Bounty of Greed

by Paul Colt

  Evans’ jaw muscles bunched. “Double the price and you don’t even touch the stuff. It’s robbery I tell you, nothin’ but black-hearted robbery.”

  “It’s business, Mr. Evans. If you don’t like my price, you’re more than free to obtain your feed elsewhere.”

  “You know damn good and well you bought up all the feed in the county. You double your money and ranchers like me, haul it away for you.”

  Tunstall smiled. “Lovely little business, don’t you think, Mr. Evans? Nearly as lucrative as rustling, but that of course is robbery.”

  Evans glared. Not now. Not yet.

  Santa Fe

  The US attorney for New Mexico Territory, T. B. Catron, scanned Dolan’s letter by the light of a desk lamp. The dim light of late winter afternoon filled the corners of his spare office with shadows. Darkly handsome with lively brown eyes, Catron had lean, hawk-like features. His lanky frame folded in his desk chair as though confined to enforced inactivity. Ordinarily this sort of thing wouldn’t merit his attention. He’d pass the request to an underling or disregard it altogether. In the case of Jimmy Dolan he knew better. Dolan had strong connections to Governor Axtell and even more importantly to the real power in the territory, Stephen Elkins. The Santa Fe Ring took care of its own. A debtor’s lien on the livestock of an immigrant nobody ever heard of was a simple matter. No need to bother the higher-ups as long as he took care of it. If Dolan didn’t get what he wanted, he’d go up the line and before you knew it, the damn thing would roll back downhill with a full head of steam. Who needed headaches like that for some no-account named Tunstall?

  Lincoln

  Ty lost a day to the storm getting back to town. The storm cleared out leaving the air sharp and bitter. The steeldust kicked up glittering puffs of snow as it jogged into a sun-washed Lincoln. He spotted Widenmann’s horse at the Wortley hitch rack and checked his stomach, time for lunch. He wheeled his horse to the rail and swung down. Inside, the Wortley dining felt warm and smelled of fresh baked biscuits. Widenmann sat at a corner table. He glanced up and smiled.

  “Grab a chair. The beef stew’s hot and tasty.”

  “That sounds mighty good.” He waved to the waiter. “I’ll have some of that stew and coffee.”

  “Anything new over at Fort Stanton?”

  “Just snow. Anything new around here?” The waiter arrived with a steaming bowl of stew and a cup of hot coffee before Widenmann could answer. “That looks damn good. I might just stick my fingers and toes in it till I can feel ’em again.” He picked up his spoon. Widenmann picked up the conversation.

  “Somebody hit the Flying H for fifty head of horses a few days ago.”

  Ty stopped a spoonful of stew halfway to his mouth. “That explains it.”

  “Explains what?”

  “While I was at the fort, Jesse Evans and his boys come in with a herd of horses the army was lookin’ to buy. Struck me as odd. I never knew Evans to deal in horses. Must have been near fifty head as I think about it.”

  “Sounds like too much to credit coincidence, don’t you think?”

  “Way too much where Evans is concerned. I was with the colonel when he checked ’em out. No brands, so anything we got is circumstantial.”

  “Still, it’d be worth reporting to Sheriff Brady. He’s got an outstanding complaint from Tunstall.”

  “A lot of good that will do.”

  “Think of it as entertainment. Will Brady ride down to Seven Rivers to check it out or not?”

  “You couldn’t find anybody fool enough to take that bet.”

  “We know Brady’s in Dolan’s pocket. Evans is just speculation. If Brady don’t check out the lead, it’s one more brick on the side of Evans and Dolan bein’ in cahoots.”

  “How many bricks you figure you need to prove the obvious?”

  A draft of cold air from the office door announced visitors. Brady rocked back to a groan from his barrel-backed desk chair. Widenmann filled the door followed by Ledger. Now what?“Afternoon, Marshal. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “Afternoon, Sheriff. Deputy Ledger has something for you on the Flying H horse theft.”

  “I see. Well, let’s hear it, Ledger.”

  “I saw a herd of about the size reported stolen bein’ delivered for sale at Fort Stanton two days ago.”

