Turning my horse, I taken a good hold on that rope, let out a wild Comanche yell, and slapped spurs to that palouse.
Those spurs surprised him. He taken out like a scared rabbit. Ripping down those guy ropes and collapsing the other tents, I lit out. When I'd done what I could that way, I rode back through between the tents at a dead run. As I came through, a gang of men rushed up and caught themselves in a loop of rope.
It tumbled the lot of them, and dragged some. I let go the rope and, leaning from the saddle, I wrenched loose a length of tent stake. I rode up on that bunch and rapped a skull here and there.
A man on the stoop of the store building grabbed his pistol. I tossed that stake at his face and said, "Catch!"
He jumped back, fell over the last step and half inside the door.
Riding by, I drew up in the shadow. I'd sure enough played hob. Two small tents had collapsed and folks were struggling under them. The big tent was leaning away over. There was a lot of shouting, and somebody yelled, "No, you don't! Drop that money!" A shot was fired.
I remembered Pa's advice then, and taken time to contemplate. Setting my horse there in the shadows, I watched that mess-up and enjoyed it.
There was swelling under those tents, everybody arguing and swearing. Nobody was making any kind of sense.
One tent flattened down as the men struggled from under it. I decided they needed light, so I taken a flaming stick from the outside fire and tossed it at that flattened-out tent.
Somebody saw me and yelled. I turned sharp and trotted my horse away just as he let go with a shotgun. Then that tent burst into flame and I had to move back further.
They wanted to settle on my town site without paying, did they? They wanted to shoot up my camp?
I happened to notice their corral on the edge of the wash. A couple of saddles, a rope . . . Shaking out a loop, I caught a comer post of the corral with my rope and rode off, pulling it down. Horses streamed by me.
Surely does beat all what a man can do when he sets his mind to being destructive.
One leg hooked around my saddlehorn, I spoke gentle to my horse to warn him of trouble to come, and then I turned my head to the sky.
"When I walked out on the streets of Laredo, when I--"
A bullet cut wind near me, and I taken off. Seemed like nobody liked my singing.
Chapter XI
"There was a faint lemon color edging the gray of the clouds when trolled out of my blankets. Joe Rugger had teased the fire into flame and put water on for coffee. Sticking my feet into my boots, stomped them into place and slung my gun belt around my hips. Expecting trouble, that was all I had taken off, except for my vest. I put on my vest and tucked another gun behind toy belt and then walked out to the edge of the woods. Oh, sure, I had my hat on--first thing a cow-boy does when he crawls out of bed in the morning is to put his hat on.
Looked to me like somebody was leaving over yonder.
Ange was up, her hair combed as pretty as might be, and sunlight catching the gold of it through a rift in the clouds. She brought me a cup of coffee.
"I suppose you're satisfied with what you've done," she said. Thank you, ma'am. . . . Satisfied? Well, now. Takes a lot to satisfy a man, takes a lot to please him if he's any account. But what I did, I did well ... yes, ma'am, I'm pleased."
"I thought you were a good man."
"Glad to hear you say so. It's an appearance I favor. Not that I've ever been sure what it was made a good man. Mostly I'd say a good man is one you can rely on, one who does his job and stands by what he believes."
"Do you believe in killing people?"
"No, ma'am, not as a practice. Trouble is, if a body gets trouble out here he can't call the sheriff . . . there isn't any sheriff. He can't have his case judged by the law, because there aren't any judges. He can't appeal to anybody or anything except his own sense of what's just and right.
"There's folks around believe they can do anything they're big enough to do, no matter how it tromples on other folks' rights. That I don't favor.
"Some people you can arbitrate with . . . you can reason a thing out and settle it fair and square. There's others will understand nothing but force.
"Joe Rugger now, there's a good man. Cap Rountree is another. They are trying to build something. Those others, they figure to profit by what other people do, and I don't aim to stand by in silence."
"You have no authority for such actions."
