OCR Text |
Show WPi By Ernest Haycox z. has decided to play a lone hand agalnst Ben Herendeen, a rancher bent on run-nlng run-nlng the cattle country his own way. The two men have been enemies for years, having first ,0UEht over Clay, wile, Llla, who died hating him and believing she should have married Herendeen. Morgan is a solitary figure, devoted to his nine-year-old daughter, Janet. Although Al-though two women, Catherine Grant and Ann McGarrah, are in love with him, they know he cannot forget Lila. of his former friends, only Hack Breathitt had not gone over to Herendeen's side. Now Hack is dead, shot by Herendeen's foreman, Charley HUlhouse. Gurd Grant, Catherine's brother, joined Herendeen Her-endeen when he discovered that Catherine Cath-erine had been to Morgan's ranch, but the cold bloodedness of Hack's murder has made him break with Herendeen. Warned by Fox Willing, a "nester" he once befriended, Clay discovers that Herendeen is stealing his cattle. He goes to Herendeen's ranch for a show, down, but Herendeen beats him to the draw. He is surrounded by Herendeen's Heren-deen's men, and there seems no way out, when Lige White, one of Herendeen's Heren-deen's friends, rides up. Like Gurd Grant, he is fed up with Herendeen's high handed methods. Risking his own life to save Clay, he persuades him to take a chance on riding out of Herendeen's Heren-deen's ranch. He doesn't think Herendeen Heren-deen will dare to shoot. Now continue with the story. S5EH1S' " - is He made out the crowd in the yard and watched the parley. They came at last to the stage road and turned into it. From the swamp meadow to this point had been more than an hour's drive and Herendeen was long overdue, leading lead-ing Morgan to believe that Herendeen Heren-deen had circled them. The trouble, trou-ble, then, would come when they reached the open country. He joined Harry Jump, both of them hazing the stragglers forward until the beef was in a compact bunch. Vermilye and Willing were fifty yards forward; for-ward; now and then a cow wandered wan-dered toward the jack-pine forest surrounding them and had to be cut back. At five o'clock they reached the bottom of the stage road, left the pines and swung north toward Government Valley, three miles distant. dis-tant. Herendeen was nowhere to be seen, whereupon Harry Jump came to his suspecting conclusions. "He didn't want to try it in timber. He's -waitin' for us to get in the middle of the flats. My idea is that he's watch-in' watch-in' us from the Potholes right now." A similar thought had occurred to Vermilye. He trotted back to Morgan. Mor-gan. "Now in case he comes a-bust-in' out of the brush, Clay, we better just let this beef go and hit for them agency buildings." "No," said Jump at once. "It's our beef, by God." . "That's right," said Morgan. Vermilye joined Harry Jump, both of them urging the cattle along at a quicker gait. Morgan closely watched the back trail, not quite able to understand Herendeen's continued con-tinued delay. The suspense worked on his nerves. Once, thinking he saw movement at the edge of the Potholes, he turned and made a stand, searching the black margin of that country quite carefully. He had been mistaken, however, and presently pres-ently turned to catch up with the beef. Near six o'clock, with the sun down beyond the Cache Mountains, they threw the beef on their own grass near the shattered dobe buildings build-ings of the old agency. Morgan said: "Hold this jag in a bunch. We're not through yet. I want Herendeen to see what we took. Fox, if I were you I think I'd pull freight. Thanks for comin' along." Willing said, idly: "Might as well stick around." Cap Vermilye, always a forehanded forehand-ed man, got a few sage stems and a piece of old board from the nearest building to make up a fire. He had a frying pan and coffeepot in his saddle roll; and some bacon and a can of beans. He boiled up the coffee, cof-fee, fried the bacon and heated the beans in the frying pan's grease. Having no other utensils, they took turns at the frying pan, using their pocket knives, and drank the coffee straight from the pot. At seven o'clock, with shadows sweeping across Mogul's plateau, a single horseman appeared on the high edge of Mogul Mountain and quartered down. This was in the west, from which Morgan expected no trouble. Harry Jump walked deliberately to his horse and pulled