Showdown On the Hogback (1991)

by L'amour, Louis

  “They aren’t that. Not murderers,” Gunter protested uneasily, but refused to meet her eyes.

  “Reckless, yes. And temperamental. Not murderers.”

  “Not even Domie Shaw? The nice-looking, boyish one who has killed a dozen men and is so cold-blooded and fiendish at times that others are afraid of him? No, Uncle, there is no way you can sidestep this. If you continue you are going to countenance murder, the killing of innocent people.

  “Loren doesn’t care. He has always been cold-blooded. You’ve wondered why I wouldn’t marry him. That’s why. He has the disposition of a tiger. He would kill anything or anyone that stood in his way. Even you, Uncle John.”

  He started and looked at her uneasily. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because it’s true. I know our tall and handsome man. He will allow nothing to come between him and what he desires. You’ve chosen some choice companions.”

  She got to her feet. “If you hear anything of Captain Kedrick, let me know, will you?”

  Gunter stood still for a long time after she left.

  He swore bitterly. Connie was like her mother. She always had the faculty for putting her finger on the truth, and certainly she was right about this. It was beginning to look ugly, but away down deep in his heart, he was upset less over Keith than over Burwick.

  That strange, fat, and dirty man was a thing of evil, of corruption. There was some evil thing within him, something cold and vicious as a striking snake.

  Connie Duane was not the only person who was disturbed over the strange disappearance of Tom Kedrick.

  Bob McLennon, unofficial commander of the forces for defense, sat in his rambling ranch house on the edge of Yellow Butte. Pete Slagle, Burt Williams, Dai Reid, and Pit Laine were all gathered there. With them was Sue Laine, keeping to the background. Her dark, lovely eyes were stirring from one to the other, and her ears were alert for every word.

  “Blazes, man!” McLennon said irritably. “Where could he have gone? I’d have sworn he went into that box canyon. There was no other place for him to go, unless he took wings and flew! He had to go in there!”

  “You looked yourself,” Slagle said dryly.

  “Did you see him? He just ain’t there, that’s all!

  He got plumb away!”

  “He probably did that,” Dai Reid commented.

  “A quick man, that Tom Kedrick. Hand or mind, he’s quick.” He drew out his pipe and stoked it slowly. “You shouldn’t have jumped him,” he continued.

  “I know that lad, an’ he’s honest. If he said that was what he come for, it was the truth he told. I’d take my oath he’d no knowledge of the killin’!”

  “I’d like to believe that,” McLennon agreed.

  “The man impressed me. We could use an honest man on the other side, one who would temper the wind a bit or get this thing stopped. his “It won’t be that Shaw who stops. He’s a murderin’ little devil,” Slagle said. “He’ll kill like a weasel in a chicken pen until there’s nought left to kill.”

  “Kedrick fought me fair,” Williams said.

  “I’ll give him that. his “He’s a fair man,” Dai persisted.

  “Since a lad I’ve known him. I’d not be wrong. I’d give fifty acres of my holdin’ for the chance to talk to him.”

  Daylight brought the first attack. It came swiftly, a tight bunch of riders who exploded from the mouth of the arroyo and hit the dusty street of Yellow Butte on a dead run, pistols firing.

  Then came the deep, heavy concussion of dynamite.

  As suddenly as they had come, they were gone. Two men sprawled in the street.

  Peters, the man Shaw had faced down in the streets of Mustang, was one of them. He had taken three .44 slugs through the chest and died before he hit the ground. He had made one final effort to win back his self-respect. He had seen Dornie Shaw in the van of the charging riders and rushed into the street to get him. He had failed to get off a single shot.

  The second man down was shot through the thigh and arm.

  He was a Swede who had just put in his second crop.

  The riders had planned their attack well. They had worked near enough to the guards at the mouth of the arroyo and had come at a time when no attack was expected.

  The one guard awake was knocked down by a charging horse, but miraculously suffered only bruises.

