the Sky-Liners (1967)

by L'amour, Louis - Sackett's 13

  Chapter 3

  We hit trail before sunup, keeping off the skyline as much as possible, but always moving westward, riding sidewise in the saddle so as we could look all around, Galloway facing one way, me the other.

  There was a look to the sky that spelled a weather change, but we didn't pay it no mind, figuring only to get distance behind us.

  Short of noon a man came up from the south riding a paint pony and hazing about thirty head of cattle. When he put eyes on us he rode his pony around the cattle and came up to us, keeping his Winchester handy and studying us careful-like.

  "You pass anybody back yonder? I'm huntin' my outfit."

  The brand on his pony and those cattle spelled the story for me -a Half-Box H. "You got stampeded a while back," I said, "and one of your outfit died in our camp."

  "Which one?"

  "Said he was the cook. Come to think on it, he never did give us his name. Said he rode for Evan Hawkes, and he told us Hawkes's boy got killed in the stampede."

  The man's face showed shock. "The boy's dead? That'll go hard on the boss. He set store by the lad."

  Me, I curled one leg around the pommel and pushed my hat back. "Mister, looks to me like your herd was scattered hell to breakfast. We covered some miles back yonder and seen nobody. What you figure to do?"

  "Drive these cattle into Dodge an' report to Evan Hawkes. All I can do."

  He told me his name was Briggs. "Might as well ride with us," I said to him, "It's one more gun for each of us."

  "What's that mean?"

  "That was James Black Fetchen's outfit from Tennessee who jumped your herd. They're hunting us. If we meet up with them there'll be shooting, and you can lay to it that if they see you're alive they'll be after you, too "

  "I'll ride along," he said.

  During the next hour we picked up thirteen head of scattered cattle wearing the Hawkes brand. By nightfall we had close to fifty head more. We'd scarcely made camp when we were hailed out of the night ... in those days no man in his right mind rode up to a strange camp without giving them a call.

  "That'll be Ladder Walker," Briggs said. "I know the voice."

  Walker was an extra tall, extra lean man, which was why they called him Ladder. He was driving six head of steers, and he had a lump on his skull and a grouch over what happened. "You catch sight of any of that bunch?" he asked Briggs. "All I ask is a sight down a gun barrel at them."

  "You stand easy, friend," Galloway said. "That's a mean outfit. If they can help it you'll not get a shooting chance."

  The upshot of it was that of the herd of fifteen hundred cattle the Half-Box H sent up the trail, we drove into Dodge with a hundred and twenty, picked up along the way. No doubt a few more riders could have combed twice that number out of the breaks along the creeks and the coulees, scattered stuff left behind from the stampede.

  Now, we Sacketts carried a name known in Dodge. Tyrel, Orrin, and some of the others had come into Dodge long before, Tyrel and Orrin being there when the town was mighty young. They were the first Sacketts to go west to settle. Their pa had come west earlier than that, riding and trapping fur along with Bridger, Carson, and Joe Meek. He'd never come back from his last trip, so it was always figured that some Blackfoot had raised his hair, back up in Montana. We'd heard the story as youngsters, but had never known any of that branch of the family until we bumped into Tyrel and Orrin down in the Mogollon, where they'd gone to lend a fighting hand to their brother Tell.

  Knowing that if the other riders had come through the stampede alive, they would head for Hawkes at his hotel, we went along with Walker and Briggs. Three other riders had already come in, which left seven missing.

  Evan Hawkes was a tall, broad-shouldered but spare-built man with darkish red hair. The build of him and the way he combed his hair reminded a body of Andy Jackson, and he had a pair of gray eyes that advised a man he'd make a better friend than an enemy.

  "They've got that herd to sell," Hawkes said, "and we will be there when they try. I'll pass the word around."

  "Mr. Hawkes," I said, "you got to remember that Fetchen is no fool. From all I hear, he's mighty shrewd, as well as mean. He may not sell that herd at all."

  "What do you mean?"

  "From what I've seen of those we gathered, you had quite a bit of young breeding stock. Fetchen could push that herd west into Wyoming, peddle the steers to Indians or the army or some beef contractor. Then he could use the young stuff to start his own outfit."

