Vigilante Dawn

by Ralph Compton

  “Clay might be the only one left.”

  “Well, then . . . all the better.”

  Although Jarrett and Lem seemed ready to be done with the lawmen, Ackerman wasn’t ready to give up just yet. “But we almost got him!” the deputy said. “We can’t just give up before finishing what we started.”

  Rubin was already pulling on his gloves and approaching his horse. “It seems you forgot what our duty is here. A posse is formed to deal with a threat posed by a dangerous man or men who have attempted to escape. As lawmen, we need to see to it that the threat is answered. Most of those rustlers are dead and the rest are right here with us,” the sheriff said while sweeping a hand to the outlaws that had been captured. The rustlers formed a short train, linked at the wrists by a length of rope. “The threat is contained,” Rubin concluded. “Just because one of the weasels managed to wriggle away doesn’t mean we failed. I’m sure another lawman farther north will get the chance to hang him. For us, it’s time to finish up and go home.”

  Ackerman might not have been a deputy for very long, but he knew when the sheriff had made up his mind. He walked back over to where Lem and Jarrett were standing. Sighing, he said, “Looks like that’s that.”

  “Sure does,” Jarrett said.

  “The sheriff’s right, though. Clay’s the only one left as far as we know and he doesn’t even realize all of his men have been either killed or rounded up.”

  Lem nodded. “Yep.”

  Most of the lawmen were preparing to commence the ride back to Flat Pass. Tom and another man tending to the animals started to get some of the cattle moving, which would eventually set the entire herd into motion.

  “You should probably get back with them,” Jarrett said. “Don’t want to be left behind.”

  “What about you?” Ackerman asked. “Don’t you want to get a look at your herd? Count up how many head may be missing? Make certain they all get safely back to where they need to go?”

  “No.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Do you really need to ask?”

  “The sheriff’s right, you know,” Ackerman said. “Going after Clay will take you outside the jurisdiction of this posse.”

  “Does your sheriff honestly consider us to be members of this posse anymore?” Lem asked.

  “At least come with us back to Flat Pass,” Ackerman said to Jarrett. “More than likely, Sheriff Rubin will change his mind about going after Clay. We’ve got the whole ride back to make sure he does.”

  Jarrett shook his head. “I don’t think he will and neither do you. Rubin is more than happy to drag in the men he’s already got and call it a day. He’ll look like the big lawman when he returns to his office, where he can prop his feet up and read his newspapers again.”

  “If you ride north from here to go after Clay,” Ackerman warned, “you won’t have the law on your side.”

  “If the law doesn’t back a man who rids the world of scum like Clay,” Jarrett said, “then I don’t want any part of it.”

  “What about your land? Your home?”

  “You must not have been paying attention, kid. My home is a pile of burned rubble and my land is a graveyard.”

  “You can start over. Plenty of men do, you know.”

  “I’ll think about that sort of thing when I come back from Canada,” Jarrett said.

  “You mean if you come back.”

  Jarrett let that sink in for just over a second before saying, “Yeah.”

  Realizing that he wasn’t making a dent in the rancher’s resolve, Ackerman said to him, “I learned a lot riding with you. Both of you.”

  “That’s strange,” Jarrett said with a slight laugh. “Didn’t think I was teaching anything.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Looking between Jarrett and Lem, the deputy said, “I’ll do what I can to explain what you two are doing to the sheriff.”

  “Probably best if you don’t explain anything,” Lem said. “Just tell him you don’t know where we went or why.”

  “I suppose that’s mostly the truth. There’s a lot of ground between here and the border. If the sheriff presses the matter, I won’t lie to his face,” Ackerman warned. “A head start is all I can guarantee.”

  “That’s all we need,” Jarrett said. “Much obliged.”

  “Don’t thank me. Feels like I’m not doing you any favors.”

  Jarrett made it easier for the younger man by nodding once, turning the other direction, and walking away. Not long after that, the deputy climbed onto his horse and rode off to join the others.