out his Winchester. Win-chester. Morgan said, "Hold on, Harry." Rider and horse plodded unhurriedly through the blue swirl of dusk a long stooped shape on a rawboned animal; at a distance he waved his arm overhead and a little lit-tle later Morgan recognized the nester nest-er Gale. Gale came up but did net dismount dis-mount until Morgan gave him the proper invitation. When the invitation invita-tion came he dropped to the ground with an old man's stiffness; he poised both his hands over the muzzle muz-zle of his ancient gun and looked out from beneath his twisted awning-shaped eyebrows. "There's some coffee left in the pot," said Morgan. Just whut i need," Gale answered. an-swered. He slouched over the are and tipped the pot against his mouth, drinking with an acute thirst. Coffee ran down the seams of his jaws. He said, "Ah," in great relish rel-ish and sponged the liquid from the tips of his mustache with sidewise motions of his tongue. Morgan said: "Don't mean to be unfriendly, but maybe you ought to move on." Gale didn't smile. He was past the point of finding amusement in the world, but in his eyes was a light like the last glow of coals of a dying fire. "Don't you worry about me, Mr. Morgan. If I didn't know whut I wanted to do, I wouldn't be here." Morgan shrugged his shoulders. "Your funeral." "It may be," agreed Gale composedly. com-posedly. "But if so, it will be a double dou-ble one. At my age I'm too old to worry about dyin', for it is pretty close to me at any event, and I guess I'm poor enough not to fret about losin' anything. He rummaged his pockets, producing pro-ducing pipe and tobacco. Morgan watched him fill the pipe and light it and settle on his heels. This was late September and suddenly, sud-denly, slightly beyond seven o'clock, the blue-running shadows turned to gunmetal gray and afterwards to full night. The haze of autumn lay over the land. Through this filtered a strong moonlight creating the effect ef-fect of woolly clouds banked against the earth. Morgan led his horse to the remnant wall of the nearest dobe building and walked on until he stood alone, facing the open south. Fox Willing was in the saddle, circling the held bunch of beeves. The job was done and, as far as the cattle were concerned, there wasn't any need of staying here. Yet Morgan knew that this waiting was necessary. neces-sary. Herendeen was somewhere in the yonder night. The big man had avoided a meeting in the timber, he had delayed this pursuit; but he was out there and he would come. Nothing changed much, Morgan realized. Herendeen had faced him for ten years, never giving ground, never able to forget. It was something some-thing that would not dim or die, it was a force that drove Herendeen. Thinking about that, Morgan admitted admit-ted the same force drove him. Whatever What-ever the outward reasons, whatever the open quarrels and excuses, there was a deeper reason still the native, na-tive, chemical animosities of two men born to be opposite in all things, born to collide and to destroy. de-stroy. It Was past explanation. Stationed like this, apart from the group and facing southward, he heard Herendeen at last approach, hidden by the pulsing fog. Off there a steady rhythm rose, of horses moving at a slow run and presently slowing to a walk. Shadows appeared ap-peared in the fog, and shapeless outlines. out-lines. Fox Willing came in from the herd, dismounting and putting his horse near the dobe wall. He walked over to Morgan. Vermilye and Jump had risen and had taken position not far from the wall. Gale was out of sight. Herendeen's party showed as a wide scatter of shadows on the desert. des-ert. They were halted, two hundred feet away. Herendeen said: "Morgan, I'm coming in to cut that bunch of stock and look it over for my brand." Morgan said: "None of your cows in it, Ben." "I'll see for myself." Those shadows were too vague to be counted but Morgan knew Herendeen Heren-deen had at least eight men around him; and he also knew Herendeen's intention which was to build up a fight on any grounds. He said: "Charley HUlhouse there?" "No. I'm coming in." Morgan said: "Nothing here for you, Ben. Stay back." Herendeen's voice boomed out "You know the rules of the country. It's my privilege to cut any man's range for my stock. I claim there's Three Pines cows in that bunch." "If there are," said Morgan coolly, cool-ly, "I'll