  “What makes you think those horses belong to the Flying H herd?”

  “Fifty head is a good-sized herd. It don’t hide easy. It’d be a lot to put down to coincidence, don’t you think? It’s at least worth askin’ the man who brought ’em in where he came by ’em.”

  “And who might that be?”

  “Jesse Evans.”

  Brady furrowed bushy brows. He shrugged. “Chasing all the way down to Seven Rivers in the dead of winter over a range herd of mustangs don’t make no sense. Besides, we already got the Flying H rustler in custody.”

  Widenmann raised his brows. “Really? And who might that be?”

  “He goes by the name William Bonney these days, though we got a witness who knows him as Henry Antrim from his horse thievin’ days up to Silver City.”

  “You have a witness to the Flying H theft?”

  “No, I said we got a witness that knows him for a horse thief.”

  William Bonney,Ty remembered the good-humored young man he’d met on the street. “You mind if we have a word with the suspect?”

  “Be my guest. He’ll deny it, but that’s for a court to decide. He’s back in cell two. You’ll have to leave your weapons here.” Brady rose and crossed the office to the jail door. “You got visitors, Bonney.”

  Ty and Widenmann dropped their gun belts on the desk and crossed the office.

  Widenmann lowered his voice as they stepped inside the small cell block. “What do you hope to gain by talking to the suspect?”

  “The truth.”

  “What makes you think he’ll tell the truth.”

  “I’ve met the young man. I want to look him in the eye and ask him if he did it.”

  “Marshal Ledger, isn’t it?” The kid blinked.

  “It is, William. This here’s Marshal Widenmann.”

  “Pleased to meet you.” He gapped a smile at Widenmann and turned to Ty. “Marshal, I don’t give a damn what the sheriff or that deputy Mathews says, I didn’t steal no horses. Hell, all I done was ride into their campfire lookin’ for a cup of coffee. Next thing you know I’m locked up on the say-so of that deputy.”

  “I believe you, William. We think we know who stole those

  horses.”

  “Then you think you can get me out of here?”

  “We’ll try.”

  Ty and Widenmann jogged their horses down the street to Tunstall’s store as the late afternoon sun beat a hasty retreat into the mountains west of town. Whatever feeling of warmth the day might have offered disappeared quickly with the arrival of evening.

  “You’re sure about him?” Widenmann’s words hung in steam. A light white frost tipped his mustache.

  “The kid is tellin’ the truth, Rob. You don’t run off fifty head of horses single-handed. Evans had three men helpin’ him with that herd.”

  “Seems like you’re basin’ a lot on circumstances.”

  Ty cut his eyes to the marshal. “Where there’s that much smoke, somethin’s burnin’. Evans is guilty sure as I’m standin’ here.”

  “I don’t know how you’re gonna prove anything, but I’ll talk to Tunstall.” They drew rein in front of the store and stepped down, just as Lucy came out bundled in her shawl for the walk home.”

  “Marshal, Ty.” She smiled.

  Widenmann tipped his hat. “Miss Lucy.”

  “You go along, Rob. I’d like to walk Lucy home. I’ll meet you later for supper.”

  He gave Ty a knowing nod and crossed the boardwalk to the greeting of the visitor bell.

  “Mind if I walk you home?”

  She hesitated a moment and smiled. “Kind of like old times.” She started down the walk. He trail
ed along in the street, lead ing the steeldust.

  “How is the store doing?”

  She tilted her chin with a half smile. “Business couldn’t be better. Murphy and Dolan really did have a stranglehold on this county. John has changed that. People come to the store to shop at better prices. Then they trust their money to the bank. The bank and the store get stronger together.”

  “How much longer does he think Dolan will take all this lying down?”

  She knit her brows in thought. “John doesn’t believe Dolan can do anything about it. He could lower his prices, but it wouldn’t make that much difference. People resent him for all the years he and Murphy took advantage of them.”

  “Tunstall is wrong about that.”

  “About people resenting Dolan?”

  “No. About Dolan not being able to do anything to stop him.”

