by Jack L Knapp
#
The group of men that Jimmy McKenna pointed out had been drinking steadily. Ray spoke quietly to gamblers and other patrons as he circulated through the room, but as much as possible he remained near the table occupied by ‘The Boys’.
The young man at the bar, the target of frequent stares from John Kinney and his companions, flirted with some of Gertie’s Girls in fluent Spanish. He’d even sung songs to them. His voice was untrained but pleasant, and the women clearly enjoyed it. His latest attempt, done while Ray was leaning nearby with his back to the bar, had apparently been an attempt to translate an English-language song into Spanish. The effort had been only a partial success, as the women had broken into helpless laughter. The man smiled and laughed too.
“Excuse me, sir. I think I might have heard that song somewhere, but I can’t remember the name. The version I heard was in English, though.”
The man nodded agreeably. “Likely it was the same song. It’s my favorite, and I often sing it while I’m riding. It’s a good song for a night-herder to have because it’s slow enough to calm the cattle down. I learned it from my mother and I think of her when I sing it. You asked about the English version, and that’s called Silver Threads Among the Gold.”
“If you wouldn’t mind, would you sing at least the first verse for me?”
“Don’t mind at all, mister. You got a name?”
“Sure, I’m the fellow who keeps order here. My name’s Ray.”
“Glad to meet you, Ray. I’m Billy. Anyway, the song goes like this:
Darling, I am growing older,
Sil-ver threads among the gold...”
T listened in silence while the young man sang. Glancing around, he saw that others were also listening. The circle of quiet spread from the bar until it reached the table occupied by Kinney and his ‘Boys’.
“By God, I heard enough of that damned song while that kid was riding with us. I’ve got a mind to go over and shut his trap!”
“Easy, Jesse. It ain’t worth it.”
Ray listened to the loud comments and murmured, “You know those people, Billy?”
“Yeah, that’s Jesse Evans. He ramrods the others, all except that big man with the mustache. He’s the boss, John Kinney. I rode with them for a while, but they’re constantly on the prod and they’re gonna end up decorating a cottonwood one of these days. I heard they even wrote a letter to Colonel Fountain and he published it in his newspaper. It won’t take much for people down there to start using ropes on Kinney’s boys instead of steers.”
“Sounds like leaving might have been the smart thing to do.”
“About time I did something smart. I’ve done enough dumb things to last a lifetime. Colonel Fountain is no man to mess with; he’ll likely wind up governor if somebody doesn’t kill him first.”
The two men chuckled. The women, sensing the tension radiating from Kinney’s table, had prudently moved away.
While the conversation was still ongoing, chairs scraped back from the table. The man identified as Jesse was walking purposefully toward where Billy stood. Billy had turned away and now leaned back nonchalantly, just as Ray had been doing.
Ray realized that Evans meant trouble; a glance down showed that the safety thong had been removed from the hammer of his six-shooter.
“You damned kid! You know I hate that song!”
Ray interrupted at that point. “There won’t be any trouble here.”
“We’ll just by-God see about that! You ain’t even packin’ a gun, tenderfoot!”
“I don’t need one. I reckon, since you’re already up, this would be a good time to leave. Head on down to the Palace. Just tell the owner Ray sent you.”
“I’ll be damned if I will! I’m tired of lookin’ at Antrim! We’re gonna settle this right damned now!”
Ray stepped forward smoothly and slammed his open left palm against Evans’ jaw. Remembering what had happened at Charlie’s, the follow-up right hooked into Evans’ solar plexus, causing him to stop breathing for a moment. He sank to the ground, gasping and holding his midsection.
Ray spared a glance at the others, some of whom had started to rise from the table. “This ends right now. You’re out of it, and I reckon it’s time you took your men elsewhere.” The last was delivered directly at John Kinney.
“Do you know who I am? These men will do what I tell them to do!”
“You’re John Kinney, and you’re going to tell them to walk out peacefully. I won’t tell you again.”
“You talk mighty big for a man that ain’t even packin’!”
