Vigilante Law

by Dale Graham

  Nearing the homestead, he became aware of a campfire burning on the edge of the clearing. Men were sat round, shovelling grub down their gullets while staring hypnotically at the inferno they had created. They were laughing and joking, egged on by that skunk Rizzo.

  Secure in the knowledge that the occupant of the cabin had been incinerated, Steiger had not bothered to post a guard. As a result, it was easy for Ben to locate his own horse and coax it away quietly from the others with gentle whisperings of well-being.

  It was with a huge sigh of relief, mixed with heartache, that he walked the animal back into the secure blanket of darkness. Mounting up at a safe distance, he rode away, swearing to avenge the destruction of life and property reigned down on him by Web Steiger and his bunch of self-styled vigilantes.

  He headed off in the general direction taken by Gus Ordway. Soon, his head was drooping onto his chest as fatigue threatened to overcome him. The desperate climb up the chimney had taken its toll. Rest was needed urgently if he was not to fall out of the saddle. A small glade hidden from view within a clump of palo verde trees offered safety for what remained of the night. Luckily, his saddle pack had not been touched. In a daze, he wrapped himself in the bedroll and was asleep in moments. Only an earthquake would have brought him round.

  Dawn had come and gone. The sun was well above the horizon, beaming down on the comatose huddle lying in the open glade. It was a deer tugging at the saddle blanket that brought the sleeping figure back to life. The animal scampered away in fright. Ben was awake in moments, unsure where he was.

  Then it all came back, striking hard like a sucker punch in the guts. The battle, the fire, the sacrifice of his old friend. Not to mention the discovery of the hidden mine, and the final nightmare crawl to freedom up that twisting flue. But was he safe? Had those critters discovered Curly Bill’s remains? And what of Gus Ordway? Would he be in time to prevent another miscarriage of justice? Such questions flooded his turgid brain. But of answers there were none.

  He stumbled to his feet, grabbing the water bottle and tipping the contents over his head. A deep draught also helped to return him to something resembling normality, if that would ever be the same again. Packing up quickly, he was soon on the trail. An hour’s riding later and he spotted the turn-off where the wagon had left the main trail. This had to be the route Ordway had taken.

  Climbing steadily up into the foothills through dense stands of pine, it was late afternoon before he spotted a wagon heading towards him. Tightly strung nerves could now relax knowing he had found the guy. Another prayer of thanksgiving was despatched aloft.

  ‘Boy, am I glad to see you,’ he hollered when they finally met up.

  Ordway’s laggard brain was thrown into confusion. ‘What you doing out here, boss?’ he asked, hauling the team to a halt. But he was not so simple as to recognize all was not well at the Jaybird. ‘Some’n bad happened?’

  ‘Couldn’t be much worse, pal,’ Ben blurted out, struggling to contain his anguish. ‘Curly’s dead and the homestead has gone up in flames.’ Barely pausing to draw breath, he hurried on. All his suppressed anger gushed forth as he described the lurid details of the attack and its aftermath.

  ‘I ought never to have gone over the divide for them supplies,’ Gus berated himself, feeling guilty at having abandoned his new pals. ‘I should have been there fighting alongside of you.’

  Ben’s anger-tinged features softened as he laid a commiserating hand on the big man’s shoulder. ‘Don’t whip yourself, Gus. Nobody reckoned on Steiger getting there so fast. If’n anyone’s to blame, it has to be me for not taking the critter seriously enough.’

  Both men sunk into a torpid morass of gloom. Sat facing each other, each was cocooned in his own morbid thoughts. It was Ben who broke in on the despondent lassitude. ‘When the fire has burned itself out, those skunks will only find one body and they’ll think it’s me.’ A smile lacking any hint of levity drew warped furrows of vengeful bile that had even a tough hombre like Gus Ordway quaking in his boots. ‘And that’s gonna be our saving grace. I’m determined to scupper that no-account’s plan to take over this valley, or die in the trying.’

  One aspect of the recent debacle he made sure to keep firmly locked inside his head was the discovery of the hidden gold mine. He had only known Gus Ordway a short time. The fella seemed genuine enough, but there was no denying that he was a bullet short of a full chamber. A loose tongue in the wrong ear could lead to unwanted trouble. And he had enough of that on his plate already.