  “You think we should worry about that one?” Lem asked.

  “Nah. He means well and he’s got a lousy face for lying. He’ll do what he told us he would. Even if he doesn’t do a very good job of sidestepping any questions that come his way, he should be able to stall for a spell.”

  Lem was watching the deputy ride away. His eyes also wandered back and forth to take in the sight of the rest of the posse splitting the herd and driving most of it back along the same tracks they’d put down when leaving Flat Pass. “I imagine them lawmen will be bragging about whatever bit of nothing they did to round up the dregs we left behind. If the kid said those men put up hardly any fight, they must have been a bunch of cross-eyed pups that couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn.”

  “Probably. Let’s get going before anyone notices we’re not joining them.”

  As they skirted along the outer edge of the herd, they were spotted by a couple of posse members. The men weren’t proper deputies, but volunteers who were more comfortable wrangling beef than firing a gun. They waved at Jarrett and he waved back. Tom spotted them as well and didn’t even do that much.

  “The kid had his heart in the right place,” Lem said through a smile that was about as genuine as a wooden nickel, “but I’m not gonna miss the rest of these idiots. At least I don’t have to look at them again.”

  Twitch was especially nervous around the cattle, even though they were the same animals he’d lived with on the Lazy J for years. Jarrett calmed the horse without even thinking about it. His hands pulled the reins just right and he nudged the gelding with his knees to keep Twitch moving along in a mostly straight line. “I know what you mean,” he said.

  “Yeah, but you’ll have to deal with them again.”

  Jarrett had nothing to say to that.

  “You didn’t really mean what you said about not going back home, did you?” Lem asked.

  “Why wouldn’t I mean it?”

  “Because we’re headed after Clay. He should be with your brother’s wife and at least one of those children.”

  Jarrett winced as if he’d been shot in the chest. “Maybe he’s got fewer along with him than that.”

  “Even if he’s only got one of your family along for the ride, that’s more than you’ve got right now.”

  “Yeah,” Jarrett said in a voice bereft of even the slightest trace of humanity. “That’s right.”

  Lem leaned over to give him a shove. It wasn’t enough to push Jarrett off Twitch’s back, but it did a good job of rattling the other man. Having regained his balance in the saddle, Jarrett asked, “What’re you trying to do? Break my damn neck?”

  “I’m trying to see if you’re still in there,” Lem replied while tapping a finger against Jarrett’s head. “You can’t be drifting like this when we find Clay, because he’ll have no qualms about killing a man who isn’t up to snuff.”

  “I’ll be fine when that time comes.”

  “And what about after?”

  “I don’t know,” Jarrett said. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

  Lem shook his head and let out a tired sigh. “Great. That’s just great.”

  “What’s your problem?”

  “My problem is that I gave up riding with one bunch of shortsighted fools just
to ride with another one.”

  “And what’s that supposed to mean?” Jarrett asked.

  Without looking over to him, Lem said, “It means you could have saved everyone some time if you had just put a bullet through your own skull and been done with it.”

  “Trust me, I thought about it.”

  “But you didn’t do it. Instead you decided to ride out and shove all your pain down the throats of those who deserve it! And when you heard about your kin still being alive, you jumped at the chance to get them back. What happened between now and then to make you into such a sorrowful lump?”

  “I just get the feeling that there’s more misery waiting for me if I find Clay,” Jarrett said. “More for you, to be certain. There’s been enough misery already.”

  “So you intend to let your family fend for themselves? I don’t believe that.”

  Jarrett shook his head. “I’m still going after Clay. I just . . . don’t know what I’ll find.”

  “You’re not a fortune-teller. Neither am I. Hell, neither are the folks who tell you they’re fortune-tellers!”

  “I don’t know what you want from me.”