  Two bundles of dynamite had been thrown. One had exploded against the door of the general store, smashing it off its hinges and tearing up the porch. The second had exploded harmlessly between the buildings.

  The first rattle of rifle fire brought Tom Kedrick to an observation point. He had saddled his horse, hoping for a break, and instantly, he saw it. The two guards had rushed to the scene of action, and he led his horse out of the crevasse and rode at a canter to the canyon’s mouth. Seeing dust over the town, he swung right and, skirting close to the butte, slipped out into the open, a free man once more!

  Chapter 6

  Kedrick did not return toward Mustang. He had come this far for a purpose, and he meant to achieve it. Turning west and north, he rode upstream away from Yellow Butte and Mustang. He wanted actually to see some of the homes of which so much had been said. By the way these people lived he could tell the sort they were. It was still and warm in the morning, and after the preliminary escape, he slowed his horse to a walk and studied the terrain. Certainly, nothing could be farther from swampland, and in that at least, the company had misrepresented. Obviously, they had misrepresented in maintaining that the land was vacant, but if the squatters were a shiftless lot, Kedrick knew he would continue his job. Already he was heartily sick of the whole mess, yet he owed Gunter money, and now to pay it back was a big problem. And then, although the idea lurked almost unthought in the back of his consciousness, there was Connie Duane.

  In his fast-moving and active life he had met many women, and a few had interested him, but none so much as this tall girl with the quiet, interested eyes. His desire to get back to Mustang had nothing to do with the company, but only with her. At the same time, Dornie Shaw had acted without his orders, had slain the messenger and attacked the town. Of course, they might think him dead.

  Turning due north he rode through the sagebrush and catclaw toward two towering blue mountains that stood alone on this side of the rim that bordered the country to the north. On his left, he saw broken land and what was evidently a deep arroyo. He swung the Appaloosa over and headed it toward the canyon. Suddenly, he reined in.

  On the ground before him were the tracks of a trotting horse, and he recognized them. They were the same tracks left by the strange rider on the grulla mustang who had scouted their approach to Yellow Butte.

  The tracks were fresh.

  Riding more slowly, he came to the edge of the canyon and looked down at a long green meadow, fenced and watered by a small stream. At the far side, tucked in a corner, was a stone cottage, at once more attractive and better built than any other he had seen in this section. Ahead of him a trail turned down, so without delay, he rode down it and walked his horse across the meadow by a narrow lane, toward the house.

  It was a pleasant place of sandstone blocks and a thatched roof. Shade trees sheltered the yard, and there were a half dozen hens pecking about. In the corral, there were several horses. His heart jumped as he saw the grulla, saddled and waiting.

  He drew up in the dooryard and swung down, trailing his reins. The door opened, and a girl came out with a pan of water. She started as she saw him, and he recognized her instantly. It was Sue Laine, the girl of the trail, the girl in whom Dornie was reputed to be interested.

  “You!” she gasped as she stared at him. “They told me you were dead!” He shrugged. “Not dead, just hungry. Could you feed a man?”

  She studied him a minute and then nodded. “Come in. Better tie your horse, though. He’ll head for that meadow if you don’t. And,” her voice was dry, “you may need him. This isn’t exactly friendly country.”

  He tied his hors
e near the grulla and followed her inside. “Isn’t it?” he said. “Somehow I gathered you weren’t exactly an enemy to the company.”

  “Don’t say that!” she flared. “Don’t ever say that!” Her voice lowered. “Not around here, anyway! If my brother ever heard!”

  So Pit Laine and his sister did not see alike? That was an interesting point. He bathed his hands and face in the basin she gave him, and then combed his hair. Ruefully, he rubbed his chin. “Your brother got a razor? I hate to go unshaven.”

  She brought a razor without comment, and he shaved and then dried his face and hands and walked into the house.

  It was amazingly neat, and on a side table there were several books. Flowered curtains hung at the windows, and several copper dishes were burnished to brightness.

  He sat down and she brought him food, beef, eggs, and homemade bread with honey.