  Gus picked up on his pard’s resurrected optimism. ‘And I’ll be with you all the way, boss,’ he averred with vigorous intent. ‘So where to now?’

  ‘We need to get over to the Durham spread,’ was the brisk reply. ‘I have to make sure Elsa is OK. Steiger has given her notice to quit. And that could happen any day unless we work out some kind of plan to stall him.’

  Whipping up the horse-drawn wagon, Gus led the way across country. He knew of another less well-used trail that would avoid any likelihood of meeting up with the opposition. Part of the route took them through Rattlesnake Gulch. On this occasion there was no elation, no letting off steam at having thwarted the opposition. The full horror, the guilt at having failed his partner, now washed over Ben Chisum. He was relieved when they emerged on the far side.

  For the next hour they rode in silent contemplation. Ordway cast numerous pensive looks at his associate. Each time he tried to broach the subject of their future strategy, the grim regard held him back. Black eyebrows met in the middle of Ben’s forehead. Only a slight tic above his left eye indicated that the gunfighter’s brain was hard at work.

  Only when they were approaching the Durham homestead did Ben manage to cast off the lethargic melancholy that had stuck to him like glue. And the reason for his rejuvenation was the presence of two horses outside the cabin. They might well be merely friends visiting. There again, they could be messengers sent by Steiger to issue a final warning on the eviction.

  An innate caginess cultivated over the years made him hang back, and just in time as two hard-nosed jaspers emerged from the cabin. Ben recognized them as the pair he had questioned in Maverick when first trying to find Amos Durham.

  Laredo and his buddy Bug Pincher wandered over to where their horses were tethered. Laredo turned back. His hectoring tone carried back to the newcomers hidden behind the barn. ‘You make sure to be out of here by Sunday, lady, else the boss will be none too pleased.’

  ‘That’s only three days off. I need more time,’ she pleaded.

  ‘There’s been enough stalling already,’ rasped Laredo. ‘Sunday, or it’ll be the worse for you.’

  Elsa’s shoulders slumped in despair. Standing on the veranda, her dejected expression melted Ben’s heart and made him want to leap out and confront this odious pair of bullyboys. Gus Ordway instantly read his mind. A powerful hand gripped him tightly.

  ‘Don’t reckon that would be a smart move, boss,’ he whispered, anticipating his partner’s reckless intention astutely. ‘Secrecy is on our side. Let’s keep it that way. They still figure you’re dead and that Curly is the only one left. And by now they’ll likely figure he’s skipped the territory. If’n those two critters fail to report back, Steiger will be alerted to the fact that his plan has somehow gone wrong.’

  Ben struggled but was no match for the bruiser’s muscle power. But a newfound look of respect was aimed his way. ‘You’re one smart cookie, Gus. Guess I wasn’t thinking straight.’ The big man brightened under the unfamiliar acclaim. Only when the messengers had rode off did they emerge from hiding and hurry across to where Elsa was slumped in a chair on the porch.

  She quaked on hearing their approach. Only when she recognized Ben and Gus did she lurch to her feet. In a moment she was in his arms, tears streaming down her cheeks. ‘They said you were likely dead by now,’ the girl stuttered out, grateful that the awful news was clearly false. ‘And that Chico would be next.’

  ‘They were n
early right,’ Ben replied holding her close. ‘But the Jaybird has gone up in smoke and a pal who helped me out from the old days paid with his life.’ He extricated himself gingerly from Elsa’s fearful grasp. ‘I was wrong to figure on scotching Steiger’s plan on my ownsome.’

  ‘So it’s all over. Is that what you’re saying?’ The girl’s belligerent accusation was more of anger at Web Steiger than anyone else.

  ‘Not while I’m still drawing breath, it ain’t,’ he asserted firmly. ‘You’re well respected by all the homesteaders in the valley. Can you arrange a secret meeting of all those you can trust? I have a plan that might turn the tables on the skunk once and for all.’

  A fresh look of hope brought colour into the girl’s cheeks. ‘You really think we can beat him?’ A firm nod of accord saw her agreeing to his proposal avidly. ‘I’ll have Obediah Crawley spread the word among the others. We can all meet up in his quarters back of the blacksmith’s workshop.’