“House rules. The boss told me to keep order without using guns and that’s what I intend to do. You leaving on your feet, or will you be dragged out?”
“You know who that is that you just hit with a sneak punch? That’s Jesse Evans. He’s a man-killer, and even if I tell him not to, he’s gonna be lookin’ for you. He’s not a man to quit before he settles up.”
“Your choice. But since he works for you, after I get done with him I’ll come looking for you.”
Kinney opened his mouth, only to freeze. The man who’d introduced himself as Billy held a Colt’s revolver in his hand, the muzzle pointed at Kinney’s face.
“Reckon I might just take a hand in that, John. This time it’s not your boys, it’s you and me. Is that what you want?”
Kinney looked at the muzzle, fascinated.
“Not right now, Antrim. Some other time. I reckon it would be a good idea if you stayed out of Doña Ana County, though.”
“Maybe I will, John, maybe I will. Why don’t you have a couple of the boys pick up Jesse? It might be a good idea to hang onto his pistol too. We wouldn’t want misunderstandings, would we?”
“No, I reckon not.” Kinney nodded to his men, who picked up the stunned Jesse Evans. Kinney carefully lifted the man’s Colt from his holster, holding it with his hand around the cylinder. His finger was conspicuously away from the trigger.
“You understand, Mister, that your boss’s rule about you not wearing guns won’t protect you when you’re outside?”
“I never thought otherwise.”
Kinney turned and followed his men out. The two carrying Evans pushed their way through the batwing doors, leaving them to flap behind the last man.
The young man Kinney had called Antrim put his pistol back in the holster. “You made a bad enemy this afternoon, Ray. John got that much right, if Jesse gets a clear shot at you he’ll kill you.”
“I’ll keep my eyes peeled, Billy. He called you Antrim, is that your name? Bill Antrim?”
The young man hesitated. “I’d rather you forgot you heard that name. I only took it after I had a misunderstanding over in Arizona Territory, and I didn’t want friends of mine to hear bad things about me. They’re good people and I reckon I’m a disappointment to them. But at least I left Kinney’s bunch, and I’m going back to punchin’ cows now. I’ve got a job working south of here. The owner’s an Englishman, but he’s a good man anyway. I figure to stay away from Kinney if he lets me.”
“So you won’t be going to Doña Ana County?”
“No, I’m going south to the Tularosa Basin to visit friends in Dogtown. After that I’ll head north and go to work. There’s another family on the way that I owe a visit. They loaned me a horse once when Apaches shot mine out from under me.”
“You’re lucky to be alive, then.”
“I know it. I hid out until the Apaches left, then I started walkin’. Ma’am Jones took me in long enough for my feet to heal up, then the family loaned me a horse. I figure to go by long enough to say thanks, then head for Mr. Tunstall’s ranch. Kinney’s spread is over west of Mesilla, about a hundred miles or so from Lincoln County, and I don’t plan to go over there. Like I said, I had a spot of trouble in Arizona and I’d just as soon stay away from the border country.
“I understand. I’ll forget the Antrim part; you got a name you feel comfortable telling me?”
“William’s my father�
�s name. Except for my brother, he’s the only close family I’ve got left. We’ve got cousins named Bonney, so I figured they wouldn’t mind if I borrowed their name. I’m William Bonney nowadays. I won’t forget you stepping in, though. You call me Billy, Ray.”
“I’ll do that, Billy. Luck to you with your new job. Buy you a drink?”
“Thanks, Ray. I wouldn’t want you to take this the wrong way, but I don’t drink. I seen enough of what happens when men get likkered up and I just never developed a taste for it.”
Ray nodded, then felt a sudden chill. He’d heard that name before.
“You said you’re going north after you leave Dogtown, Billy? Up toward Lincoln County?”
“That’s the place. Good country for ranching. John Chisum runs thousands of head on the Jinglebob, but John and I don’t always see eye to eye. Mr. Tunstall’s a good man, he knows I’ve had trouble, but he’s willing to give me a chance anyway. I won’t cause him to be sorry. I stand by my friends, Ray.”
