by Andre Norton
“Sergeant, take those two men into custody.” A jerk of the head indicated Drew and Anse. The Kentuckian straightened.
“On what charge, Captain?” he got out.
“Attacking a United States soldier.”
“In performance of his duty, Captain?” Reese Topham cut in. “I hardly think you can say that. Your men were apparently off duty. At least they were in here, drinking, too. You did serve them, Fowler?”
“Sure did, boss! Let’s see now…Helms, he had whisky; so did Stevens. Mitchell, now, he had a beer—”
“It remains that they were attacked while wearing the uniform!” Bayliss’ glare now included the full company before him.
“From what I’ve heard, they did the attacking,” Topham pointed out. “At least Helms seems to have given provocation. No, Captain Bayliss, your men were in here drinking. They started a brawl. Your sergeant very rightly broke it up. That’s the sum of the matter!”
Bayliss’ high color was fading. “You want it left that way, Topham?” he asked icily. “This only confirms my contention that matters in Tubacca are completely out of control, that the Rebel element has the backing of the citizens. I shall so report it.”
“That is your privilege.” Topham nodded. “But this is still Tubacca and not your camp, Captain. And my cantina. If you want to declare my establishment out of bounds for your men, that is also your privilege.”
“I do so—immediately! Sergeant, get these men out of here!”
“What about the prisoners, sir?”
“I think the captain will agree there are no prisoners,” Topham said. “We would be obliged to give evidence at any army hearing, Captain. Kirby here is not a troublemaker. I would unhesitatingly vouch for him.”
Bayliss looked directly at Drew.
“You have a job? A reason for being in town?” He shot the questions as he might have shot slugs from his Colt. Nye answered before Drew could.
“He sure has a job, Cap’n. He’s ridin’ th’ rough string for Rennie. An’ he came to town with them remounts you’re buyin’. An’ what Topham says is true, th’ kid ain’t no troublemaker. He’s ’bout th’ most peaceful hombre I ever rode with.”
“Rider for Rennie, eh? I might have known!” Bayliss snapped. “And what about this one—he riding for Rennie, too?” He pointed to Anse.
“He’s my cousin,” Drew returned. “He just got into town.”
“Another Rebel?”
Anse stood up. “If you mean was I with th’ Confederate army, Yankee—I sure was, from Shiloh clean through. Got me this to prove it. Do you want to see?” From the inner band of his hat he brought out a much creased paper. “No, you don’t!” He twitched the sheet away when Bayliss reached for it. “I’ll jus’ let Mister Topham read it. I want to keep it safe.” He handed the paper to the gambler.
“Parole, Captain, signed and made out properly,” Topham reported. “Dated in Tennessee for a prisoner of war—June, 1865. I hardly think you can claim this is one of Kitchell’s men, if that is what you have in mind.”
“No, but he’ll be out of this town or he’ll answer to me. Both of you—next time you step over the line, I’m taking you both in!” Bayliss spoke now to Nye. “I heard young Shannon was here, that you had him in tow and that he’s seen Kitchell. I want to talk to him.”
“He’s over to th’ doc’s, an’ Doc’ll have th’ say ’bout that, Cap’n,” Nye replied. “Johnny took a pretty bad crease ’longside his skull.”
“He’ll answer a few questions that badly need answering.” Bayliss was already on his way to the door. Nye stepped back and let him pass. He grinned.
“Let him have it out with Doc. Ain’t nobody runnin’ a stampede over Doc Matthews, not even th’ cap’n when he’s got his tail up an’ ready to hook sod with both horns. Only, lissen here, kid, maybe you’d better keep outta sight. Seems like a man who’s waitin’ to catch a fella makin’ his boot mark in th’ wrong pasture can sometimes do it.”
“Nye’s right,” Topham agreed. “Bayliss can either catch you off guard or see you’re provoked again into doing something he can rope you in for. I’d get back to the Range and stay there until things settle down a little and someone else takes the good captain’s mind off you.”
“What about Anse? You take him on, Nye?” Drew asked.
“I ain’t got th’ authority to hire, Kirby. But no reason why he can’t go down th’ trail with us. Old Man is always on lookout for a good rider. Soon as we see how Johnny’s doin’, we’ll head south. I already sent Greyfeather back to tell the Old Man th’ kid’s hurt an’ up here. Reese, what’d you think ’bout Bayliss? That he’ll try to take over runnin’ the town?”
