It was Canaval. “Better ride,” he said. “I wouldn’t put i t past Park to drygulch a man.”
“Canaval!’ Olga protested. “How can you say that?”
His slow eyes, turned to her. “You think so too, ma’am.
You always was an uncommon smart girl. You’ve known hi m for what he was for a mighty long time.” He turned back t o me. “Mean what you said back there? About peace and all?”
“You bet I did. What can we gain by fighting?”
“You’re right,” Canaval agreed; “but there’ll be bloodshed before it’s over. Pinder won’t quit. He hated Ru d Maclaren, and now he hates you. He won’t back up or quit.”
Canaval turned to Olga. “Let me talk to Sabre alone, wil l you? There’s something he should know.”
“All right.” She gave me her hand. “Be careful. An d goodnight.’
We watched her walk back up the path, and when m y eyes turned back to him, his were surprisingly soft. I coul d see his expression even in the moonlight. “Reminds me o f her mother,” he said quietly.
“You knew her?” I was surprised.
“She was my sister.”
That was something I could never have guessed. “Sh e doesn’t know,” he explained. “Rud and I used to ride together. I was too fast with a gun and killed a man with to o many relatives. I left and Rud married my sister. From tim e to time we wrote, and when Rud was having trouble wit h rustlers, I came out to lend a hand. He persuaded me t o stay.
He looked around at me. “One thing more. What di d you mean about the Slades?”
So I told him in detail of my trip to Silver Reef, th e killing of Lyell and the conversation I’d overheard betwee n Park and Booker. Where I had heard the conversation I di d not tell him. I only said there was some deal between the tw o of them that depended upon results to be obtained by Morgan Park.
It was after midnight when I finally left the Bar M, turning off the main trail and cutting across country for th e head of Gypsum Canyon.
Mulvaney was waiting for me. “Knowed the horse’s walk,” h e explained. Nodding toward the hills, he added. ”Too quie t out there.”
The night was clear, wide, and peaceful. Later durin g the night, I awakened with a start, the sound of a shot ringin g in my ears. Mulvaney was sleeping soundly, so I did no t disturb him. Afterward, all was quiet, so I dropped off t o sleep once more.
In the morning I mentioned it to Mulvaney.
“Did you get up?” he asked.
“Yeah. Went out in the yard and listened, but hear d nothing more. Could have been a hunter. Maybe one of th e Benaras boys.”
Two hours later I knew better. Riding past Maveric k Spring I saw a riderless horse grazing near a dark bundle tha t lay on the grass. The dark bundle was Rud Maclaren, and h e was dead.
He had been shot twice from behind, both shots throug h the head.
He was sprawled on his face, both hands above his head , one knee drawn up. Both guns were in their holsters, and hi s belt gun was tied down. After one look I stood back and fire d three shots as a signal to Mulvaney.
When he saw Maclaren, his face went white and h e looked up. “You shouldn’t have done it, boy. The countr y hated him but they respected him, too. They’ll hang a ma n for this!”
“Don’t be foolish!” I was irritated, but appalled, too. “I d idn’t do this! Feel of him! It must have been that shot I h eard last night.”
“He’s cold, all right. This’ll blow the lid off, Matt. You’d best rig a story for them. And it had better be good!”
“No rigging. Ill tell the truth.”
“They’ll hang you, Matt. They’ll never believe you didn’t do it.” He waved a hand around. “He’s on your place. Th e two of you have been feudin’. They’ll say you shot him in th e back.”
Standing over the body with the words of Mulvaney i n my ears, I could see with piercing clarity the situation I wa s in. What could he have been doing here? Why would h e come to my ranch in the middle of the night?
I could see their accusing eyes when the death wa s reported, the shock to Olga, the reaction of the people, th e accusations of Park. Somebody wanted Maclaren dead enoug h to shoot him in the back. Who?
Chapter 8
Strangely, the morning was cool with a hint of rain. Mulvaney , at my request, had gone to the Bar M to tell Canaval of th e killing, and it was up to Canaval to tell Olga. I did not like t o think of that. My luck held in one sense, for Jolly Benara s came riding up the wash, and I asked him to ride to Hattan’s to report to Key Chapin.