"Yes, ma'am, I do. The ideas I have are principles that men have had for many a year. I've been reading about that. When a man enters into society --that's living with other folks--he agrees to abide by the rules of that society, and when he crosses those rules he becomes liable to judgment, and if he continues to cross them, then he becomes an outlaw.
In wild country like this a man has no appeal but to that consideration, and when he fights against force and brutality, he must use the weapons he has.
"Take Joe Rugger now. He rode in here with a lot of mighty mean, shiftless folks. He broke with them and came over to us when we were short-handed. He knew when he made that choice that it might be the death of him.
"Ma'am, I'm not an educated man, but I'm trying to make up for it. Thing is, when folks started to live together, a long time ago, they worked out certain laws, like respecting the rights of others, giving folks the benefit of the doubt, sharing the work of the community ... that sort of thing. ' "Cap and me figured to start a town, and we wanted it to be a good town where there would someday be women-folks walking the streets to and where youngsters could play. And you know something? We've got our first citizen. We've got Joe Rugger."
"I never thought of it that way." She said it grudgingly, and she riled me.
No, ma'am, folks don't," I said with considerable "People who live in comfortable, settled towns with law-abiding citizens and a government to protect them, they never think of the men who came first, the ones who went through hell to build something.
"I tell you, ma'am, when my time comes to ride out, I want to see a school over there with a bell in the tower, and a church, and I want to see families dressed up of a Sunday, and a flag flying over there. And if I have to do it with a pistol, I will.
This time I riled her. She walked away stiff-like, and I could see that I'd said the wrong thing.
When I finished my coffee Joe came out to stand guard, and I went back and ate some venison and some sour-dough bread dipped in sorghum molasses.
Cap looked a sight better. His eyes were brighter, and there was color in his faded cheeks. 'Well, Cap," I said, "I never had any doubt. You're too mean and ornery to die like this. Way I figure, you'll die in a corner just snapping and grabbing and cutting around you. You'll die with your teeth in somebody if I know you right.
"Now you hurry up and get out of there. Joe and me are getting almighty tired of you laying up while we do all the work." "How are things?"
"Sober. Looks to me like those folks have started to settle down to think things out. Time I went over and had a talk with them. Time to make a little medicine." "You be careful."
"I'm a careful man. Time comes to run, I ain't afraid to run. When I ride down there this morning, I'm going for a showdown." "Wish I could go along."
"You set tight ... I think they'll stand for reasoning now. I plan to get them to sit down and contemplate. And if they can't cut the mustard that way, they'll get their walking papers." "All of them?"
"Shucks, there ain't no more than forty."
With my Winchester across my saddle, I rode down. They saw me coming, but I was walking
my horse in plain sight and they waited for me.
With the exception of that fat man who had come with Kitch to our camp, I saw nobody I knew until Ab Warren came outside. He was not wearing a gun.
"You men have moved into a town site staked and claimed by Cap Rountree and myself. You took it on yourselves to occupy building sites we had laid out. You taken our timber. Last night you found out a little of what tro
uble can be. Now I've come down here to arbitrate this matter, and I'm going to do it right here in my saddle.
"When Cap and me moved in here, we had an election. He became mayor and I became town marshal by popular acclamation. It was popular with both of us.
"As Cap is laid up, I'm acting mayor as well as marshal. I am also the town council and the vigilante committee, and any time during these proceedings that anybody wants to challenge my authority, he can have at it. We're going to have a town here. I think it's to be a rich town; but rich or poor, it's going to be law-abiding. Any who aren't ready to go for that had better saddle up, because until get some constituted authority (I wasn't real sure what "constituted" meant but it sounded mighty good), I am going to run it with a six-gun,"
"Whoever has occupied that building will move out, starting now. That is to be the general store, ; and Joe Rugger has a lease on it."
The fat man spoke up. "I'm in that building, and had it built."
"Who paid for the lumber?