“Might just,” the gambler replied.
“Could he do it?”
“I hardly think so. What he’s really out for is Hunt’s hide. He doesn’t want a powerful civilian ready to face up to him all the time. If he can discredit Don Cazar in this country, he figures he has it made.”
Nye laughed shortly. “Lordy, what bottle did he suck out a dream like that? A lizard might jus’ as well try to fight it out with a cougar an’ think he hadda chance of winnin’. This here’s th’ Range, an’ ain’t nobody but th’ Old Man runs th’ Range! Bayliss, he’s ridin’ for a fall as will jar them big grinnin’ teeth of his right outta his jaws!”
“Maybe, only there can be upsets.” Topham looked thoughtful.
“What kind—and how?” Drew asked quickly.
Topham was playing with the three books, setting them up, putting them flat again. “Hunt didn’t take sides during the war, but he did have Southern sympathies in part. After all, he was Texas-born. And Johnny joined Howard when they raised that Confederate troop here. He retreated with Sibley’s force back east and fought through the rest of the war on the Southern side. Yes, Bayliss, given the right circumstances and a sympathetic listening ear in high circles, could make trouble for Rennie. Especially if the good captain had an incident on which to hang such a report.”
“You kinda shoved him into that out-of-bounds order for th’ Jacks, didn’t you now?” Nye pushed his hat to the back of his head and lit a cigarillo.
“Muller and most of the boys can be counted on not to cause any more than the normal pay-night disturbances. But there’re some.… What did happen here today, Kirby?”
Drew told it straight and flat in as few words as possible. And Topham’s face was sober when he had finished. The gambler brought the top book of the pile down on the bar with a thud.
“I don’t like it!”
“Jus’ ornery meanness, warn’t it? There’s always a few hombres in any outfit as tries to push when they gits a slug or two under their belts,” Nye observed.
“True. Only Helms went out of his way this time. And I’d like to know what triggered him into it. I can understand some roughhousing on his part—Stevens, too—providing these boys were on the prod in the beginning. But this book business was too deliberate. Books—” He held up the volume he was still fingering. “Where’d these come from anyway, Kirby?”
Drew retailed the story he had heard from Stein. Nye walked over to look at the display of reading matter, his interest plainly aroused.
“Lutterfield brought ’em in, eh? Now that’s somethin’. Trunk in a cave…Sounds like these might belong to one of them mine men—a super, maybe. They pulled out fast in ’61, right after th’ army left. Except for Hodges, an’ th’ Rebs threw him in jail after they took his business an’ what cash he had on hand.”
“Could be,” Topham agreed. “But where they came from doesn’t matter as much as why Helms chose to use them the way he did. However—and now I’m giving it to you straight, Kirby—this is once I’d follow Bayliss’ orders. You and your cousin here had better make yourselves scarce.”
“An’ jus’ why?” Anse demanded. “We ain’t givin’ you any double-tongue wag over this—”
“I’m not saying you are. I’m just saying that Bayliss and probably Helms—
maybe others—will be waiting, just as the captain promised. You can be easily suckered into just such another fight. And they’d be smarter about it next time, so you won’t have anyone to call their bluff in your favor. Once they get you into the camp stockade, it might be difficult to get you out. And this is something else, stranger, you went for your gun a few minutes ago. Kirby stopped you, but next time that could lead to real trouble.”
“I can’t see why—” Drew began.
“Well”—Anse was on the defensive—“a man can take jus’ so much pushin’, an’ we had more’n that! Next time anybody lays his dirty hands on me, he’s gonna know he’s had him trouble, all right!”
“I don’t mean that.” Drew waved Anse’s retort aside. “I don’t see why we were jumped in the first place. Unless it was because we happened to be here at a time when they wanted to start trouble?” He made that into a question and looked to Topham for the answer.
“Could be,” the gambler admitted.
“Only you’re not sure?” Drew persisted.
“Could be you were handy and they had some kind of a hint to start a ruckus just to show there ain’t any proper law here. Could be that they knew you ride for Hunt and that made you just the game they wanted.”
“Helms’s kinda dumb to play any cute game,” Nye protested. “An’ th’ sarge, he’s always been a good guy, I don’t see him bitin’ happy on any such backhand orders.”