  "You believe he has come west to stay?"

  "I've been wondering about that. It doesn't seem reasonable they'd all come west without reason. I figure something happened back there after we left."

  Judith had been standing by getting madder by the minute, and now she let go at all of us. "You've no right to suppose anything of the kind! And you've no evidence that Black Fetchen stole that herd!"

  Hawkes looked at her, kind of surprised. "It seems to be there's a difference of opinion among you."

  "The little lady doesn't think Black is all that mean," Galloway said.

  "I certainly do not!"

  "The way we figure it," Galloway went on, "what happened to you is mostly our fault. You see, the Fetchens came west hunting us. Black wants the little lady here, and he wants her horses, some of the finest breeding stock you ever did see. Back there in Tazewell - "

  "Tennessee?" said Hawkes. "I know it well. I'm from Kentucky."

  "Well, we had a run-in with those boys, sort of calmed 'em down when they were about to show their muscle. They been used to having things their own way."

  Leaving Hawkes with his riders, the three of us went downstairs to the dining room. Judith had her nose up, and her cheeks were flushed and angry. When we'd found seats at a table she said, "You have no right to talk that way about Mr. Fetchen. He is an honorable man."

  "I hope so," Galloway commented, "because if he wasn't, and you went to him, you'd be in a kind of a fix, wouldn't you? This far from home, and all."

  We ordered, and then she started to look around some, and so did we. Neither me nor Galloway had been to many towns. We had seen Santa Fe, Dodge, Abilene, and Sedalia, Missouri, and both of us liked to see folks around us.

  There were cattle buyers, land speculators, officers from the army post, cattle drivers, gamblers and such like around. All of them were dressed to the nines, and were looking almighty fancy. Galloway and me had taken time before coming in to brush up a little, but somehow we didn't shape up like these folks. We looked like a pair of mountain boys still, and it shamed me. As soon as we got some money, I thought, we'd buy us some proper clothes.

  "You been to big towns, Judith?" Galloway asked her.

  "I have been to Atlanta and Nashville, and to New Orleans, Mobile, and Louisville ... oh, lots of towns. My folks traded in all of them."

  I'd had no idea she was such a traveled girl, but it followed. The Irish traders were folks that got about a good bit. There for a few minutes she forgot all about Black Fetchen and took to telling us about the big towns, and believe me, we listened to every word.

  The restaurant door opened while she was talking and I turned my head. It was Black Fetchen.

  He had surely changed. He wore a brand-new black broadcloth suit, a white shirt, and black tie. His boots were polished like all get out, and he carried a new black hat in his hand. His hair was all slicked down with bear grease or the like, and I'll have to admit he was a handsome sight. Tory came in behind him, with Colby Rafin and another one of their outfit known as Ira London.

  Fetchen walked right over to our table, the others sitting down across the room with their backs to us.

  "Why, Judith! How nice to see you!" Then he turned to me and said, "I hope you boys carry no grudge against us. We're certainly not about to hunt trouble with you. Back there we were just a-funnin' - we didn't mean no trouble."

  Judith was beaming. It made me mad to see so much sparkle in her eyes over such a no-account rascaL Me, I didn't buy that fla
nnel-mouth talk, and he knew it. All the time he was talking I could just see the taunting in his eyes; but Judith, she was all excited and happy.

  "Why, sure!" Galloway was the smooth-talking one of the two of us. "Why don't you pull up a chair and set? We'd enjoy talking a while. Maybe you could tell us something about a herd of cattle somebody stampeded and run off back down the trail."

  Judith's face went white and her lips tightened up. She was both mad and scared ... scared something was going to happen.

  "Cattle? Since when did you two go into the cattle business?"

  "They weren't our cattle," Galloway said as smooth as silk. "They belong to a friend of ours, name of Evan Hawkes ... a good man. His herd was stampeded by some rustlers ... murderers, too, because they killed his boy, and some of his men."

  Fetchen never batted an eye. Oh, he was a cool one! He just smiled and said, "Come to think of it, we did see a few stray cattle. We even drove in half a dozen and turned them over to the marshal."

