Twin Sombreros

by Zane Grey

  At the door they were accosted by a lithe young man in rider’s garb much the worse for wear. He had a clean-cut, youthful face, tanned by exposure, and fine eyes.

  “I’d like to shake your hand, Keene,” he said hesitatingly, but with a winning smile.

  “Shore. An’ who’re yu?” returned Brazos, slowly, as he returned the smile. He was the easiest cowboy on the ranges to approach—when he happened to meet this type.

  “Jack Sain. Hank knows me. I’ve been pretty friendly with the Neeces. Allen was my pard. It plumb busted me all up—what happened to him.”

  “Ahuh. Wal, I’m darned glad to meet yu, Jack.”

  “Brazos, it was Jack’s friendship for the Neeces thet cost him his job. He rode fer Surface. You see there ain’t any love lost between the Surfaces an’ the Neeces.”

  “Wal, Jack, I’ll be wantin’ to hobnob with yu some,” said Brazos, thoughtfully. “Where yu workin’ now?”

  “Nowhere. I can’t get a job. Surface is strong in the association an’ he’s queered me.”

  “Doggone!” mused Brazos. “Thet’s interestin’. Surface ‘pears to be playin’ a high hand around heah. . . . Jack, where can I find yu later in the afternoon?”

  “Meet me at the Twin Sombreros Restaurant, up by the railroad station. About suppertime.”

  “Thet the place run by the Neece girls? Won’t they be kinda nervous—seein’ me?”

  “Janis was with me in the sheriff’s office. She slipped out just after Hank’s speech. Before she went she said: ‘Jack, I’d never believe that cowboy murdered Allen.’ . . . Both the girls are dead game, Brazos, an’ they’ll be glad to see you.”

  “All right, Jack. I’ll be there.”

  They parted, and Bilyen led Brazos slowly up the wide street. “Fine lad thet,” Bilyen was saying. “Down on his luck now. I reckon he didn’t tell you everythin’. Lura Surface was sweet on Jack. She throws herself at every fellar who strikes her fancy. But when Jack met June Neece, he went loco. You never seen a cowboy so deep in love. An’ June leans to him a lot, though she’s not a hell of a flirt at all like Janis.”

  “My Gawd! . . . Hank, is this a story yu’re readin’ me? The next thing yu’ll tell me these sisters will be pretty an’ sweet an’—wal, Jack said they were daid game.”

  “Cowboy, wait till you see them.”

  “What am I gonna wait for? Tell me, man. An’ then if it’s bad news I can fork my hawse an’ ride.”

  “It’s good news, Brazos,” replied Bilyen, soberly, taking him seriously. “June an’ Jan Neece are the wonderfullest girls this range ever saw. Pretty! Hell, thet ain’t no word! What’s more they’re sweet an’ true—an’ game? Say! . . . Old Abe developed thet ranch for them—sent them east to school to be educated—to do him proud. Ten years ago! They came back with trunks of stylish clothes an’ crazy to make joy at Twin Sombreros. Only they never got there! Folks love these girls because they’re unspoiled. An’ when their fortunes fell, they went plumb to work.”

  “Hank, I reckon I better climb Bay an’ race for Montana,” declared Brazos, ruefully.

  “Why, you darn fool?”

  “Cause I have a turrible weakness.”

  “Haw! Haw! You haven’t outgrowed thet. Wal, Brazos, I reckon it’s on the cairds fer you to stay here.”

  “On the cairds? Hell, yes! They always run thet way for me. Same old—deal! If I’ve got any sense atall, I’ll rustle.”

  “Since when did Brazos Keene grow selfish?” queried Bilyen, with subtle scorn.

  “Selfish? Me! What’s eatin’ you, Hank Bilyen?”

  “Think of thet pore murdered boy—an’ his brokenhearted dad—an’ them fine girls workin’ from daylight to midnight.”

  “Thet’s what I am thinkin’ aboot!” protested Brazos.

  Bilyen halted in front of a bank and spoke low in Brazos’ ear. “They’ve lost their brother. An’ the beautiful home thet was built fer them. Their father is dyin’ of grief. . . . They’ve been cheated, robbed ruined. . . . An’ last, Brazos, young Allen Neece was givin’ his time to ferretin’ out the secret of thet ruin. An’ thet’s why he was murdered!”

  Brazos leaned back against the rough stone wall of the bank and drew a deep breath, that whistled at the intake. His narrowed gaze fastened down the wide street, with its wagons and horses and busy sidewalks, out to the gray rangeland and the purple mountains. There was no use for him to rail at destiny or to try to run away from the inevitable. He pressed a steel-like hand against his breast where his precious letter lay in his pocket. He remembered.