“Not orders, no. Captain Bayliss is still too army to give any such orders. Helms’s always been a troublemaker; he wouldn’t need much more than a suggestion or two of the right sort. Helms, Stevens, Danny Birke, and that kid Mitchell. You’re right so far, Nye.” Topham grinned. “Like as not, I’m imaginin’ things—a greenhorn huntin’ Apaches behind every bush. None of that crew has the brains to see anything beyond the tip of his nose. No, I guess we can take it that you were handy and they had too much red-eye on empty stomachs. Only, I mean it, Kirby, you walk soft and get back to the Range as quick as you can.”
“That suits me,” Drew agreed.
“Come on over an’ let Doc take a look at that face of yours,” Nye ordered. “You look like you came up behind a mule an’ the critter did a mite of dancin’ backwards! You come ’long, too,” he extended the invitation to include Anse.
His face patched up after a fashion, Drew lay full length on the hay in his old place over Shadow’s stall back at Kells’ stable. Anse sat crosslegged beside him, the bruise now a black shadow on his jaw.
“Somethin’ ’bout this show’s bad, plain as a black saddle on a white hoss. Nobody could be fannin’ a six-gun for you personal, Drew, ’less you had a run-in before with one of them Blue Bellies.” The Texan paused and Drew shook his head, wincing at the pain from his numerous cuts and bruises.
Anse went on. “Some hombres are always on th’ peck once they get likkered up, but them troopers weren’t that deep. Looks to me now, thinkin’ it over, they was out to make sod fly. Could be as they had trouble with some other riders an’ we was handy an’ looked peaceable enough to take easy. But I dunno. You know, a fella who’s scouted an’ hunted Injuns an’ popped bush cattle, to say nothin’ of toppin’ wild ones what can look like a nice quiet little pony one minute an’ have a belly full of bedsprings an’ a sky touchin’ back th’ next—a fella who’s had him all that kinda experience an’ a saddlebag full of surprises in his time gits so he can smell a storm comin’ ’fore th’ first cloud shows. If we had the sense we shoulda been born with, we’d ride hell-to-thunder outta here now!”
“Anse”—Drew wriggled up on one elbow—“you do that. I ain’t going to pull you into anything—”
“So,” the Texan said, nodding, “you’ve been swallowin’ down a whim-wham or two your ownself?”
“Yes, but every one of them could be only a shadow to scare a jackrabbit.”
“Only you plan to go out an’ spit in th’ shadow’s eye?”
“Guess so.”
“Then there’ll be two of us. Providin’ Rennie can use him ’nother hand. You know, this might be interestin’. ’Member what they used to say in the army? Don’t go borrowin’ trouble nor try to cross a river till you git th’ water lappin’ at your boots.”
CHAPTER 9
“Times is gittin’ better.” Crow Fenner rode with one knee cocked up over the horn of his saddle, allowing Tar to drop into a pace at which he seemed to be actually sleep-walking. The wagon train was traveling slow, the wagons riding heavy in the ruts with their burden of northern goods heading south. But they were strung in good order and Drew, having seen the screen of outriders and Pima Scouts, thought that though they offered temptation, they were not to be easily taken by anything less than a small troop, very well armed and reckless.
“Yes, siree, this here’s th’ second time we made th’ trip through without havin’ to burn up a sight of gunpowder! Guess them army boys millin’ around back an’ forth across th’ territory do some good, after all. Pretty soon there won’t be no need for wearin’ guns loose an’ tryin’ to grow eyes in th’ back of yore skull!” But Fenner’s own rifle still rode on guard across his knees, and Drew noted that the scout never broke a searching survey of the countryside.
“Gittin’ downright civilized, eh?” Anse brought his mount up equal with the other two.
Fenner spat. “Now that thar I ain’t cottonin’ to none. Ride ’long without some Injun or bandido poppin’ lead at m’back. Yep, that’s what a man kin enjoy. But I ain’t takin’ to have maybe one o’ them thar engine trains snortin’ out dirty smoke an’ sparks hereabouts. Took me a ride on one of them things onct—never agin! Why a man wants to git hisself all stuck up with cinders an’ cover territory faster than th’ Good Lord ever intended him to travel—that’s some stupid thinkin’ I can’t take to. A good hoss, maybe a wagon, does a man want to do some tradin’ like Don Cazar—that’s right enough. But them trains, they’s pure pizen an’ a full soppin’ keg o’ it!”
