Bitterroot Valley
Page 11
“You got your boys.”
“Like I said,” the older man said, “I ain’t got all that much to lose.”
Clint had breakfast with Evie. After that she went to the newspaper and he went to the sheriff’s office.
“Glad to see you,” Piven said.
“Why?”
“I just got word that Stringer Jack—real name Jack Stringer—and his men are out at Bates Point.”
“And?”
“And Stewart and his men are headed out there,” Piven explained.
“And what are we going to do?” Clint asked.
“We’re gonna try to get out there first and take Stringer Jack into custody.”
“And if we don’t get there first?”
“Then I guess we’ll have a big mess to clean up,” Piven said. “You game?”
“Sure,” Clint said, “I’m game. Why not?”
“Then let’s go,” Piven said, “but one thing.”
“What?”
“Even though you can,” the lawman said, “don’t outrun me there.”
FORTY-FOUR
Stringer Jack squatted in front of the fire. He was seething. Most of his men were gone. All he had left were Frank Hanson, Silas Nickerson, Paddy Rose, California Ed, along with Old Man James and his two boys.
Nickerson came riding into camp like his ass was on fire.
“Boss!”
“What?” Jack asked, knowing it was more bad news.
“A bunch of men are on the way here, ’bout five minutes out.”
“Stewart?”
“Looks like him and his men.”
Stringer Jack stood up, looked around.
“Get everybody together.”
“Right.”
Jack waited until all the man were gathered around him.
“Who’s missin’?”
The men looked at each other.
“We’re all here,” Nickerson said.
“Then how did they find out we were there?” Jack asked.
“Maybe that ain’t the important thing, Jack,” Old Man James said.
“Then what is?”
“Gettin’ out of here?” Old Man James said. “You and your men go.”
“What about you and your boys?”
“We’ll try and hold ’em here as long as we can.”
“Why?”
“We live here,” James said. “We’ll tell them we ain’t part of your gang.”
“You think they’ll believe that?”
“I hope so,” James said, “but I ain’t leavin’ Bates Point. I like it here.”
“Okay, then,” Jack said. “Everybody get mounted.”
“We runnin’, Jack?” Frank Hanson asked.
“We’re outnumbered, Frank,” Jack said. “You wanna stay and fight?”
“What happened?” Paddy Rose asked. “We wuz supposed to hit it big hereabouts. What happened to that?”
“It went wrong, kid,” Jack said. “We gotta get away and regroup. Now everybody . . . mount up!”
Stewart called his men to a halt.
“Doubt, take half the men and cross the Musselshell. If they run, you’ll be able to cut them off.”
“Right.”
Doubt handpicked the men he wanted with him and rode off. Granville Stewart took the remaining men and headed for Bates Point.
“How did you find out they’re at Bates Point?” Clint asked.
“Got word from a fella named Charlie Batch. Said he was waterin’ his mule in the Musselshell and saw some men and some cattle at Bates Point.”
“And they didn’t see him?”
“I guess not.”
“And who else did he tell?” Clint asked.
“Well, I’m guessin’ he sold the information to Stewart before he gave it to me for free.”
“Great,” Clint said. “So how do you want to play this?”
“How do you mean?”
“I mean, are we going to fire on the vigilantes?”
“I do that, I’m done in Judith Basin, and in these parts,” Piven said. “But we may have to.”
“I can do it,” Clint said. “I’ve got nothing to lose around here.”
“I guess we’ll just have to handle that when the time comes,” Piven said.
FORTY-FIVE
Granville Stewart and his men rode into Bates Point with their guns out. Old Man James and his sons were immediately covered.
“Drop ’em!” Stewart shouted.
“Let ’em drop, boys,” Old Man James said. “These here are Stewart’s Stranglers. We don’t wanna give them a reason to string us up.”
His sons both dropped their rifles to the ground.
“What do you want here, Stewart?”
“You know what I want, James,” Stewart said. “Stringer Jack and his men were holed up here. Where are they now?”
“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”
“We can see all these tracks, old man.”
“Then track ’em.”
Stewart pointed to one of James’s sons.