  ‘Sooner the better. I need to go find Chico. I have a special job that will suit him perfectly. So make it Saturday morning. Two days should give us enough time to get this shindig on the move.’

  ‘What part do I play in all this?’ Gus enquired.

  ‘The most important job of all.’ Ben’s face assumed an earnest look. ‘I need for you to stay with Elsa in case those critters come back and start making trouble for her. Think you can handle it?’

  The big guy squared his shoulders. ‘Anyone tries forcing their way in here will get a belly full of lead.’

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Baiting the Trap

  Ben rode all through the night and most of the next day to reach Del Rio, only stopping to snatch a few hours sleep. When he reached the sleepy town, his first call was at the office of the attorney who had prepared the deed of land ownership for the Jaybird. The man was loath to disclose where his client was staying.

  ‘I don’t know,’ the man declared somewhat reluctantly. ‘Mister Lafferty was adamant that his hiding place should remain secret until the trouble with the vigilantes has been settled.’

  But Ben was nothing if not persuasive, assuring the reticent official that contacting the homesteader was a matter of life and death. ‘I’m his partner, as designated on the agreement, and it’s vital that I speak with him. He sure won’t thank you for refusing to disclose his whereabouts when he eventually finds out what I have to tell him, and by then it will be too late.’

  After some more desultory hesitation, the lawyer finally agreed to the request. ‘You won’t regret it, Mister Harker,’ Ben assured the worried man after being given directions to the home of Lafferty’s cousin.

  Pedro Gonzalez lived in a small shack in the foothills above Del Rio where he ran a small chicken farm supplying eggs to the local townships. Without the detailed instructions supplied by the lawyer, he would never have found the place. Chico had chosen his hideout well.

  When the log cabin came into view, he paused. It sat in a hollow surrounded by trees and was virtually impossible to locate by the unwary. The only means of identifying its location was a splintered rock known as the Devil’s Knitting Needle. Riding straight in without any warning might well earned him a bullet from a man living on his nerves. He moved in as close as possible without revealing his presence. And there he waited impatiently for somebody to emerge.

  Ten minutes passed before the door opened, and a corpulent peon came out with a bucket and began tossing feed into the enclosure containing at least fifty hens. Ben waited for him to finish before edging closer and stepping out into the open. ‘Señor Gonzalez, don’t be afraid,’ he whispered urgently, holding his hands high. ‘I come in peace to see my partner, Chico.’

  The shock made the Mexican drop the bucket. His mouth hung open as he staggered back in terror. Ben quickly made to reassure the frightened man that he meant him no harm. ‘Chico said that if I ever needed to contact him, I should come here, and what I have to tell him is of the utmost importance. Is he still living here with you?’

  ‘It is all right, Pedro,’ a quiet voice announced from the doorway of the cabin. ‘This is the man who saved me from being lynched by Web Steiger and his gang. I owe him my life.’ His next remark was for the surprise visitor. ‘Something big must have happened to bring you all the way out here, Ben.’

  ‘Can we go inside, pard?’ he said as tiredness from his hectic journey and the recent gun battle suddenly claimed his shattered frame. He reeled drunkenly, eyes rolling up inside his head. ‘I’m plumb . . . tuckered out,’ he grunted, ‘and could sure use . . . a cup of strong coffee. I’ve rode all the way . . . from the Durham place.’

  Chico hurried forward, urging his cousin to help him get the exhausted man inside the cabin.

  How long Ben was out cold he could only guess at. When he finally surfaced, it was dark outside and he was splayed out on a grubby cot. The dim glow cast by a smoky oil lamp was the sole form of illumination inside the cabin.

  ‘H-how long have I b-been out?’ he stammered, bleary eyes trying to focus in the diffused light.

  Chico immediately helped his partner sit up. ‘A full twelve hours. You needed the rest. The body can only take so much, then it shuts down.’

  Ben struggled to get up, but Chico and his cousin held him back. ‘I need to be getting back to Uvalde,’ he pressed. ‘There’s gonna be a secret meeting I arranged to see what can be done to defeat Steiger.’

