All the men looked at Sequoia, whose age was a mystery to them. The breed outrode them all, never seemed to get tired, and could have been forty or sixty.
“Everybody turn in early,” Seaforth commanded. “Tomorrow’s gonna be a big day.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
When Seaforth Bailey spotted the herd it was easy to see that Sequoia had been right on all counts. It looked to be five or six hundred head, and including the man on the chuckwagon, there was a crew of seven.
Sequoia had spotted the herd first, riding ahead of the rest of the raiders. When he rode back to fetch Seaforth they both rode on ahead, leaving the other ten men behind so the dozen raiders wouldn’t attract attention.
Sequoia didn’t bother pointing, since the herd was spread out ahead of them as they topped a rise and reined in.
“What do you think, Sequoia?” Seaforth asked.
“The herd is fit,” the breed said. “They have probably come from South Texas, and have not had time to lose weight on the drive.”
“And the men?”
“They seem to know what they do,” the breed commented. “I see two men who are very experienced, perhaps much older than the others.”
“Well,” Seaforth said, “if Gar is right, one of these fellas is called Big Jake Motley, and he’d be in his fifties or sixties.”
“Fifties, I think,” Sequoia said.
“Okay,” the Major said, “let’s go with that. Two of them in their fifties?”
“Yes.”
“The odds are in our favor, then,” Seaforth said. “Twelve to seven, and two of them are old codgers.”
Sequoia turned and stared at his boss.
“What?” Seaforth asked.
“The old codgers are the experienced men,” the breed said. “Do not underestimate them.”
“I don’t underestimate anyone,” Seaforth said. “You got anything else you want to tell me?”
“Yes.”
“What is it?” Seaforth asked impatiently.
Sequoia turned his attention back down to the men and the herd.
“They have seen us.”
* * *
* * *
Taco rode from drag all the way up front to where Jake was leading and fell in alongside him.
“On the ridge behind us, jefe,” he said.
“I see ’em,” Jake said. “Just two?”
“Sí, jefe,” Taco said, “but they might just be scouts. There will be more if they are from Three Rivers.”
At that moment Chance came riding up.
“See ’em?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Jake said, “we were just sayin’ there’s gotta be more than two.”
“Whadaya wanna do, Jake?” Chance asked.
“Let’s break out the pistols,” Jake said.
“Right,” Chance said.
“But tell the boys not to shoot unless you or I do,” Jake told Chance.
“That’s what I was thinkin’,” Chance said.
He rode on ahead to the chuckwagon, where they had all stored their pistols. He also gave the word to Carlito and Curly.
“Tell the others,” Jake said to Taco.
“Sí, señor.” He rode back to inform Dundee and his cousin, Desi, of the order.
* * *
* * *
Seaforth and Sequoia rode back to the rest of the men, fell into stride with them.
“What’d you see?” Garfield asked.
“Just what the breed said there would be,” Seaforth said. “Five, six hundred head, and seven men.”
“So what’s the plan?” Gar asked.
“Right now, we’ll just ride along behind them for a while.”
“Why?”
“They spotted us,” Seaforth said. “Now I want to give them time to think.”
“We might be giving them time to plan,” Garfield said.
“They can plan all they want,” Seaforth said. “They’re a cook and six cowpunchers, two of which are well past their prime.”
“But they’ve got guns, right?”
“So?”
“Anybody with a gun is dangerous,” Garfield said.
“We are twelve men who know how to use our guns,” Seaforth said. “I think we’ve got the upper hand, don’t you, Gar?”
“Whatever you say, Major,” Garfield said.
“That’s what I like to hear,” Seaforth said. “Now we’ll give them a few hours to think it over before we ride down and give them the opportunity to simply hand the cattle over with no bloodshed.”
“And do you think they’ll go for that?”
Seaforth grinned and said, “I certainly hope not.”
* * *
* * *
Where are they?” Chance asked, coming up alongside Jake again.
“They’re givin’ us time to think,” Jake said.
“Why would they wanna do that?”
“Because they think they’re gonna scare us.”
“Well,” Chance said, “I’m concerned, but I can’t say that I’m scared.”
“Me neither,” Jake said. “But a few hours might help us rather than hurt us.”
“In what way?” Chance asked.
Jake looked at Chance and said, “I don’t know. I’m thinkin’ about it.”
* * *
* * *
Sequoia rode up ahead again, and came back.
“They are still moving,” he said.
“Any change in their formation?” Seaforth asked.
“No,” Sequoia said, “the usual. Two on each flank, and one drag.”
“And the chuckwagon and remuda ahead?”
“Ahead,” Sequoia said, “but not so far ahead.”
“They’re stayin’ bunched, then,” Seaforth said. “Good. We can take ’em all at once.”
Garfield looked at his leader, and thought how much easier it would have been if they could have taken the chuckwagon and remuda first.