  “Shore, Hank, I savvy yu,” he answered, with the old cool drawl. “Let’s go in an’ rob the bank. Then yu can take me oot to meet Abe Neece. An’ after thet, I’ll see the twins. . . . Doggone! Only yesterday or thereaboots, I was a friendless, grub-line ridin’ cowboy. Funny aboot life! But it’s worth livin’.”

  A few minutes later, Brazos stood outside the bank again, feeling a compact bulge in his pocket not altogether made by his precious letter.

  “Hank, I only wanted a little money,” expostulated Brazos. “How’n hell will I ever pay it back?”

  “Holy mackerel, Brazos, ask me an easy one. But I know you will,” rejoined Bilyen, with a laugh. “I can spare thet. Before I went to work fer Neece, I sold my herd to him, an’ I’ve saved my money an’ wages. Lucky I did. I’m takin’ care of the old man now an’ I lent the twins enough to start their restaurant.”

  “Wal, yu always was a good friend, Hank. Yu deserve to be a big rancher. . . . Say, who’s this gazabo comin’?”

  “Thet’s Sam Mannin’. Still has his store down the street. Sure, you remember Sam.”

  “No, I shore wouldn’t have known him,” said Brazos, “Gosh, what a few years can do!”

  A spare gray Westerner of venerable and kindly aspect came up to them, his lined face breaking into a smile.

  “Hello, Brazos,” he said, heartily, extending his hand. “I heard you were in town, but I didn’t see any smoke. Glad to see you again. An’ just about the same!”

  “Howdy, Sam. It’s just fine to shake yore hand. I’m gonna run in pronto an’ buy oot yore store. Have you any of those red silk scarfs Louise used to sell me?”

  “Plenty, cowboy. My store an’ business have grown with the years.”

  “Thet’s fine. An’ how’s Louise?”

  “Married long ago, Brazos. She has two children.”

  “I’ll be doggoned! You tell Louise Mannin’ I swore she’d wait for me.”

  “I will. An’ if I remember Louise in your day, she’ll be fussed. Be sure to drop over. . . . How are you, Hank?”

  “Wal, Sam, I was feelin’ low till Brazos rode to town. Things will pick up now.”

  “I shouldn’t wonder,” responded Manning, wagging his gray head, and he passed on into the bank.

  “Hank, let’s duck down an alley, or somethin’. If I meet any more old friends I’ll bust.”

  “Stand your ground, cowboy. I got to buy some grub. . . . Haw! Haw! Look who’s spotted you. Has she got eyes? Aw no——”

  “Save me, Hank. Who’n hell? I’ll bet it’s thet Surface girl.”

  “Right, Brazos. Ill duck in the store. Hope some of you’ll be left when I come out.”

  Brazos had attention only for the stunningly handsome and strikingly attired young woman who bore down upon him, face flushed and eyes alight. She was taller than she had appeared astride a horse, beautifully proportioned, and several years beyond her teens.

  “I congratulate you, Mr. Brazos Keene,” she said, graciously offering her hand. “I’m very glad indeed. It was a stupid blunder.”

  “Wal, thet’s shore nice of yu, Miss Surface,” replied Brazos, as he bowed bareheaded to take her hand. “Considerin’ how keen yore father was to see me hanged, I’m more’n grateful to see yu wasn’t.”

  “Oh, Dad is impossible,” she declared, impatiently. “He seems to suspect every cowboy who rides in from the West. If one happens to come along f
rom Kansas, he’ll hire him.”

  “Shore does seem unreasonable an’ hard on us Western riders,” drawled Brazos, his gaze strong on her. “I was aboot to shake the dust of Las Animas. But now, I just reckon I’ll hang around. Do you think I might get to see yu again?”

  “You might,” she replied, blushing very becomingly. “I’d like nothing better.”

  “But Mr. Surface wouldn’t like it.”

  “I’m over twenty-one.”

  “Wal, you shore don’t look it. . . . I wonder where I was all the time yu’ve been growin’ up into such a lovely girl.”

  ‘‘I’ve wasted a good deal of it on cowboys less appreciative than you,” she replied, accepting his nonchalant challenge with a dark flash in her green-blue eyes.

  “Most cowboys air dumb. . . . When an’ how can I see yu, Lura?”

  “When do you want to—Brazos?” she returned, brightly, the red spots playing prettily in her cheeks.