send them back tomorrow." "I want 'em now." "You're in a hurry all of a sudden," sud-den," pointed out Morgan ironically. ironical-ly. "I sent word to you some time ago to clean your stuff out of this valley and you didn't seem to figure it worth your time. So you can wait another day. You won't cut this bunch tonight, or any time. Get off my grass." "You goin' against the rules?" "You been making the rules a long time, Ben. Now I'll make 'em." Herendeen said: "I've listened to you long enough. We'll settle this now." Morgan's reply was soft and flat in the night. "Let 'er flicker, Ben. When you move in we start shoot-in'." shoot-in'." He heard Herendeen say: "Cume on, boys." (TO BE COT'l F.Di CHAPTER XVI It was still close and risky, as they both knew. Morgan swapped a - short glance with the smiling White, seeing a thorough understanding in the latter's eyes. Morgan made the decision for both of them at this moment, turning his horse squarely on Herendeen. The movement pulled White around and thus the two of them, holding their horses to a walk, passed down the yard in a silence that had no bottom. The river road bent around a point. Reaching this point, ready to turn it and shut the Three Pines ranch house from sight, Morgan had his backward glance. Herendeen and his men were in the saddle, heading for the Haycreek Hills. They were going after the beef, Morgan knew. Lige White came abreast. "Clay, I'm ashamed to say it, but I've strung along with Ben, not liking what's been going on around me. I still do not like it, but I cannot tolerate tol-erate this kind of a war. Keep away from him. The man's gone crazy." "A little late now," said Morgan. "There's a fight coming. Ben's made up his mind, and so have I. Stay out of it, Lige. And see if you can get Gurd to do the same." . Lige White said with the greatest reluctance: "I have hated to see this day come." "A long time coming," said Morgan, Mor-gan, and put his horse to the slope. Lige White watched him climb, excitement mirroring brightly in his eyes; afterwards he continued along the road, bound for Gurd Grant's. Pete Borders, who tiad driven the Long Seven beef across the Hay-creek Hay-creek Hills to Herendeen's range, lay on a peak of the ridge throughout through-out the middle of the day. He saw Morgan arrive at the meadow and grinned to himself at what was no doubt in Morgan's mind. It looked like an open steal on Herendeen's part, which was the way Borders wanted it to look. Later when he saw Morgan headed head-ed for Herendeen's alone, Pete Borders Bor-ders grew serious and a little restless. rest-less. It was, he concluded, bad tactics on Morgan's part; and so, taking to his horse, he went along the Haycreek Hills until he was able to sight the Three Pines ranch from the heights. He made out the crowd in the yard and watched the parley. Later he saw a new rider come along which was Lige White and saw two of them ride away. Morgan Mor-gan had got out of it with a whole skin, which relieved Borders immeasurably. im-measurably. As soon as Morgan left Lige White, he turned his horse to the slope of the Haycreek Hills and presently, pres-ently, from a high point, he saw Herendeen leave the valley with his crew. Morgan calculated his margin of advantage to be about twenty minutes min-utes and entered the timber at a fast clip. He caught up with his outfit a mile or two beyond the swamp. The cattle cat-tle were single file, going very slowly slow-ly on the crooked trail and stretched out for three or four hundred yards. Cap Vermilye was in front of them, beyond sight. Fox Willing held the rear, with Harry Jump still farther back to cover whatever might come up Harry Jump was a little edgy with the strain of this thing; he ihowed relief at Morgan's presence. 'I been on the verge of ridin' back after you." "They're half an hour behind me. We're apt to have a scrap." "Hell with 'em," said Harry Jump at once. "Let's stop and have it put." "Keep right on going. Fox, cut ahead and ride with Cap. If you hear any ruckus back here, join us. f you meet anything in front, let out a yeU and we'll be right with you. Fox unable to crowd by the beef on so narrow a way, cut through the timber and rough slab rock with considerable difficulty. Harry Jump began to grumble at the lagging cat-le cat-le crowding them with his pony. Morgan dropped back a distance to uatch the trail. |