  “What I want is to hear that there’s a good reason for what we’re doing. You’ve got to have a plan. Otherwise we’re just riding out to kill a man. That don’t make us any better than another outlaw or some piece-of-trash bounty hunter. If that’s all this is about, then I’d rather ride in another direction to take my chances with a new life and a new name in some other part of the world.”

  They rode for a while longer. Neither man felt like saying much of anything. They left the herd behind and then turned toward the north before picking up their pace. On more than one occasion, they discussed the route Clay would take to get to Canada. Between Lem’s familiarity with how Clay would travel with at least one prisoner in tow and Jarrett’s knowledge of the terrain itself, they narrowed their options down considerably. For the rest of the day, however, there was only one option.

  The trail they used wouldn’t meet up with any others that would lead to Canada for quite a while. There were ample watering holes and even a few small trading posts along the way where they stopped for food or merely to stretch their legs. If they made it into Montana before dark, they stood a chance of catching up to Clay in a few days. Of course, there was always the possibility that Clay had taken a different route or was on a schedule that meant he’d already met the Canadian slaver and was on his way back with a pocketful of cash. Jarrett couldn’t let himself think about that.

  He did allow his mind to wander in other directions, though. Mostly he thought about what Lem had said to him when they were back at the herd. He’d been right about one thing. Whether it was because of the dark turn his life had taken or all the blood that had been spilled in such a short amount of time, Jarrett had allowed himself to be drawn down into darkness. Quite simply, that could not be allowed. If the darkness sank its claws in too deep, Jarrett would lose sight of why he’d started fighting so hard in the first place.

  After crossing the Montana border, they rode for several more miles and made camp in a clearing. A fire crackled beneath a pot of beans while Twitch shifted from one hoof to another a few yards away. Using a branch to stoke the flames a bit, Jarrett said, “Peach cobbler.”

  “What was that?” Lem asked.

  “You asked about my plans before.”

  “And you plan . . . peach cobbler?”

  Jarrett nodded and smiled. “My brother’s wife makes some peach cobbler that’s one of the best things I’ve ever tasted. It’s a Pekoe family recipe, but she does it better than anyone else. When this is through, I figure I’ll have a plate of Jen’s peach cobbler.”

  Now Lem smiled too. “That sounds damn good.”

  Chapter 33

  They kept riding north and when they came to the spot where they had to make a decision as to which trail to follow from there, fortune smiled upon them.

  Lem rode back along the trail he’d followed wearing a big smile on his face. “River’s washed out an entire stretch of road just over a mile up ahead,” he said while pointing in the direction from which he’d come. “Ain’t nobody getting through that way unless they’re fish, and by the looks of it, that’s how it’s been for a good long while.”

  “That’s usually bad news,” Jarrett mused.

  “Not this time. That just leaves one of the trails we meant to try.”

  Both men looked at the trail stretched out in front of Jarrett. “That is,” Jarrett said, “if either of them is the right one.”

  “Only one way to find out, and it ain’t by talking.” With that, Lem snapped his reins and galloped northward.

  Jarrett didn’t let him get more than a few paces ahead before racing to catch up.

  Once they were committed to their decision, the only thing to do was ride that trail all the way to the Canadian border and hope they would find something promising before getting to Alaska. It was just past eight o’clock in the evening on the second day of riding when Lem motioned for them to stop.

  “It’s too early to make camp,” Jarrett insisted.

  “Quiet!” Lem hissed. Keeping his eyes fixed on a point in the distance, he reached back with one hand and whispered, “Give me them field glasses.”

  Jarrett dug in his saddlebag, found the glasses, and handed them over. Leaning forward as if that would help him see any more without the use of any equipment, he asked, “What is it?”

  “Don’t know yet,” Lem replied as he stared through the glasses. “Could be nothing.”

  “Or it could be something.”

  “Stands to reason.” Lem climbed down from his saddle, tied off his horse, and hurried through some brush alongside the trail. Not far behind him, Jarrett mimicked the other man’s movements by moving swiftly while keeping his head down.