  “Wal, I want to right now. But I’ve got to go with Hank. Would tomorrow be too soon? I reckon I can wait thet long.”

  “I imagine you will find that long time very trying,” she said, quizzically, watching him with amused wonder. Yet she had the soft light in her eyes that usually shone in women’s eyes for Brazos.

  “I’ll just aboot die. . . . I’m afraid it happened to me oot at yore ranch the other day—when yu told yore father thet I never murdered Allen Neece.”

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know what yet. But I felt powerful strange around heah,” replied Brazos, putting his hand to his heart.

  “You are sudden. . . . Brazos Keene, I believe all I’ve heard about you today, except that you were crooked.”

  “Wal, in thet case, I’ll forgive yu.”

  “I’ll bet it’s true you’ve been a perfect devil with women.”

  “If havin’ my heart broke a lot of times proves thet—wal, I’m guilty.”

  “There’s Dad down the street,” she returned, coolly. “Meet me tomorrow afternoon about three in the grove on the east bank of the brook that runs into the Purgatory about a mile out of town. Can you remember all that?”

  “I’ll be there,” promised Brazos.

  She rewarded him with a dazzling smile and swept on down the street.

  “Brimstone an’ chain lightnin’,” soliloquized Brazos, watching the superb form depart. “Turrible took with herself. Crazy aboot men. An’ I cain’t savvy what else. But doggone it! I like her.”

  Bilyen emerged from the store burdened with bags, of which he gave Brazos a generous share.

  “You look kinda sheepish,” he observed. “I’d be some worried if I didn’t know you was goin’ to meet June Neece today.”

  “Yeah. An’ why June if she’s got a twin sister you cain’t tell from her?”

  “Oh, you can—if they help you. . . . I said June because she’s warm. Janis got the nickname Jan, meanin’ January. An’ you ought to remember this range in winter.”

  “Jan cause she’s cold an’ June cause she’s hot! Say, Hank, this plot is thickenin’ too darn deep. Suppose they wouldn’t tip a fellar off which one he happened to be makin’—to be talkin’ to?”

  “In thet case he’d be in deep, believe me.”

  They walked to a stable and corral on the outskirts of town, where Hank sent a boy after Brazos’ horse and saddle. In due time, the two were riding out over country that brought thrilling memories to Brazos. And what interesting historical facts Brazos did not remember or never knew, Hank glibly supplied.

  “Brazos, you should remember Fort Lyon. You once had a fight there, I reckon about seven years ago. Wal, there’s the old fort. It was abandoned by the army two years ago. Kit Carson stayed there a good deal in the sixties, as also did Buffalo Bill, supplyin’ buffalo meat to the fort. West of town about ten miles is the ruins of Fort William Bent, built by the Bent brothers in 1874, the same year I come to Las Animas. Them was the good old wild days, Brazos. When there was roundups of great cattle herds from the Panhandle, an’ huge shipments of buffalo meat an’ hides to the east. Wagon trains, prairie schooners, stage coaches. All gone—them days of romance!”

  “Yeah? Wal, it strikes me all the romance an’ all the wild days ain’t gone. Look what’s happened to me in two days!”

  Bilyen had a little ten-acre ranch on the Purgatory. A gray shack faced the rocky, swift-running stream, and the splendid vista of plains to the south and the noble slopes of foothills rising to the Rockies on the west.

  “I can set on my doorstep an’ ketch trout,” boasted Hank. “An’ look at thet!”

  “Wal, I reckon I’ll buy this place from yu an’ settle down,” drawled Brazos, dreamily.

  He was leaning over the rocky bank, still dreaming, when Hank came out of the shack accompanied by a man whose lean gray visage denoted the havoc of trouble if not of years. Brazos leaped erect, galvanized with an instinct in this meeting. It was to meet the penetrating gaze of tawny shadowed eyes.

  “Howdy, Brazos Keene,” was the man’s greeting. “Hank has told me about you. I’m glad you were cleared of that trumped-up charge.”

  “Shore happy to meet you, Mr. Neece,” responded Brazos, warmly.

  “Cowboy, you’ve got the cut of my son Allen. . . . Only you’re older—an’ there’s something proved about you. Allen was young, reckless, inexperienced.”

  “Let’s set down on the bank heah. Nice view. I’m gonna buy this place from Hank.”

  “Have you met my twin girls?”

  “Not yet. I’ve heahed all aboot them, though. An’ I gotta hand it to them, Mr. Neece. I shore look forward to meetin’ them.”