  She took his warning with a worried set to her jaw as they reached the widow O’Hara’s front gate. She tugged her shawl tight around her shoulders. “It’s cold, Ty. Would you like to come in?”

  “Would you like me to?”

  Her eyes found his. “Yes, yes I’d like that.”

  Ty looped the steeldust’s rein over the picket fence and opened the gate to a familiar squeal. He followed Lucy up the walk to the green door. She let them inside and hung her shawl on a peg by the door. She took Ty’s hat and hung it on the peg over her shawl.

  “Lucy, dear,” Mrs. O’Hara called from the kitchen. “Dinner won’t be ready for a few minutes.” She appeared in the dimly lit hallway. “Oh, Marshal Ledger.” She smiled. “So nice to see you again. It’s been ever so long. Will you be staying for supper?”

  “No, thank you, Mrs. O’Hara. I have to meet Marshal Wid enmann.”

  “Perhaps another time then.”

  She still liked him. He could tell.

  “Do come in and sit for a minute.” Lucy led the way to the parlor. She took her place on the settee. Ty took a seat beside her.

  “Thanks for walking me home.”

  He folded his hands in his lap. “I wanted to talk to you. I think Tunstall underestimates Dolan. The situation is dangerous. I don’t want to see you get caught in the middle of that kind of trouble.”

  “A girl’s got to take care of herself.”

  “She—” he started to object. “Look, it’s not my place. Trouble is coming. I can smell it. I can’t help but worry.”

  Her eyes softened. The old connection was still there. She felt it.

  He met her eyes and felt it too.

  “It’s sweet of you to care.”

  He looked away suddenly uncomfortable with what more to say. He felt that special something. He didn’t trust himself with it. “You probably don’t even carry that pepperbox anymore.”

  She smiled, a wistful warmth in her eye.

  “I best be goin’.” He rose.

  Lucy followed him to the parlor and retrieved his hat from the peg. “Thanks for walking me home, Ty. And thanks again for caring.” She pulled herself up on her toes and kissed his cheek.

  The air between them grew soft and warm. He touched her cheek, and let himself out into the cold.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Tunstall sat behind the counter balancing the bank ledger for the day’s transactions. He set his pencil aside at the sound of the visitor’s bell. He greeted Widenmann with a smile.

  “Good evening, Rob. We were just closing up. Is there something you need?”

  “Just stopped by for a talk.”

  “Always good to see you for that. What’s on your mind?”

  “Ty got back from Fort Stanton this afternoon. Jesse Evans delivered fifty head of horses there two days ago.”

  “My horses. That would explain where he got the money to pay for his winter feed. The scoundrel bought the feed with the proceeds from the sale of my stolen property.” He shucked his apron. “We must notify Sheriff Brady at once.”

  “We already did. Brady’s got a man in jail charged with stealin’ your herd.”

  “Then it would appear he has the wrong man. He should release him straight away and go after Evans.”

  “That’s not likely to happen, John. Evans is Dolan’s man and so is Brady.”

  “You can’t possibly mean the sheriff would permit such a miscarriage of justice.”

  “That’s exactly what I mean.”

  “Well we shall see about that. I’ve made my intentions quite clear to the sheriff. If he fails to do his duty in the recovery of my horses, I shall be forced to expose him to every newspaper in the territory.”

  “Dolan wouldn’t like that. Dolan’s friends in Santa Fe wouldn’t like it, either. You’re already a burr under Dolan’s saddle, John, what with the store and the bank. You haven’t made any friends with the small ranchers, either, over your feed business. It won’t take much encouragement for Dolan or one of his friends to decide you’ve become a problem that needs takin’ care of.”

  “Are you implying Dolan might resort to violence?”

  “I’m not implyin’. I’m promisin’.”

  “I’ve done nothing illegal. Dolan isn’t free to violate the law at his whim and pleasure.”

  “Dolan is the law in Lincoln County.”

  “So what’s to be done about it?”

  “You didn’t hear this from me, but if I was you, I’d have Brewer and your boys ride down to Seven Rivers to see what they can find out.”