Covering the body with a tarp, I mounted and began t o scout the area. How much time I had, I did not know, but i t could not be much. Soon they would be arriving from Hattan’s , and even sooner from the Bar M. One thing puzzled me.
There had been but one shot fired, but there were two bulle t holes in Maclaren’s skull.
Carefully, I examined the sand under the body . And was struck by a curious thing. There was no blood! None on th e sand, that is. There was plenty of blood on Rud himself, bu t all of it, strangely enough, seemed to come from one bulle t hole!
* There was a confusion of tracks where his horse ha d moved about while he lay there on the ground, but at thi s point the wash was sandy, and no definite track could b e distinguished. Then horses’ hoofs sounded, and I looked u p to see five riders coming toward me. The nearest was Canaval , and beside him, Olga. The others were all Bar M riders, an d from one glance at their faces I knew there was no doubt i n their minds and little reason for speculation that I had kille d Rud Maclaren.
Canaval drew up, and his eyes pierced mine, cold, calculating, and shrewd. Olga threw herself from her horse an d ran to the still form on the ground. She had refused to mee t my eyes or to notice me.
“This looks bad, Canaval. When did he leave the ranch?”
He studied me carefully, as if he were seeing me for th e first time. “I don’t know, exactly,” he said. “No one hear d him go. He must have pulled out sometime after two thi s morning.”
“The shot I heard was close to four.”
“One shot?”
“Only one—but he’s been shot twice.” Hesitating a little, I asked, “Who was with him when you last saw him?”
“He was alone. If it’s Morgan Park, you are thinkin’ of , forget it. He left right after you did. When I last saw Rud h e was goin’ to his room, feelin mighty sleepy.”
The Bar M riders were circling around. Their faces wer e cold, and they started an icy chill coming up my spine. Thes e men were utterly loyal, utterly ruthless when aroused. Th e night before, they had given me the benefit of the doubt, bu t now they saw no reason to think of any other solution but th e obvious one.
Tom Fox, a lean, hard-bitten Bar M man, was staring a t me. Coolly, he took a rope from his pommel. “What w e waitin’ for, men?” he asked bitterly, “There’s our man.”
Turning, I said, “Fox, from what I hear you’re a goo d man and a good hand. Don’t jump to any hasty conclusions. I d idn’t kill Rud Maclaren and had no reason to. We mad e peace talk last night an’ parted in good spirits.”
Fox looked up at Canaval. “That right?”
Canaval hesitated, his expression unchanging. Then h e spoke clearly. “It is—but Rud Maclaren changed his min d afterward!”
“Changed his mind?” That I couldn’t believe, yet at th e expression in Canaval’s eyes, I knew he was speaking th e truth. “Even so,” I added, “how could I be expected to kno w that? When I left, all was friendly.”
“You couldn’t know it,” Canaval agreed, “unless he go t out of bed an’ came to tell you. He might have done that, an d I can think of no other reason for him to come here. He cam e to tell you—an’ you killed him when he started away.”
The hands growled and Fox shook out a loop. It wa s Olga who stopped them. “No! Wait until the others arrive. I f he killed my father, I want him to die! But wait until th e others come!”
Reluctantly, Fox drew in h
is rope and coiled it. Swea t broke out on my forehead. I could fight, and I would if i t came to that, but these men only believed they were doin g the right thing. They had no idea that I was innocent. My mouth was dry and my hands felt cold. I tried to catch Olga’s eye but she ignored me. Canaval seemed studying abou t something, but he did not speak a word.
The first one to arrive was Key Chapin, and behind hi m a dozen other men. He looked at me, a quick, worrie d glance, and then looked at Canaval. Without waiting fo r questions, the foreman quietly repeated what had happened , telling of the entire evening, facts that could not until the n have been known to the men.
“There’s one thing,” I said suddenly, “that I want to cal l to your attention.”
They looked at me, but there was not a friendly eye i n the lot of them. Looking around the circle of their faces, I fel t a cold sinking in my stomach, -and a feeling came over me.
Matt Sabre, I was telling myself, this is the end. You’ve com e to it at last, and you’ll hang for another man’s crime.
Not one friendly face—and Mulvaney had not returne d with the Bar M riders. There was no sign of Jolly Benaras.