“Good to know. I’ll see you around, Billy.”
#
Libby drifted over the sandy ground. The dust cloud was still ahead and she heard hoofbeats. This was as good a place as any. The trail here had hills on both sides, meaning that the oncoming men would be following the track.
Two riders trotted into view, then halted, right hands held up to warn the others, following a few yards back.
Libby waited, standing in the middle of the trail.
“By gum, it looks like a white girl! What are doing out here? Where are your folks?”
“They’re a long way from here. I’ve been staying with friends.”
“Girl, you’re lucky to be alive! Injuns killed my brother over east of here, just shot him down. They stole his horses and his rifle too. Good thing you didn’t run into them murdering Paiutes!”
“I stayed with Indians. They took me in, fed me, gave me clothes to wear. The Paiutes who camped near here didn’t kill your brother.”
A third man, apparently the leader of the group, had come up in time to hear her response.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, child. We’ve had trouble with Paiutes for years. Things go along peaceful for maybe a year, then they start raidin’ ranches. Settlements, too. They’re a bunch of murderers, all of them. We’re going to wipe out that bunch that’s camped by the river.”
“I don’t like disagreeing with adults, sir, but you should turn around now. I’ve told you that my friends did not murder the man you speak of. The village has no men, only women and children. The men are away hunting.”
“Don’t matter. Long as they’re there, they’re a danger to all of us. You stand aside, little girl. We’ll take you back to town with us as soon as this is over.”
“You don’t understand. This is as far as you go.”
“Jake, you pick her up and keep her safe from the fighting. Rest of you, let’s go,” Andy said.
The man called Jake snarled something; perhaps he was disappointed at not being in on the kill.
Obediently, he walked his horse toward Libby.
Chapter Sixteen
“I ain’t shore about this, Ray, but I figured you ought to know. John Kinney left town right after you two had words. He had four of his men with him, said he was heading for Valencia or maybe Los Lunas. He wasn’t sure at the time. They’re both about a day’s ride south of here.”
“Only four, Jimmie?”
“Yeah. Jesse wasn’t one of them.”
“I appreciate it, Jimmie. I’ll keep my eyes peeled.”
“You do that, Ray. I reckon I’ll turn in early. It’s time I was gettin’ back to my place. I expect the house will still be there, but my pets are long gone. They only hang around if I feed ‘em.”
“Pets, Jimmie? You let a dog run loose in the mountains while you’re away?”
“Naw, I’ve got a skunk and a yearling grizzly. The griz is okay, but a fellow has to watch out and not step on that skunk. She gets notional when she has babies too, so I don’t feed her in the house after she’s had kits. I put feed out at the edge of the woods and I don’t let her in until the young ones leave.”
“Makes sense to me, Jimmie. Well, good luck on your trip. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“You too, Ray. You should know that Evans has a rep for not caring which way a fellow is facing when he shoots.”
“Thanks again, Jimmie.”
Jimmie left after that and Ray went back to circulating among the tables. The evening passed with only one disturbance, a fight involving three men that threatened to spread. Ray yanked two of them apart and the third man decided he didn’t want to fight any more, so Ray walked the two to the bar and bought them a drink apiece, leaving it in front of them until they decided to shake hands. After a few minutes talk, each explaining why the other man was in the wrong, they shook and drank the whiskey.
“This place is getting too civilized, Ray. Shucks, we used to have a dozen cuttings and maybe a shooting or two every night before you got here. Wuz you one of them town tamers before?”
“No, I’m just a man that thinks that watching people half-kill each other is bad for business. Didn’t you get tired of fixing the broken tables and chairs, Muddy?”
“I didn’t mind them so much; the tables are solid, and chairs don’t cost much. But one time a feller shot my mirror. That mirror come all the way from Chicago, and a drunk busted it before I’d had it a week.”
“I see you’ve still got your mirror behind the bar, Muddy.”
“Different one. Took me a month to replace the busted one.”
“Did the man that broke it pay for replacing it?”