  Neece sighed and gazed out across the greening brakes and swales to the open range. He was not old, nor feeble, but it appeared plain that the shock of disaster had broken him.

  “Brazos, is what Bilyen tells me true?” he queried presently, with an effort.

  “Gosh, I’d trust Hank every way ‘cept talkin’ aboot me.”

  At this juncture Brazos fell from humor to earnestness, changed by the dark meaning fire in Hank’s eye.

  “Hank says you’re goin’ to stay here an’ look into the deal we Neeces have had.”

  “I shore am. It looks queer to me,” declared Brazos, realizing that he was not averse to being drawn into the Neece mystery.

  “That’s good of you, cowboy. But why do you interest yourself in our troubles? You never knew Allen. You have not met my girls. Surface, who ruined us, is at the head of the strong combine of cattlemen in east Colorado. You’re takin’ a large order on yourself.”

  “Wal, thet’s easy to answer,” declared Brazos, coolly. “Bodkin arrested me because he needed to hang the crime on somebody. He thought I was a stranger—a cowboy down on his luck. Surface wanted me hanged. For reasons I’m gonna find oot. If thet wasn’t enough to rile Brazos Keene—wal, this rotten deal handed to yu an’ yore three kids shore would be. Thet’s all, Neece. I don’t want to brag, but the ootfit chalked up some bad marks for themselves.”

  “You insinuate Surface is in some way connected with Bodkin?”

  “Insinuate nothin’. I’m tellin’ you, Mr. Neece. But did yu need to be told thet Surface doesn’t ring true—thet Bodkin was a fourflush shady deputy sheriff? Wal, Kiskadden knew it an’ he was damn glad thet I rode along to blow this ootfit up. Kiskadden resigned pronto.”

  “He did? Well!” ejaculated Neece, beginning to grow intense.

  “I don’t just savvy Kiskadden. Shore he’s a Texan an’ would have backed me to the throwin’ of guns. I seen them in his desk. All easy to snatch! . . . But he’s got somethin’ up his sleeve beside the deal given me. Shore I reckon my surrenderin’ to him—”

  “Surrenderin’? I thought you were arrested an’ jailed.”

  “Not exactly,” drawled Brazos. “Bodkin an’ his posse arrested me, shore. But when we rode into Las Animas an’ up to the sheriff’s office, I had thet posse in front of me, sittin’ their saddles stiff.”
/>   “How, for heaven’s sake?”

  Brazos gave a brief account of the fray and how Inskip had helped him come out on top.

  “Inskip? So he was in the posse. Brazos Keene, I note the real Westerners take to you.”

  “Wal, Kiskadden shore has somethin’ up his sleeve beside takin’ to me. . . . Neece, I have a letter thet cleared me of implication in the—the murder of yore son. It’s from New Mexico. Now I read it to Kiskadden. An’ I’m gonna read a little of it to yu an’ Hank heah. When I ran into Surface, I hadn’t even read that part of it, an’ it came as a surprise to me. Yu air to keep mum aboot it, see?”

  Brazos took out Holly’s letter, carefully opened and smoothed and sorted the pages until he came to Renn Frayne’s postscript. The passage that related to Surface he slowly and gravely read.

  Neece showed that he still had flint in him to strike fire from. Manifestly deeply stirred, he controlled himself admirably and very probably found his real self for the first time since disaster and grief had overcome him.

  “No coincidence! That was my herd. It was last seen on the Canadian.”

  “Wal, I had thet hunch myself. What yu think, Hank?”

  “Brazos Keene! So you dropped out of the sky with thet letter? Same old Brazos! . . . By Gawd, I’m riled. I can see light an’ it’s red. Haw! Haw! There’s some of us left. . . . Surface, the—”

  “Cheese it, Hank,” interposed Brazos. “You’re turrible profane. An’ after all it may be a pore steer. Only it cain’t be! But we gotta be shore. My idee is thet Frayne has tipped me a hunch damn important to eastern Colorado. . . . Neece, I’ve heahed yore story from Hank. Just now, I only want to put one question. How an’ when did yu lose thet money of Surface’s yu got in Dodge?”

  “Simple as a, b, c. I wanted cash. Got it, an’ took it on the train in a satchel. The train was late. It didn’t get into Las Animas till after midnight. Jerry, my stableboy, met me with the buckboard. We drove out toward the ranch. At the turn of the road, where the brook crosses an’ the cottonwoods grow thick, I was held up by three men an’ robbed.”