  “Everybody’s looking for you,” she said. “Where have you been?”

  He accepted the statement and ignored the question.

  “After that messenger was killed, I had to get out of Yellow Butte. I did. What’s been happening?”

  “Keith served a final ultimatum. We either move, or they run us out. McLennon refused.”

  “He did right.”

  She turned on him, her eyes questioning.

  “You think that? I thought you were their man?”

  He looked up from his food and shook his head.

  “I don’t know where I stand, but I don’t go for murder or for running people out of their homes.”

  “They can’t stay, anyway. If this land becomes a reservation they will all be moved off. We will, too. They are foolish to fight.”

  “At least, the government will buy their land and pay for their investment. In any event, the company has misrepresented things.”

  “Does it matter?” She sat down opposite him. “They will win. They have money, influence, and power. The settlers here have nothing.” She locked around her bitterly. “Perhaps you think I am going against my own people, but that’s not true. These aren’t my people. Pit and I don’t belong here and we never have, although Pit won’t see it. Do you think I want to slave my life away on this desert?”

  She leaned toward him. “Look, Captain Kedrick, you’re one of them, not just working for them, not just a hired gunman like Dornie Shaw. You can lead the men you have to, and I wouldn’t be surprised but what you could even handle Keith. You could be’ a big man in this country or any country. “Why be foolish and start thinking like you are? These farmers and ranchers can do nothing for you. They can’t even help themselves. The company will win, and if you are one of them, you will have a share in the winning. Don’t be foolish, Captain. Stay with them, and do what you have to do.”

  “There are things more important than money.

  There’s self-respect. his She stared at him, her eyes widening. “You don’t really believe that. Try buying supplies with it sometime. You won’t get anyplace. But that isn’t the point. You’ll do what you want, but I want a man who will take me out of this desert.”

  She got up quickly and came around the table. “You could do it, Captain. You could become rich, right here.”

  He smiled at her. “Ambitious, aren’t you?”

  “Why not? Being a rancher’s wife doesn’t appeal to me. I want to get away from here, go someplace, be something, and enjoy life.” She hesitated, studying him. “You could edge Gunter out of it, and Keith-maybe even Burwick. But the first two would be easy, and I know how.”

  “You do?” He looked up at her. She stood very close to him, and she was smiling down at him. She was, he had to admit, a lovely girl and an exciting one too exciting for comfort right now, and that was a fact she understood completely. “How?”

  She shook her head. “Oh, no! That I’d tell you only if you threw in with me, joined me.

  But this much I’ll tell you-John Gunter is small potatoes. They needed money, and he had that girl’s money, so they roped him in. Keith is dangerous because he is ambitious and unscrupulous, but the man to reckon with is Burwick. He will be top man when this thing is over, and you can bank on it.

  He has a way figured, all the time.”

  “You seem to know a great deal.”

  “I do. Men like me, and men talk. They don’t have any idea how much I lead them to say or how much I remember.”

  “Why tell me all this?”

  “Because you’re the man who can do what has to be done. You could whip that bunch into line. All of them would listen to you, even Dornie Shaw-and he’s suspicious of Y. his “Of me? Why?”

  “He saw Dai Reid come from your room. He was watching you.”

  So that was it? He had suspected that Shaw had something on his mind. But why had Shaw been watching?

  What was the little gunman thinking of? And had he reported that conference to Keith?

  Kedrick finished his meal and lighted a cigarette. Ever since their first meeting in the desert, this girl had puzzled him. He was inclined to doubt any girl, reared as she must have been, could be so sincerely disdaining of all loyalty and so plainly self-seeking. And this girl was scarcely more than a child, slim, brown, and lovely, with her quick, measuring eyes and her soft lips.

  Now she seemed to have selected him for the man who was to take her away from the desert. But how many others held the same idea? And then, he had no idea of leaving the desert.

  “Your brother around?” he asked.

  Her glance was a quick flash of alarm. “You don’t want to see him or talk to him! You’d better get out of here!”