  He pulled back a chair and sat down, easy as you please. "As a matter of fact, I didn't just come over to say howdy to some old friends from the home state. I came over to see Judith. Seems you boys aren't going to give me a chance to be alone with her, so I'll have to speak my piece right here before all of you."

  Judith's eyes were shining and her lips were parted. I didn't like it to see her getting so flustered. Before I could say anything, Black Fetchen, still smiling like the cat sizing up the canary, says, "Judith, will you marry me?"

  And before either of us can say aye, yes, or no, she ups and says, "Yes, James - yes, I will!"

  "I'm honored, ma'am, right honored." Then he says, "I don't think it is really the right thing for a man's betrothed to be spending so much time with two men, single men who are no kin to her, so I've taken a room for you here at the hotel until we're married."

  We sat there, caught flat-footed. This here was something we hadn't expected, nor did we know what to do. It was Galloway who spoke first "That's right nice, Black," he said, "but her grandpa asked us most particular to take her to her pa in Colorado. Now, it ain't so many miles from here, so why don't you two figure on being married there where her pa can attend? After all, she's his only daughter."

  Fetchen never stopped smiling. "Mr. Sackett, I wouldn't expect you to understand, but I am in love. I do not want to wait."

  "Nor do I!" Judith said. "We can be married right here in Dodge."

  Galloway didn't show any ire, even if he felt it. He just said, "It would be nice if your pa knew, Judith. Do you care so little for him?"

  That got to her, and she sobered up, suddenly so serious I thought she might cry.

  "It's a noble sacrament," I said, "and a rare thing for a man to see his daughter wedded to the man of her choice."

  She looked up at Fetchen. "James .. maybe we should wait. After all, it isn't very far."

  Black's lips tightened and his eyes squinted just a mite. I'd always heard he carried a fearful temper, liable to burst out whenever he was thwarted, and it was edging toward the surface now. Maybe if she saw him in a rage it would help. Me and Galloway must have been thinking the same thing. Only trouble was, I up and made a damn fool of myself. I said the wrong thing.

  "Besides," I said, "Judith is only a youngster. She's not old enough to marry."

  Judith ran up her flag and let go with all her guns, she was that mad. "Flagan Sackett, you wouldn't know a woman if you saw one! I am so old enough! We'll just show you how old I am! James, if you're ready we can be married tomorrow morning."

  Fetchen straightened up. Of course, that was all he wanted all the time. He threw me a look that was what a body might call triumphant. "I would be honored, Judith. If you'll come with me I'll show you to your room."

  Judith got up and turned her back squarely to me. I started to speak, but what could I say?

  Fetchen turned and looked back at us. "Gentlemen, I'll send a couple of the boys over for my fiancee's clothing and her horses - all of them."

  "What do you mean, all of them?"

  "I mean those you two have been riding. They are Costello horses."

  "For which we have a bill of sale," I said calmly, but I was fighting mad underneath.

  "That's right, James," Judith said. "Those horses belong to them."

  "We will look into that a bit further," Fetchen replied. "I do not think those bills of sale, as you call them, will stand up in court."

  They walked away together and left us sitting there, and of a sudden I no longer had any appetite. Youngster she might be, but I had no wish to see any girl in the hands of Black Fetchen.

  "Galloway, we can't let him do it. We got to stop him."

  "You tell me how. She wants to marry him, and we can't prove a thing against him."

  "Do you suppose he really drove in some Half-Box H cattle?"

  "I'd lay a bet on it. Oh, he's a smart one! If anybody saw him with cattle of that brand, he's now got himself an alibi. Also, it makes him look good with the other cattlemen around."

  "What's he see in her, do you suppose?"

  Galloway, he gave me an odd look. "Why, you damn' fool, that's a right pretty little girl. Shapes up like pretty much of a woman. And in case you forget, Ma was no older when she married Pa."

  He was right, only I didn't like to admit it. That Judith seemed like a youngster ... all those freckles and everything. Only when I started reminding myself of that everything, I got to remembering that what Galloway had been saying was right. She was nigh to being a woman, even if she wasn't one yet ... in my judgment, anyway.

  "Flagan, what are we going to do?"