He hesitated, then blustered. "That's no matter.
found it here and we--" "It belongs to Cap and me. We valued it at one thousand dollars. Pay for it here and now, or get out of the building. As for the work involved, you can charge that up to poor judgment on your part, and know better next time."
"You can't get away with that!"
"You've got ten minutes to start moving. After that I throw things out--you included."
Ignoring him, I looked the others over. They were a bunch of toughs for the most part, although here and there were some men that looked likely.
"We're going to need a saloon--a straight one. And we're going to need a hotel and an eating house. If any of you want to have a try at it, you'll get cooperation from us."
The fat man was the leader, I could see that, but he was red-faced and mad, not sure of how much backing he would get. Several had pulled out already. Kitch and his partner were dead. Ab Warren was here to tell them how that happened.
Suddenly a burly, unshaved man stepped out of the crowd. "I cooked for a railroad construction crew one time. I'd like to handle that eating house."
"All right, you trim that beard and wash your shirt, and you've got thirty days to prove you can cook grub fit to eat. If you can't, you get somebody who can."
A slim young fellow who looked pale around the gills, like he hadn't been west long, spoke up. "I'm a hotel man, and I can also run a saloon. I can run it honest."
"All right." With my left hand I took a paper from my shirt front. "Here's the plan Cap and me laid out. You two study that and choose your sites. When you get your plans made, you draw straws to see who builds first; the other helps, and turn about."
It was time to settle things with that fat man. Somebody was speaking low to him and I heard the fat man called Murchison.
"Murchison," I said, "you have about three minutes to get started. And this time I don't mean cleaning out that building. I mean down the road."
"Now, look here--"
My horse walked right up to him. "You came in here to ride rough-shod over what you thought was a helpless old man. You showed no respect for the rights of others or the rights of property. You'd be no help to a town. Get on your horse and start traveling."
Pushing my horse forward another step, I backed Murchison up. The appaloosa stepped right up on the stoop after him.
"I'll be back," Murchison said angrily. "The Bigelows are in Silverton."
"We'll hold a place for you," I said, "right along-side of Kitch."
Ab Warren stayed. Murchison rode from town that morning and about fifteen men rode with him.
There was a Texas Ranger one time who said that there's no stopping a man who knows he's in the right and keeps a-coming. Well, I've often been wrong, but this time I was right and they had to pay mind to me or bury me, and mine is a breed that dies hard.
In the days that followed, other folks began to drift in. The second week a rider came, and then two wagons. Claims were taken up along the creek and one man drove in about thirty head of sheep which he started feeding along the moutainside. Joe Rugger got his store going, Allison his hotel, which he started in the big gambling tent that had been abandoned. Briggs ran a good eating house. Nothing fancy, but simple food, mighty well-cooked. Aside from beef and beans, he served up bear meat, venison, and elk.
We saw nothing of the Bigelows, but we heard aplenty. Tom and Ira were the two we heard most about. They were suspected of holding up a stage near Silverton. Tom had killed a man in Denver City, and had been in a shooting in Leadville. Ira was a gambler, dividing his time between Silverton and some other boom camps.
They had made their brags about me. They would take care of me when they found time. I'd as soon they never found it.
Twice I made trips into the mountains and came back down with gold . . . two muleloads the last time.
Esteban Mendoza and Tina came over and built a cabin in town, near the foot of the mountain, and Esteban had two freight wagons working along the Silverton road.
Ange Kerry moved away from our camp and got a little place in town where she lived, and she worked with Joe Rugger in the store, which combined with the post office and Wells Fargo express. She had never been the same toward me since I killed Kitch and his partner.
She was prettier than ever, and mighty popular around town. Nearly everybody sort of protected her. Joe Rugger brought his wife out and they built a home on the back end of the store.
Cap took a long time mending, and he hadn't much energy when he was able to walk, so it was up to me to do what was done.