“Nope. I’d a charged him, but he got killed in the fight. Shame, that.”
Ray smiled and went on his way, leaving Muddy to remember the good old days.
He saw no sign of Evans during the evening and finally went upstairs when play slowed and locals went home. A few hardcore gamblers were bucking the tiger at the faro table, but the lookout would be able to handle any disagreements.
Was Evens out there somewhere, waiting to ambush him? Ray lit the kerosene lamp, then pulled the curtains apart while standing well back in the room. Psychokinetics made opening the window without revealing himself a simple task.
The rifle flash came from a hayloft almost two hundred yards away. The loud boom and the thwack from the bullet arrived at the same time. The wall opposite the window showed a gash where the projectile splintered the wood.
T might have felt a hunch before the man fired, but Ray had sensed nothing. He’d been exercising simple prudence. As long as Evans was around, he’d be a danger to Ray and anyone who might be standing nearby. Ray blew out the lamp, then formed his bubble. The reddish flash vanished as Ray drifted across the room, still keeping the bubble tight around his body. He held his breath, waiting to expand the bubble, and slipped head-first through the open window. As soon as he was clear of the frame, he expanded the bubble and took a deep breath.
The night was dark, only the faint light of stars to show where the dusty main street was located. Farther down the street, The Crystal Palace and another gambling emporium showed dim lights, but the town’s other buildings were dark and silent. Ray drifted toward the barn, watching for Evans. Was he still in the hayloft, or had he slipped down the ladder?
If the would-be ambusher had indeed vacated the loft after his shot, he’d be somewhere behind the barn. The corral held horses and they sounded nervous, stamping their hooves and snorting.
Ray drifted silently around the barn, heading toward the corral and listening. He heard nothing but the horses.
Had the man remained still, Ray might have missed seeing him, but he scraped against something while moving away from the back of the corral. The small sound, unlike the faint noises from the horses, alerted Ray to movement.
Still in his bubble, Ray floated across the corral.
The man might have seen Ray’s shadow against the stars. There wa
s a sudden gunshot, the flash accompanied this time by a sharp push as the bullet hit Ray’s bubble. He dropped to the ground and looked to where he’d seen the man crouched, briefly revealed in the rifle’s flash.
Collapsing his bubble, Ray ran toward the ambusher. He was reloading, the clack-click-clink announcing that the empty shell had been ejected and another cartridge seated in the chamber. Ray saw the man’s shadowy form barely in time, shouldering into him and driving him back against the timbers of the corral. The man grunted in astonishment and dropped the rifle.
Ray couldn’t see clearly, and there was nothing specific to direct his PK against. Lifting his boot, he kicked out where he thought the man was. A satisfying jolt raced up his leg and the figure collapsed. Ray stumbled over the rifle, not realizing for a moment what it was, but his hand contacted the still-warm barrel as he reached down to catch his balance. The man, dim in the starlight, stood up. The faint light reflected from metal, a revolver or knife.
Lifting the rifle, Ray’s years of soldiering paid off. He swung the rifle vertically, the steel butt-plate slamming into the ambusher’s mid-section. The man didn’t go down, so Ray pulled back and hit the man again, this time thrusting the butt straight into the man’s head.
That one did the job. The loud crunch was followed by a rustling as the man collapsed.
Holding the rifle in his left hand, Ray grabbed the man’s collar and dragged him around the barn, dropping him at the edge of the roadway. He paused for a moment, listening, but heard no sound. Holding the rifle tight against his body, he levitated, drifting back toward the open window. This time it was easy to see; a number of lamps had been lighted, including one two windows down from his room.
Ray eased inside, then collapsed his bubble. He laid the rifle on the bed, then felt for the lamp, the chimney still warm. Ray used one of his few lucifers to light the lamp, remaining well back from the light, but this time nothing happened.
Was the man dead? Was it Evans, or someone else? Ray decided to wait and say nothing. On the plus side, he now had a rifle, and hopefully it hadn’t been damaged by using it as a makeshift club.