  Upshot of it was, we went to see the marshal, Wyatt Earp, but he said he could do nothing. "Sorry, boys." He was kind of abrupt. "Mr. Fetchen brought in some of the Hawkes cattle and turned them over at the corral. That certainly doesn't make him seem a thief. Also, there seems to be no evidence that he had anything to do with running off the herd. As for the girl, she is old enough to marry, and she wants to marry him. I am afraid I can do nothing."

  Bat Masterson was sheriff of Ford County, and we went next to see him. He was a right handsome young man about twenty-four or -five years old, wearing a dark suit and black derby hat. You had to be quite a man to wear a hard hat in those days; it was such a temptation for some half-drunk cowpoke to try to shoot it off your head. Bat's didn't carry any bullet marks that I could see.

  He listened to what we had to say, then shook his head. "Sorry, boys, there's nothing I can do. The girl has a right to marry, and there's no warrant out for any of that crowd." He paused a minute. "Although I've got some good ideas of my own."

  "Anything we can tie to?" Galloway asked.

  "No. But a man who rode in the other day said he saw the Fetchen outfit driving about fifty head of cattle. They didn't turn in but half a dozen scrubs."

  "Ain't that evidence?"

  "Not exactly. Rufe was drunk when he saw them. Now, I'd take his word for how many head he saw, drunk or sober - Rufe's an old cowhand. But I doubt if you could make it stick in a court of law."

  "What can we do?"

  Masterson tipped back in his chair and considered the question. "I'd say you might wire her grandfather. Get authority from him to hold up the wedding. And wire her father too."

  Well now. Neither one of us had even thought of that, because we'd had no truck with telegraph wires. We'd heard about them, and seen the wires along the railroad tracks, but the idea of sending a message to Costello never occurred to us.

  "If you'd write us out a message, we'd be obliged," I said, "and you'd be helping a mighty nice girl from a bad marriage."

  So Bat taken up a pen and scratched out the message. I had figured a body would have to write it some special way, but nothing of the kind.

  He wrote it out, slick as you please: Fetchen here. Proposed marriage, Judith accepted. Wire authority to stop marriage.

  "If we get a wire from Costello saying he refuses permission," Masterson said, "I'll
stop it."

  When we had sent the message we stood on the boardwalk in front of the Long Branch and considered the situation. Of a sudden, Galloway had an idea. "This sort of town," he said thoughtfully, "I wonder how many preachers it's got?"

  "Three, four, maybe."

  He was looking at me kind of funny-like and I began to read the sign of what he was thinking. "Now, that there," I said, "is what comes of contemplating. I think we better ask around."

  "Ladder Walker, Harry Briggs, and them," Galloway said, "they owe us a favor, and Hawkes told me this morning that they were holding what cattle they'd found about fifteen miles north of here. I figure one of those boys should talk to a preacher. Ladder, f'r instance. If he was dyin' he would surely want a preacher."

  About that time Bat came walking down the street headed for the Long Branch, carrying the cane from which he had taken his name.

  "Mr. Masterson," I said, "how many preachers in Dodge?"

  "Bat's eyes started to twinkle. "You're lucky," he said. "They're all out of town but one." And then he added, "Don't forget the justice of the peace."

  Galloway, he rounded up his horse and headed for the camp on the run to set up the deal at that end. Me, I mounted up, taken my horse out of town for a good run, and brought him back into town and up to the preacher's house, all lathered up.

  "Reverend," I said, "there's a man in a bad way out to a cow camp, and he's bound to make his peace with the Lord. Will you ride out to him?"

  Now, that sky pilot was a right fine gentlemen who put down his coffee cup, wiped his mouth, and harnessed his team. I hooked up the traces whilst he slipped into his coat. In less time than it takes to tell about it, he was ready.

  "One more thing," I said, "he wishes to make a will, and he said the man he wanted to draw it up for him was the justice of the peace. Said he didn't know whether the J.P. was a proper lawyer or not, but he doesn't care. He believes he's an honest man."

  Well, with me riding alongside the buckboard we made it to the J.P.'s house and he was quick enough to go. It looked like a good fee and he was ready. They went dusting out of town in that buckboard, riding on their mission of mercy, and I tailed behind them.