Of an evening I read what newspapers I could find, and kept hammering away at Blackstone.
Time to time somebody would drift into camp, stay a while, and drift out again, leaving books behind. I read whatever there was. But mostly I worked.
I built us a three-room log house high on the bench, with my old trail up the mountain right behind it, and the spring close by. I built a strong stable and corral against the coming winter, and I oat(?) a few tons of hay in the meadow.
There was snow on some of the peaks now where I hadn't seen it before. A time or two, early in the morning, there was frost in the bottom, and once ice slicked over a bucket of left-out water.
The old barricades I let lie, and I kept the brush trimmed off the mesa. Grass was growing high out there, and there was good grazing for our stock.
When I went to town now there were few whom I knew. Joe Rugger was acting mayor, Allison and Briggs were loyal men. Murchison had come back and started a small gambling house. There were about two hundred people in town, and she was running like a top.
The aspen began to turn yellow . . . seemed like I'd been here years, though it was only a few months.
There was little trouble. Two men killed each Other over a poker game in Murchison's joint, and there was a cutting down on the creek, some private affair over a woman.
One night Cap came in and sat down. "You stay at the books," he said, "and you'll ruin your eyes."
"I've got to learn, Cap."
"You take after those brothers of yours. As soon as they learned to read there was no holding them."
"They've done well."
"Yes, they have. Married, too."
I didn't answer right away, but finally I said, "Well, it takes two."
"You seen Ange lately?"
"You know I haven't."
"That's a mighty fine girl. She won't be around always. I hear that Ira Bigelow is paying her mind."
"Bigelow? Is he in town?"
"Rode in a few days ago while you were in the mountains. Only stayed a few hours, but he managed to meet Ange, and he talked it up to her. He's a handsome man."
Didn't cut much ice, reading about ethics and all. Inside, I could feel myself getting mean. The thought of any of those Bigelows around Ange . . . well, sir, a thing like that could make me mean as an old bear.
Of an evening I would walk outside and look toward the town lights, but I
didn't often go down to the street. And it was time for me to make my last trip of the season into the high peaks. I wanted one more load out of there before snow fell. Not that there hadn't been snow up that high, but I had a hunch there was time for one trip. With the new route in, and no need to go by way of the chute, I might make it in and back.
"Going up the mine tomorrow," I told Cap. I stood there a moment. "You know, Ange should come in for a share of that. Her grandpa was hunting it when he died up there ... he had him a map, and one of those dead Spanish men must have been a relative of his ... or one of the live ones."
"I was thinking that. Wondered if you'd get around to it."
Picking up my hat, I said, "I think I'll go talk to her."
"You do that," Cap said. "You surely do it"
Anyway, it was time I bought me an outfit--new clothes, and the like. I had money now.
Turning to leave, I stopped. Esteban Mendoza was in the doorway. "Senor Tell? I must speak with you."
He came on into the room. "I was working at my freight wagons fixing some harness, and it became very dark while I sat there, and when I am through I put out the lantern and then sit for a while, enjoying the coolness.
"Beyond the wagon are several men, and they are talking. They do not know I am there, and so I keep very still, for one of them speaks of you. He says you have gold that is not placer gold, but from quartz, from a lode. They believe the mine is in the mountains."
"Who were the men?"
"One is named Tuthill. . . they call him Meester. Another is called Boyd."
Cap looked over at me. "The banker and that gambler from Las Vegas."
"How about the others?"
He shrugged. "I do not know. But I think they plan to follow you into the mountains if you go again."
"Thanks, 'Steban. Thanks very much."
After he left I gave it some thought. It was important to make one more trip up there. I not only wanted to get enough gold to start buying my ranch, but I wanted to cover up the work I'd done at the mine in case somebody found the way up to the valley. The trip was a risk I would have to take.
Cap was getting around pretty good now, better than before, and Esteban would look in on him from time to time. He was well enough to care for himself, and he had friends in the town.
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