  “Where are you going?” Jarrett asked.

  “I’ve got to get to a better spot so I can get a clearer line of sight.”

  “To what?”

  Jarrett guessed they were headed for higher ground. Instead Lem picked a spot in a clearing and shifted his gaze skyward. Looking up there as well, Jarrett didn’t see much of anything apart from a few lazily drifting birds and a few clouds.

  Undoubtedly sensing he was drawing close to being pestered with more questions, Lem nodded at the clouds and asked, “See that?”

  Jarrett squinted and looked again. The only other thing he saw this time was that some of the clouds formed a straighter line than others. Blinking away a few bits of dust that had gotten into his eyes, he said, “Is that smoke?”

  “Sure is.”

  “Probably from a cooking fire.”

  “That’s what I was thinking,” Lem said.

  “Could it be Clay?”

  Lem gnawed on one cheek as he watched the smoke trail closely. “Maybe.”

  Jarrett jumped to his feet. “Let’s get down there to see. If it’s not him, perhaps whoever it is has seen him.”

  “And if it is Clay, he might get spooked if we come barging in on him. Spooking a man with prisoners is a good way to get them prisoners hurt.”

  Reminding himself that Lem must have had plenty of experience in dealing with prisoners, Jarrett said, “All right, but we’ll have to get closer if we want to find out who made that fire. We can’t exactly see much from here.”

  Pointing the field glasses at the smoke trail, Lem followed it up and down as he said, “We can see enough.”

  Jarrett gave him some time to see whatever he thought he could see. After a minute or so that felt a whole lot longer than that, he said, “You can sit here. I’m going for a closer look.”

  “Does that smoke look broken to you?”

  Freezing where he was, Jarrett felt like a confused mutt as he angled his head to get another look at the sky. “What do you mean?”

&
nbsp; “The smoke trail. Does it look broken?”

  Now that he had something on which to focus, Jarrett hunkered back down in his spot and stared upward. “It does. Toward the top, right where it all starts to dissipate.”

  “That’s what I thought as well,” Lem said.

  “Does that mean something or are you passing the time by asking strange questions?”

  “Clay always liked to learn whatever he could about Indians. He used to say that any group of men who gave the soldiers and law alike such big headaches must have a whole lot to offer to outlaws. In some respects, he was right. Foraging for food, hunting, even some raiding practices he liked to use came from what he gathered from the Indians. Another trick he liked to use was smoke signals.”

  Jarrett looked at the smoke trail and scowled. “I don’t think that looks like any sort of signal.”

  “I said Clay liked to think he’d learned from the Indians,” Lem said. “That doesn’t mean he was a good student. As far as the signals go, he would use them when he was waiting for someone to let them know where to find him. It wasn’t anything too complicated. Just an occasional break in the smoke.” Smirking, Lem added, “Kind of like that one right there.”

  At first, Jarrett couldn’t see what Lem was talking about. As he followed the smoke trail toward its base, he saw a sliver of skylight cut between it and the tree line. That sliver slowly grew as the smoke continued to rise. It took a couple of minutes, but it soon became clear that the column had been cut off at its source. Then the smoke appeared again in a wider shape that would have come if more smoke had been trapped and then released. Jarrett looked up higher and saw a similar swelling in the smoke trail. The break wasn’t nearly as easy to see, but it had been there some time ago.

  “That’s Clay all right,” Lem said.

  “Or,” Jarrett added, “an Indian with very little to say.”

  Chapter 34

  The campsite was situated on the edge of a small clearing partly surrounded by trees and bushes. A few boulders were scattered in the area, but only enough to create a quarter circle away from the flickering flames. A blanket lay near the fire, which was probably used to make the crude signal. Sitting with her back against one of the trees was a slender female figure. Jarrett couldn’t see much more than that since her head was covered by a dirty sack and her arms were tied behind her.