Drew looked about him. The road, rutted deep by the heavy wagons, curled southward. Those wheel tracks had first been cut almost a hundred years earlier when the Spaniards had set up their southwestern outposts. This country was far older than Kentucky, and with just as bloody a history of wars, raids, and battles. Kentucky had been tamed; trains did puff along through the Blue Grass and the mountains there. But here—he shook his head in answer to his own thoughts.
“Ain’t nobody gonna try to run a railroad through here,” Anse replied promptly. “First place, they’re gonna be busy for a while back east puttin’ up new ones for all them what were busted up in th’ war. Our boys an’ theirs, too, got real expert toward th’ end—could heat up a rail an’ tie a regular noose in it, were some tree handy to rope it ’round. Gonna take th’ Yankees some doin’ to git all them back into place.” He laughed. “Drew, ’member that time we took them river steamers an’ had us a real feed? Times when I was in that Yankee stockade eatin’ th’ swill they called rations I used to dream ’bout them pickles an’ canned peaches an’ crackers with long sweetin’ poured on ’em!”
“Heard tell as you boys don’t think th’ war’s clear over yet,” Fenner observed. “Didn’t you have yoreselves a ruckus with th’ soldiers at th’ Four Jacks?”
Drew’s reminiscent smile faded. But he was not going to keep on protesting about the right or wrong of what happened back in town. The way Nye and Topham had hustled Anse and him out with the wagon train had made it seem as if they were in disgrace, and that rankled a lot. What was expected of them—that they should have let Helms pour it on—maybe serve as butts for a series of practical jokes without raising a finger in their own defense? On the other hand, the Kentuckian could see the sense behind Topham’s arguments. If Bayliss wanted to use Drew’s connection with the Range as a weapon in some scheme against Hunt Rennie, then Hunt Rennie’s son was only too willing to clear out. Perhaps he should clear out even farther and head for California. Drew began to think about that. There was Sage. She couldn’t hope
to make such a trip for maybe six months. That would mean putting off traveling until next spring or early summer. But six months…Of course, he could go now. Don Cazar would buy the foal and Shadow, too, and give him a fair price. That would be relinquishing a dream. No Spur R brand would ever be established here in Arizona. But sometimes dreams were priced too high.…
“You’re mighty grim-mouthed,” Anse commented, glancing at Drew sideways. “Thinkin’ of trains runnin’ through here git you down that far? Or else that roughenin’ up you took in town still sit sour on your stomach?”
“Sits sour all right,” Drew admitted. “Sits sourer to think we were suckered into it.”
The scout glanced from one to the other of the young men.
“You think there’s somethin’ in all that talk Topham was givin’ lip to?” Anse asked.
“Could be. Can’t say as how I’d like to find out the truth. Look here, Fenner, we’ve heard a lot about Captain Bayliss wantin’ to make trouble for Don Cazar. Does everybody believe that?”
“Everybody wot ain’t blind, deef, or outta their natural-born wits,” Fenner replied. “Bayliss come out here two years ago. ’Fore that, Major Kenny, he was in command between here an’ Tucson. Had him an outpost right on th’ edge o’ th’ Range. Him an’ Don Cazar, they never talked no war, ’cept ’gainst Apaches an’ th’ bandidos. Was there a raid, th’ major, he took out th’ troops; and Don Cazar, he took out his riders an’ th’ Pimas. ’Tween ’em they give everybody wot wanted a spot of trouble all they could chew off an’ a lot more’n they could swallow. Kept things quiet even if a man hadda rest his hand on his rifle ’bout twenty-four hours outta every day.
“But this here Bayliss—he’s been like a mule with a burr under his tail ever since he hit th’ territory. Wants to have th’ say ’bout everything—includin’ wot goes on at th’ Range—which he ain’t never goin’ t’ have as long as Don Cazar kin sit th’ saddle an’ ride. Back in ’62 when th’ Rebs came poundin’ in here, they spoke soft an’ nice to Don Cazar. They wanted him to back their play an’ see ’em straight on to Californy. He was from Texas an’ them Texas boys jus’ naturally thought as how he’d saddle up an’ ride right ’long wi’ ’em. Only he said it loud an’ clear—that such ruckusin’ round only meant th’ whole country here’d go to pot. When th’ army pulled out, th’ Apaches got it into their heads as how they finally licked us good an’ proper an’ this here was their country fur th’ takin’. Nearly was, too.