“You got somethin’ to say?” Seaforth asked him.
“Not a thing, Major,” Garfield said. “Not a thing.”
* * *
* * *
By midday Jake was wondering what the holdup was. Then Chance came riding up alongside him again. He and his friend both had pistols in their belts now, and wore them with equal discomfort.
“What are they waitin’ for?” Chance asked.
“For our nerves to get the best of us,” Jake said.
“Well, they’re gettin’ their way,” Chance said. “I don’t know about you, but my nerves are startin’ to get the better of me.”
“I know what you mean,” Jake said.
“Think they’ll wait until we make camp?”
“No, then they’d have to come in the dark. They’d be just as much at a disadvantage as we would.”
“Good thinkin’,” Chance said, “unless they figure that’s what we’d think.”
“Look, we’re gonna keep watch,” Jake said, “but I think they’ll wait at least until mornin’, maybe hit us before we start up for the day.”
“Or maybe they won’t hit us at all,” Chance said. “Maybe there was just the two of them.”
“Maybe, maybe,” Jake said, “but I doubt it.”
* * *
* * *
Seaforth had his raiders fall back about a mile and then camp.
“Let’s set a watch,” he said to Garfield, “just in case they send somebody back to take a look at us.”
“Right,” Garfield said.
“And I want them to be sharp.”
“I’ll start with Sequoia,” Garfield said.
“Good. And tell them I’ll shoot anybody who falls asleep on watch.”
Garfield knew that, a
fter himself and Sequoia, they did have a few good men among the others. Major Seaforth Bailey, however, never acted that way. It was as if he always expected the men to fall down on the job. Garfield knew he could put together a crew of at least six from this band that could accomplish anything.
If he had to.
He went to find Sequoia and start the watch.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Carlito handed Jake a plate of bacon and eggs, with biscuits and a cup of coffee.
“Where did you get the eggs?”
“I was saving them, jefe.”
“So why make ’em today?”
Carlito shrugged.
“Just in case.”
Chance came walking over and Carlito handed him a plate.
“Where’d he get the eggs?” Chance asked, sitting across from Jake.
“He said he was savin’ them.”
“Then why make ’em now?”
“Accordin’ to him,” Jake said, “just in case.”
Chance looked at Jake, then checked around them.
“So far, so good,” he said, and started eating.
* * *
* * *
When Garfield stood up from his bedroll he saw the men gathered around the fire. As he walked over he noticed that they were all eating. He also saw that the cook, this morning, was Seaforth.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“What’s it look like?” Seaforth said. “Breakfast.”
“We’re taking the time to have breakfast?”
“Why not?” Seaforth asked. “That herd isn’t going anywhere.”
Garfield wondered what had convinced the Major to make such a decision, but the food smelled good and he was hungry.
“Fine, then,” he said. “Hand me a plate.”
Seaforth loaded up a plate with beans and a hunk of bread and passed it over to Garfield.
“I want you all to eat well,” the Major told them. “We might be killing some men today, and I want you all to do it on a full stomach.”
The men took their plates and moved away from the fire to sit in groups.
Garfield stayed at the fire with Seaforth.
“What’s the plan?” Garfield asked. “I know you don’t care if they kill on an empty stomach or a full one.”
Seaforth laughed.
“You know me too well, Gar,” the Major said. “I just want them all to be calm when the showdown comes.”
“Showdown?”
“Yes,” Seaforth said, “I’ve decided we’re simply going to ride up and tell them we want the herd.”
“And you think they’ll just hand it over?”
“Definitely not,” Seaforth said.
“So what happens when they say no?”
“Well, then we take it.” Seaforth pointed to Gar’s plate. “How’re your beans?”
* * *
* * *
Carlito passed plates of bacon and eggs to all the other men, and then took one himself.
“This is a treat,” Dundee said. “Thanks, Carlito.”
Jake knew Carlito was thinking the condemned men deserved a hearty meal. He was just making sure if they all died this day, they died well fed.
Jake and Chance ate their food while keeping a sharp lookout. They weren’t taking any chances of being surprised while everybody had a plate in their hands.
“Dundee, Curly,” Jake shouted, “eat up and then get out to the herd. We don’t want no surprises this mornin’.”
“Got it, boss,” Dundee said.
The two young men wolfed down their food, then saddled up and rode out to the herd.
* * *
* * *
Jake finished his breakfast, gave the empty plate to Carlito, then picked up his pistol and stuck it in his belt.
“Can you hit anythin’ with that?” Chance asked, also sticking his in his belt. Both were rather aged Peacemakers.
“Can you?” Jake asked.
“Jake, I could always hit what I aimed at with a handgun,” Chance said. “You couldn’t. I’m askin’ you if you’ve gotten any better.”
“I don’t think I’ve fired it since the last time I saw you,” Jake said.