“Chapin,” I asked, “will you turn Maclaren over?”
The request puzzled him, and they looked from me t o the covered body and then to Chapin. He swung down an d walked across to the dead man. I heard Olga’s breath catch , and then Chapin rolled Maclaren on his back.
He straightened up then, still puzzled. The others looke d blankly at me.
“The reason you are so quick to accuse me is that he i s here, on my ranch. Well, he was not killed here. There’s n o blood on the ground!”
Startled, they all looked. Before any comment could b e made, I continued. “One of the wounds bled badly, and th e front of his shirt is dark with blood. The sand would be too, i f he’d been killed here. What I am saying is that he was kille d elsewhere and then carried here!”
“But why?” Chapin protested.
Canaval said, “You mean to throw guilt onto you?”
“I sure do mean that! Also, that shot I heard fired wa s shot into him after he was dead!”
Fox shook his head, and sneered. “How could you figur e that?”
“A dead man does not bleed. Look at him! All the bloo d came from one wound!”
Suddenly we heard more horsemen, and Mulvaney returned with his guns and the Benaras boys. Not one, but al l of them.
Coolly, they moved up to the edge of the circle.
“We’d be beholden,” the older Benaras said loudly, i f you’d all move back. We’re friends to Sabre, an’ we don’t believe he done it. Now give him air an’ listen.”
They hesitated, not liking it. But their common sens e told them that if trouble started now it would be a blood y mess. Carefully, the nearest riders eased back. Whether Olg a was listening, I had no idea. Yet it was she whom I wante d most to convince.
“There are other men with axes to grind beside th e Pinders and I,” I said. “What had Ito fear from Rud? Alread y I had shown I could take care of myself against all of them.
Face to face, I was twice the man Rud was.”
“You talk yourself up mighty well,” Fox said.
“You had your chance in the canyon,” I said brutally , “and when I say I can hold this ranch, you know I’m no t lying.”
Horses came up the trail, and the first faces I recognize d were Bodie Miller and the redhead I’d whipped at the Tw o Bar. Bodie pushed his horse into the circle when he saw me.
The devil was riding Bodie again, and I could see fro m Canaval’s face that he knew it.
Right at the moment, Bodie was remembering how I ha d dared him to gamble at point-blank range. “You, is it?” h e said. “I’ll kill you one day.”
“Keep out of this, Bodie!” Canaval ordered sharply.
Miller’s dislike was naked in his eyes. “Bud’s dead now,” h e said. “Maybe you won’t be the boss anymore. Mayb e shell want a younger man for boss!”
The import of his words was like a blow across the face.
Suddenly I wanted to kill him, suddenly I was going to.
Canaval’s voice was a cool breath of air through my fevere d brain. “That will be for Miss Olga to decide.” He turned t o her. “Do you wish me to continue as foreman?”
“Naturally!” Her voice was cold and even, and in tha t moment I was proud of her. “And your first job will be to fir e Bodie Miller!”
Miller’s face went white with fury, and his lips bare d back from his teeth. Before he could speak, I interfered. “Don’ s ay it, Bodie! Don’t say it!” I stepped forward to face hi m across Maclaren’s body.
The malignancy of his expression was unbelievable. “Yo u an’ me are goin’ to meet,” he said, staring at me.
“When you’re ready, Bodie.” Deliberately, not wantin g the fight here, now, I turned my back on him.
Chapin and Canaval joined me while the men loaded th e body into a buckboard. “We don’t think you’re guilty, Sabre.
Have you any ideas?”
“Only that I believe he was killed elsewhere and carrie d here to cast blame on me. I don’t believe it was Pinder. He would never-shoot Maclaren in the back.”
“You think Park did it?” Canaval demanded.
“Peace between myself and Maclaren would be the las t thing he’d want,” I said.
Bob Benaras was waiting for me. “You can use Jonatha n an’ Jolly,” he said. “I ain’t got work enough to keep ‘em out o f mischief.”
He was not fooling me in the least. “Thanks. I can us e them to spell Mulvaney on lookout, and there’s plenty o f work to do.”