“String him up,” he ordered.
Two men dismounted, ran to the young man, and grabbed his arms. One of them had a rope and they started dragging him to a tree.
“Pa! Pa!”
The older man tried to hold off, but in the end he said, “Okay. Okay.”
The two men stopped and looked at their boss. Stewart held his hand up.
“They only left about ten minutes ago,” he said. “They’re crossin’ the river.”
Stewart knew they were running right into Jim Doubt and the other men, but he needed to get there so that his men would outnumber the rustlers.
“Three of you stay here,” Stewart said, “and string up the two boys.”
“Hey! I told you what you wanna know!” the old man said.
“I’ve got to make an example, James,” Stewart said.
“You sonofa—” The old man started to go for his fallen rifle, but Stewart yelled, “Don’t!”
“Why not?” Old Man James said. “You’re gonna hang me anyway.”
The old man started to go for the rifle. Granville Stewart drew his gun.
“Hold it, both of you!”
All eyes went to the speaker, Clint Adams.
“This is none of your business, Adams. Yours neither, Sheriff.”
“You can’t let him hang my boys, Sheriff,” James shouted. “They ain’t done nothin’.”
“That’s probably not true, Mr. James, but you’re right. I can’t let them be hung.” He turned to Stewart. “Call your men off, Granville.”
Stewart didn’t speak.
“Boss,” one of the men asked.
“You can’t do anything, Sheriff,” Stewart said. “The town supports the vigilantes. You’ll be out of a job if you harm one of us.”
“I won’t,” Clint said. “I don’t have a job to worry about. I’ll kill the first man who tries to harm one of these men.”
Stewart gave Clint a hard look. He pointed at the three men.
“Even if they’re not rustlers, at the very least they gave shelter to the rustlers.”
“Last I heard,” Clint said, “that’s not a hangin’ offense.”
Stewart held Clint’s eyes as long as he could, then said to his men, “Let him go.”
Clint looked around, didn’t see Jim Doubt, and realized that not all of Stewart’s men were there.
“Where are the rest of your men?” he demanded.
At that moment they heard shots in the distance.
“That’d be the rest of my men taking care of the rest of the rustlers.”
Clint looked at Piven. There was nothing they could do. They’d never get there in time, and if they did, they’d be hopelessly outnumbered.
“Now, Sheriff,” Stewart said, “if you’ll allow us to do our job.”
Stewart waved at his men and rode off in the direction of the river. His men followed, the two on foot rushing to their horses.
“Damn it,
” Piven said.
“Stewart’s Stranglers,” Clint said. “The ones they don’t shoot, they’ll hang.”
“And the ones that get away, they continue to hunt.”
“You can’t do anything, Nat,” Clint said. “You can’t fight vigilantism alone, and I can’t stay any longer to help you.”
“I know that,” Piven said. “Maybe I’ll just keep giving the newspaper something to write about.”
“That’d be the way to do it, I guess.”
“You boys get inside,” Old Man James said. Then he and the boys started to pick up their guns.
“Uh-uh, old man,” Piven said, producing his gun. “I’ve got to have somethin’ to show for my efforts. All three of you mount up. You’re under arrest.”
Clint holstered his gun. Piven had this part under control. Granville Stewart would end up getting his way, like most men as rich as he was did. Clint could have left the area immediately. There was nothing in his hotel room he couldn’t do without. But in the end he decided to ride back with Piven, to make sure he got the three outlaws—and himself—there safely.
“You comin’ back with me?” Piven asked.
“Yeah,” Clint said. “Get ’em mounted. I’ll help you get them back. Might as well say good-bye to Evie before I leave.”
“I’m afraid the way this is turnin’ out wasn’t really worth you comin here,” Piven said. “Sorry, Clint. But I sure am glad you came.”
“We did what we could, Nat,” Clint told him. “That’s all anybody can ever do.”
“Yeah,” Piven said, “I’ll tell that to Evie and let her put it in her newspaper.”
Watch for
HUNT FOR THE WHITE WOLF
356th novel in the exciting GUNSMITH series
from Jove
Coming in August!