“Seriously?” Chance looked down at Jake’s gun. “Have you even cleaned it? Will it even fire? What if those jaspers come after us today—”
“I cleaned it,” Jake said, cutting him off. “It’ll fire.”
“I hope everyone else’s will,” Chance said.
Taco and Desi finished eating and went to saddle their horses. They each had a revolver shoved into their belt.
Jake and Chance were saddling their horses when Curly came riding up to them.
“Company, boss,” he said. “Lots of it.”
“Where?” Jake asked.
Curly pointed behind them, to the ridge where they had seen the two men. Now they saw a dozen riding toward them.
“Okay,” Jake said. “Get everybody over here.”
“Right,” Curly said.
“What if they go straight for the herd?” Chance asked.
“Look at ’em,” Jake said. “They’re circling around to come right into camp.”
“What the hell for?”
“They’re gonna talk first,” Jake surmised.
While they waited, Dundee, Curly, Desi, and Taco came riding up behind them. Even Carlito came over from his wagon, carrying a rifle.
“Carlito, stay out of sight in your wagon, with your rifle ready,” Chance ordered.
“Sí, patrón!”
“Good idea,” Jake said.
The dozen riders came right into camp with their horses. The man in front was wearing a Confederate coat and the insignia of a major. He was also wearing a Confederate pistol holster on his right hip, the kind with the flap that folded over the gun.
As the riders arrived they spread out behind their leader, which suited Jake. That made them all accessible targets. If they had been grouped behind him some of them would have been shielded.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” the man in the gray jacket said. “My name is Major Seaforth Bailey. These men behind me are Seaforth’s Raiders. No doubt you’ve heard of us.”
“Never,” Jake said, and he could see that annoyed the man.
“I’m Jake Motley. What can we do for you and your men?”
“Is that Big Jake Motley?” Seaforth asked.
“That’s what some people call me,” Jake admitted.
Seaforth looked at the six men in front of him. He could see their pistols in their belts, and rifles in their hands.
“Your men are all armed,” he said.
“Well,” Jake said, “you can never be too careful.”
“Perhaps I should get to the point, then,” Seaforth said.
“We’d appreciate it,” Chance said. “We’ve got some work to do.”
“Mr. Motley, you were in Three Rivers a couple of days ago, and you took some supplies from the mercantile,” Seaforth said.
“I bought some supplies,” Jake said.
“Yes, well, those supplies were spoken for—by me.”
“The whole store?” Jake asked.
“Indeed,” Seaforth said, “right down to the licorice.”
“Licorice?” Jake looked at Dundee, who just shrugged. He hadn’t seen the young man take any candy.
“Yes,” Seaforth said, “my licorice.”
“I think you’re bein’ a little ridiculous, Major,” Jake said. “There was plenty of supplies in that store. Enough for everyone.”
“I beg to differ,” Seaforth said. “There was just enough there for me and my men. I’m afraid I’m going to have to demand you return them. All of them.”
“I don’t think we can do that,” Jake said. “We�
�ve already eaten some of the bacon and”—he looked at Dundee again—“I’m sure, some of the licorice.”
“That’s too bad,” Seaforth said. “I’m going to demand some sort of recompense.”
“Some what?” Chance asked.
“Payment,” Seaforth said.
“We paid,” Jake reminded him.
“But you didn’t pay me,” Seaforth said. “I’m afraid you owe me.”
“Now you’re mistaken,” Jake said. “We don’t owe you a thing.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Seaforth said. “The only way I can figure to settle this is for my men and me to take your herd.” The man shrugged. “It’s only fair.”
“Who are you kiddin’?” Chance asked.
“Sorry?” Seaforth asked. Then he looked at Jake. “Who’s this man?”
“My partner,” Jake said, “and my friend.”
“I didn’t know you had a partner.”
“Well, you know now,” Chance said. “And you’re not takin’ our herd.”
“Are you going to stop us?” Seaforth asked.
“We are.”
“In case you can’t add,” Seaforth said to Chance, “you’re outnumbered two-to-one.”
“There’s a rifle pointed right at you, Major,” Jake said. “If you and your men try anythin’, you’ll be the first to die.”
“You could be bluffin’,” Seaforth said, after a moment of consideration.
“I could be,” Jake said, “but I ain’t.”
“Well,” the Major said, “that’s all right. This was only meant to be a conversation.”
“And the conversation is over,” Jake said. “You’re not takin’ our herd, and we’re not returnin’ any supplies.”
“You’re being very unreasonable.”
“Isn’t that jacket kind of old?” Chance asked. “The war’s been over for more than twenty years.”
Seaforth ignored the insult to his jacket.
“Looks like I do agree on one thing,” Seaforth said. “This conversation is over . . . for now.”
Ralph Compton Big Jake's Last Drive Page 9