For two weeks we worked hard, and the inquest of Ru d Maclaren turned up nothing new. There had been no will, s o the ranch went to Olga. Yet nothing was settled. Some people believed I had killed Maclaren, most of them did no t know, but the country was quiet.
Of Bodie Miller we heard much. He killed a man a t Hattan’s in a saloon quarrel, shot him before he could get hi s hand on a gun. Bodie and Red were riding with a lot of riffraf f from Hite. The Bar M was missing cattle, and Bodie laughe d when he heard it. He pistol-whipped a man in Silver Ree f and wounded a man while driving off the posse that cam e after him.
I worried more about Morgan Park. I had to discove r just what his plan was. My only chance was to follow Par k every hour of the day and night. I must know where he went , what he was doing, with whom he was talking. One night I w aited on a hill above Hattan’s watching the house where h e lived when in town.
When he came out of the house I could feel the hackle s rising on the back of my neck. There was something abou t him that would always stir me to fury, and it did now. Stiflin g it, I watched him go to Mother O’Hara’s, watched him moun t up and ride out of town on the Bar M road. Yet scarcely a dozen miles from town he drew up and scanned his hac k trail. Safely under cover, I watched him. Apparently satisfie d with what he did not see, he turned right along the ridge , keeping under cover. He now took a course that led him int o the wildest and most remote corner of the Bar M, that nec k of land north of my own and extending far west. His trail le d him out upon Dark Canyon Plateau. Knowing little of thi s area, I closed the distance between us until I saw him makin g camp.
Before daylight, he was moving again. The sun rose an d the clay became hot, with a film of heat haze obscuring all th e horizons. He seemed headed toward the northwest wher e the long line of the Sweet Alice Hills ended the visible world.
This country was a maze of canyons. To the south it fell awa y in an almost sheer precipice for hundreds of feet to th e bottom of Dark Canyon. There were trails off the plateau, bu t I knew none of them.
The view was breathtaking, overlooking miles of columned and whorled sandstone, towering escarpments, minarets, and upended ledges. This had once been inhabite d country, for there were ruins of cliff dwellings about, an d Indian writings.
The trail divided at the east end of the plateau, and th e flat rock gave
no indication of which fork Park had taken. I t looked as though I had lost him. Taking a chance, I wen t down a steep slide into Poison Canyon and worked back i n the direction he must have taken, but the only tracks were o f rodents and one of a bighorn sheep. Hearing a sound o f singing, I dismounted. Rifle in hand, I worked my way throug h the rocks and brush.
“I use to shave,” the man at the fire said. “We’re stuc k here. No chance to get to Hattan’s now.”
-Yeah?” The shaver scoffed. “You see that big feller?
Him an’ Slade are talking medicine. We’ll move out soon. I d on’t want to get caught with no beard when I go to town.”
-Who’ll care how you look? An’ maybe the fewer wh o know how you look, the better.”
-After this show busts open,” the shaver replied, -it ain’t gold to matter who knows me! We’ll have that town sewe d up tighter than a drum!”
“Maybe.” The cook straightened and rubbed his hack.
-Again, maybe not. I wish it was rustlin’ cows. Takin’ town s can he mighty mean.-
“It ain’t the town, just a couple of ranches. Only three , four men on the Two Bar, an’ about the same on the Bar M.
Slade will have the toughest job done afore we start.”
-That big feller looks man enough to do it by himself.
But if he can pay, his money will look good to me.-
“He better watch his step. That Sabre ain’t no chicke n with a pair of Colts. He downed Rollie Pinder, an’ I figure i t was him done for Lyell over to the Reef.”
“It’ll be somethin’ when he an’ Bodie get together. Bot h faster than greased lightnin’.”
“Sabre won’t be around. Pinder figures on raidin’ tha t spread today. Sam wouldn’t help him because he’d promise d Park. Pinder’ll hit ‘em about sundown, an’ that’ll be the en d of Sabre.”
Waiting no longer, I hurried back to my horse. If Pinde r was to attack the Two Bar, Park would have to wait. Glancin g at the sun, fear rose in my throat. It would be nip and tuck if I w as to get back. Another idea came to me. I would rely o n Mulvaney and the Benaras boys to protect the Two Bi:tr. I w ould counterattack and hit the CP!
Riders Of the Dawn (1980) Page 7