  ‘Not so fast, amigo,’ Chico cautioned, holding a cup containing a vile smelling concoction to Ben’s lips. ‘Drink this. It is a special family brew passed down through generations of our family. It will make you feel better.’

  Ben’s nose wrinkled. But he managed to down the nauseating concoction without vomiting. It tasted worse than it looked. But within minutes he could feel the energy flowing back into his wasted muscles. ‘Boy, you ain’t wrong there, Chico. That stuff sure packs a punch.’

  ‘You still need to rest a couple more hours to allow it to work properly,’ Chico advised. ‘In the meantime, how about you tell why you sought me out?’

  Before Ben could launch into his macabre tale, Pedro stuck a bowl of chicken broth in front of him. ‘A man needs to keep his strength up when he has dealt with death and destruction like you have, señor.’ The farmer’s shrewd counsel elicited a nod of approval from his cousin, who pushed a hunk of bread into his hand.

  ‘Pedro is right,’ Chico concurred. ‘No man can keep going on empty stomach for too long. Eat up, is very good.’

  Although it looked no better than the elixir, Ben shrugged and proceeded to empty the bowl. He soon wolfed it down, offering no complaint. Indeed, it was the best and only meal he had eaten since first leaving Elsa Durham, which now seemed like the distant past. The bacon and beans in the old cabin didn’t count.

  With his strength returning rapidly, Ben proceeded to relate the full horror of what had occurred at the Jaybird in all its gory detail. A glint of understanding appeared in the half-breed’s eyes when the discovery of gold on his land was revealed. But it was not the avaricious leer that affected most hombres after discovering they have struck it rich.

  Chico was more concerned about the burning out of his property and the death of Curly Bill Redleg. ‘So, now it becomes clear why that skunk wanted Jaybird land. He must have uncovered an entrance to the mine on the far side of the mountain and followed it through.’ He stood up and walked over to a black pot simmering on a stove and poured himself a cup of coffee.

  After a few minutes concentrated assimilation of this unsettling news, he turned back, having come to a decision. ‘I’m getting too long in the tooth to be bothered with all the riches gold can buy,’ he declared firmly, yet with measured circumspection. ‘If’n we come out of this fracas on the winning side, I want to do some good with it. Turn the valley into a thriving settlement, a place for folks to live in peace. Steiger has driven a lot of good people out. Greed has been at the heart of all his weasel words about bringing law to the territory.’

&n
bsp; His eyes rested on his associate, issuing a challenge to dispute his altruistic objective. ‘So, what is your view, Ben Chisum?’

  Ben had been considering his reply and now carefully delivered his verdict. ‘At one time, I’d have been glassy-eyed at the life of luxury stretching out before me if’n a gold mine had landed in my lap. But having gotten myself caught up in this range war, I’m with you all the way, pal. The Nueces could become a guiding light for other parts of Texas to follow.’

  Then his pragmatic nature took back control. There was still the thorny business of defeating Web Steiger’s grasping ambition. ‘But first, I need to get back to Uvalde before that meeting gets underway. The skunk will have concluded by now that Curly won’t be coming back. Our secret ingredient is that he’ll also have figured it’s my charred body found in the burnt-out wreckage of the cabin.’

  Chico couldn’t resist a morbid chuckle of delight. ‘He sure is gonna receive one almighty surprise and no mistake when he discovers the truth.’

  ‘I’d love to see his face when the truth dawns. First, though, I need you to do something while I’m gone. Then you can come and join in the fun.’

  Ben then went on to explain what he had in mind. Having explained his plan for Chico to carry out, he set off back for Uvalde. Pedro supplied him with some chicken sandwiches to stave off any pangs of hunger during the journey. Ben was mightily touched by the peon’s thoughtfulness. He squeezed his shoulder. ‘I’m gonna make it my business to see you set up with a proper spread to expand this enterprise once we’ve rid the valley of its vermin.’

  He spurred off into the half-light of the false dawn, firm in his belief that he had done right in sticking with these homespun folk. But only time would tell if’n it was a wise decision. Thinking about Elsa Durham only served to confirm his belief that the Nueces Valley was where he wanted to finally settle down. And if’n that meant tending crops and milking cows, then so be it. With the girl of his dreams to keep him warm on cold nights, what more could a retired gunfighter want from life?