  “Take the law into our own hands, you mean. I don’t like the sound of that. It makes us no better than Dolan. Perhaps you could deputize my men. At that, we’d be carrying out the law, where the sheriff refuses.”

  He smoothed his mustache. “I suppose I could do that. We’d have to come up with some reason to raise a posse under federal jurisdiction.”

  “Splendid. Then we’ve only to go down to that jail and obtain the release of that innocent man.”

  Ty walked me home from the store again tonight. He warned me about John underestimating Dolan. He’s right, of course. He says he doesn’t want to see me caught in the middle of that kind of trouble. I think he means it. I asked him in. He asked me if I meant it. I did. He didn’t stay long, but it was long enough for one thing. That old something, it’s still there. I kissed him good-bye. I probably shouldn’thave, but I did. Wish I knew what to make of this.

  She set her pen aside and blew on the page. She closed the journal and stretched. Her chair scraped back. Her silhouette bent to huff out the lamp. She felt her way to the bed. The springs gave a comforting groan. She stared into the darkness. He appeared, tall and rugged. She felt his strength and something more. The vision faded.

  John. He had that suave manner, so certain, yet so unaware in so many ways. He wore his feelings on the sleeve of a brown coat. Could a man like that beat Jimmy Dolan? He thought so. Ty doubted it. She doubted it. Mrs. O’Hara doubted it first. He had John Chisum’s support. What did that really count for? South Spring was a long way off. Still she had a decent job and the prospect of more financial security than she might ever have imagined. What was a girl to do?

  Ty . . . she drifted off to sleep.

  Morning sun rode high in a bright blue sky with enough warmth to thaw street ruts to a sticky slur. The air smelled of mud and horse droppings, making a hint of spring out of the familiar scent of snow. Tunstall crossed the street to the sheriff’s office ankle deep in the sucking sounds of false promise. He climbed the steps, anxious to be about his business and get back to the store.

  Sheriff Brady blinked behind smudged spectacles, his immediate reaction irritation. “Good morning, Tunstall. What’s on your mind?”

  “I understand you are holding a suspect in the matter of my stolen horses.”

  Brady nodded.

  “I’d like to see the prisoner.”

  “I can’t imagine what for.”

  “They are my horses, Sheriff.”

  “Suit yourself. Follow me.” He rose, took the keys from a peg beside the door and led the way into th
e jail. Gray light spilled out of two small windows, barely banishing night chill on solid adobe walls. They found the kid lying on his bunk, wrapped in a thin blanket, staring at the ceiling.

  “There he is, Tunstall. Calls himself William Bonney, though there’s some dispute about the claim.”

  “I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Bonney.”

  “Pleasure to meet a horse thief, you do beat all, Englishman. I don’t suppose you have any need to get in there with him.”

  “Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Let yourself out then when you’re done.” He ambled back to the office, his boot heels clicking the floorboards, keys jangling softly.

  The kid sat up on the bunk. “Mr. Tunstall, what brings you to see me?”

  “Very direct, I like that. The horses you are accused of stealing are mine. I want to know what became of them.”

  “I already told the sheriff. I have no idea. I didn’t steal your horses or anybody else’s. I rode into the sheriff’s cook fire lookin’ for a cup of coffee. Deputy Mathews claims to know me from Silver City. He accused me of stealin’ your horses on account of that. So they arrested me. I didn’t do it, Mr. Tunstall. I swear I didn’t. Besides ain’t no man alive can herd fifty head of horses to no useful purpose by his-self. Run ’em off maybe, but that’s about it.”

  Tunstall pursed his lips and nodded. “I may not be an accomplished horseman, but I see the logic in that. I believe you, William.”

  The kid’s jaw dropped. “You do?”

  “I do. Now we shall see what is to be done about getting you out of here.”

  Footfalls announced Tunstall as he strode purposefully into Brady’s office. “Sheriff, I insist you release that young man at once.”

  “What?”

  “He is clearly innocent of the charges you have placed against him.”

  “What?”

  “You’ve made no attempt to investigate a most incriminating set of circumstances surrounding the recent delivery of a herd of horses to Fort Stanton.”