  “On the contrary, Sue. I’d like to talk to Pit. I’ve heard about him, and I’d like to know him.”

  “You’d better go!” she warned. “He’ll be back soon, and some of that Yellow Butte crowd may be with him.”

  “You mean he’s not here? Then whose horse is that out there that grulla?” Her face was strange as she shook her head. “You’ll think I’m a liar, but I don’t know. I never saw the rider.”

  His eyes searched hers. He could see nothing but sincerity there, sincerity and a little fear. “You mean that horse showed up there, tied like that? And you never saw the rider?”

  “That’s right. I looked out this morning, shortly after Pit left, and he was tied right there. This isn’t the first time! He has been here twice before when Pit was gone, and some others have seen him, most of them women when their husbands are away. Mrs. Burt Williams said he was tied to her corral for three or four hours one day.” his, .

  “But surely someone sees the rider come and mount up”… never. He’ll be out there like he is now-he’s gone!”

  Kedrick came to his feet with a start and stared out the door. Sue was right. The mouse-colored horse was gone. His own palouse stood where he had been left, but the grulla had disappeared.

  Walking out into the yard, he looked around very carefully, but there was nothing in sight on the plain or the hills. The horse, and he was positive he had seen it only a few minutes before, was gone! He looked at her and saw the strained expression on her face. Then he walked out to the Appaloosa. Pinned to his saddle was a note.

  He took it down and glanced at it and then passed it to Sue, who had come up beside him.

  STAY AWAY.

  Kedrick shrugged. “Your brother do this?”

  “Oh, no! I told him about the horse, and he knew no more about it than 1. Besides, he didn’t print that. He couldn’t. Pit never learned to either read or write.”

  Long after he had left the Malpais Arroyo behind, he was puzzling over the strange horse.

  Somebody was seriously trying either to puzzle or frighten the squatters, yet it was an action unlike the company. Moreover, it must be somebody who had a lot of time to spend.

  Kedrick rode north toward Blue Hill and then swung east, crossing the Old Mormon Trail and skirting the rim.

  This was good grazing land. There was an abundance of rough forage here, and a good herd of cattle could f
atten on this range without trouble. Moreover, the herding problem was solved in part by the rim, which provided a natural drift fence beyond which the cattle could not go. When he reached Salt Creek he turned down the creek toward the river, but then swung east again. Passing near Chimney Rock, he rode southeast until he struck the Hogback Trail. Once over that ridge, he headed due east for Mustang. Yet as always, his eyes were alive and alert. He loved this land, harsh though it might be at some times. He loved the dim purples and blues, the far-flung mists, and, morning and night, the gray-green of the sagebrush and the rust-red of the sandstone. It was a good country and there was room for all if it were left open for settlement.

  His own mind was not yet resolved. The problem of his debt to Gunter weighed heavily upon him, and there were other considerations. He wanted no trouble, and to withdraw now might mean plenty of it, particularly if he remained in the country, which he had every reason to do. He would try to talk the company into withdrawing, but knew that would fail.

  Just where, in all this, did Connie Duane actually stand? Was she involved more deeply than he believed? Or was it only what had been implied, that her uncle had invested her money in the land speculation? If such was the case, it might be difficult or impossible to get out at this stage-even if they would allow it.

  Burwick puzzled him. Obviously the controlling power, he gave no evidence of where that power came from aside from some native shrewdness.

  Yet there might be much more to the man, and evidently was, for that Keith and Gunter deferred to him was obvious.

  Purposely, Kedrick had said nothing of his hideaway near Yellow Butte when talking to Sue. That young lady already knew more than was good for her, and that spot might again become useful. It was something to know. Mustang was asleep when he rode into the town and headed for the stable. He put his horse up and rubbed it down thoroughly, gave it a good bait of corn, and forked down some hay. Then he made his way quietly to the St. James. As he neared the hotel a tall, lean figure arose from the chair where he himself had been sitting a few days before. The build and the broad hat, the very hang of the guns, left no mistake. It was Laredo Shad.