Where the Long Grass Blows (1976)

by L'amour, Louis

  And just then she lifted her eyes and looked right into his.

  For an instant that seemed an eternity, their eyes held. Then she turned her head, passing a dish to her brother with an idle comment that ignored Levitt completely.

  When she spoke again, her voice was a little louder, as if she wished for him to hear. "Well," she said, "everything is all right for the time being. At least, Star, you have given me until Monday."

  He drew back from the window. That message was for him, and between now and Monday was a lifetime ... three whole days.

  Three days in which much might be done, in which he might somehow get her away from here or in which he might kill Star Levitt Now, he knew that was what he would do if worst came to worst. Never yet had he actually hunted a man down to kill him. Nor had he ever set out to kill a man. He had killed, but only in defending himself or whatever or whoever it was he was protecting. He had never belted on a gun for the purpose of killing.

  There had been times. ... He remembered that desperate moment on the old Butterfield stage when three men had suddenly leaped down in front of the stage and ordered the others to throw up their hands.

  The driver had made a move to quiet his team, and when he moved they shot him. In an instant, Canavan fired. He fired one barrel, then the other, and two men were on the ground. And he nailed the third with a pistol shot at eighty yards. Brought him down, at least Two of the men lived to hang, and the day they were hung Canavan was driving stage in place of the man they had murdered ... his shotgun beside him.

  That had been long ago, and he never thought back to the moment. The time for action had come and he had not thought, but simply reacted as was necessary. And he had brought the stage and its passengers and shipments in safely.

  It was time to leave. From the darkness under the trees, he surveyed the ground he must cover.

  It was very dark now, with occasional flashes of lightning.

  He started for the stable and his horse and, just as he stepped past the last tree, a huge old cottonwood, a man stepped out of the darkness.

  "Pete? Is that you? You got a match?"

  It was Kerb Dahll Recognition came to them at the same instant, and Dahl let out a startled grunt and went for his gun.

  There was no chance to grapple with the man, no chance for a quick, soundless battle. Too much space intervened between them, and even as Dahl's hand closed over his gun butt, Canavan fired.

  He had no recollection of drawing, no thought of it, he had needed the gun and had reacted instantly, flame stabbed from the muzzle once, then again.

  Dahl took a hesitant step forward, his own gun belching flame through the bottom of its holster, and then he fell to his knees and pitched forward on his face.

  In that instant, the rain began to fall Then the bunkhouse door slammed open and somebody yelled, "Kerb! What's up? What's happened?"

  Canavan rounded the stable, grabbed up the trailing bridle reins and swung to the saddle. The dun was no fool and took off from a stand into a dead run, running like a scared rabbit.

  Behind him, somebody fired a futile shot, then another. But he was already out of sight in the darkness and the rain, and the dun was running all-out down the muddy trail. He held to the Soledad road for the sake of making time, and by the time he reached the outskirts of town there was no question of pursuit. He turned into the desert and wove his trail into that of some passing cattle. Then he fell into the trail left by the incoming stage and from it took to the alleyways and byways of town, avoiding the streets, where he might be seen.

  He had no intention of stopping in Soledad, only losing his trail there, for he circled through the town and picked up the trail to Thousand Springs Mesa.

  He patted the dun on the shoulder. "Good boy!

  You saved my bacon tonight."

  Pausing on the trail, he took time to dig his slicker out of the roll behind the saddle, and slipped into it. Lightning flashed, thunder rolled, and the rain came down in torrents. He swore softly, not bitterly, and rode on. "God have pity on the poor sailors on such a night as this," he said, and rode on into the night What was all that about a murder charge against Tom Venable? And what was their connection to the smuggling of opium? He had recognized the smell the instant he sniffed the can. It was an odor one did not soon forget, and he had smelled it first in a joint on the Barbary Coast Now he must think; he must plan. Somehow he had to free Dixie from this entanglement, and if there was no other way, he would face Star Levitt with a gun.

  Yet it was not the way he wanted it. There had to be a better way.

  Chapter XVI

  Bill Canavan's course lay clear before him. All other plans must be shelved, so that the whole situation could be brought into the open by Monday.

  Whatever else needed to be done must now wait until another time.

  He was under no illusions. He had killed Kerb Dahl. And Dahl was one of their warriors, a man upon whom they depended much and the strong right hand of Star Levitt. His victory had been a shock to Canavan.

  He had always been good with guns. He was an instinctively good shot, pointing the gun as one would a finger. And he had always hit what he shot at.

  Yet he had never thought of himself as a gunfighter, nor in the same class with those who had won notoriety in that field.

  With an even break he had beaten Kerb Dahl, and by a good margin.

  It meant only one thing to Bill Canavan. He might survive. He had never really given himself much of a chance, for although he knew he had the courage to face a gun, something he had done in the past, he had never considered himself good enough to win.

  His only chance was, however, to meet the investigating officers, whoever they might be, and state his case. Otherwise he would simply be declared an outlaw.

  Canavan was fully aware that Levitt planned to give him no such chance.

  There was little talk beside the fire on the mesa that night. He explained simply what had happened, and Burt looked at him thoughtfully. "If you beat Dahl you must be pretty good."

  "It was an even break, although I was all keyed up for it. Maybe that gave me the edge."

  He was tired. He realized that more tonight than ever before. He seemed to have been doing nothing but riding and watching, always alert for trouble, always knowing it was out there waiting for him.

  It was scarcely seven o'clock when he stretched out under the stars. He remembered looking up at them and wondering where the clouds had gone, then recalling that the storm had not come this far north.

  He awakened in the cool dawn with a blush of pink upon the lava beds. And he lay for a while watching the light change on the clouds.

  Roily Burt was already up, and he could smell wood smoke and hear the faint crackle of the flames, for the fire was small. He sat up at last and put on his hat. Then he threw the blankets back and got up, pulling on his pants and shaking out his boots. This morning he had collected nothing but a half-grown tarantula, who reared up menacingly. But Canavan was in no mood for trouble, and the big spider wandered away to come again another night. He hadn't been looking for trouble, anyway, just a warm place to sleep. And that big thing, whatever it was, had no right to shake him out of his bed at such an ungodly hour.

  Canavan walked to the spring and, kneeling beside the pool below it, he splashed water on his face and neck and washed his hands with the soap Burt had left there. Using the pool for a mirror, he combed his hair with a broken bit of comb.

  Burt looked up. "If you figure to go courtin'," he said, "you'd better stand close to a razor."

  Canavan felt of his jaws. "Wasn't countin' on it, to tell the truth. But maybe if I'm going to talk to some judge or sheriff from back in God's country, I'd better shave up a mite."

  "You say he sent for the law?"

  "Sure. He's no damn fool. If he can bring them in here and get a clean bill, then we become outlaws and he comes out smelling like a rose."

  "County seat is over a hundred miles by trail,"


  Mabry commented. "If he gives them an idea the situation is under control, they'll be only too glad to go home and forget about it. I been four, five years in this country an' never seen no kind of an officer.

  "Year or two afore I come in, there was a deputy sheriff rode in here and somebody shot him. They dropped his star back at the county seat an' that's the last officer we've had up here until now."

  "At least," Burt said, "the last one would admit to it"

  Mabry glanced at him, but offered no comment On Sunday night they rode to Soledad, three strong young men who knew where they rode and what the consequences might be. They rode because of loyalty to one another, because the ranches for which they had worked had suffered, and because a woman was in trouble. They also rode because in each of them there was a sense of what was right and what was justice, although none of them would have admitted to it or would have known how to phrase it They had never learned how to rationalize, and their world was a simple one where right and wrong were quite obvious.

  Bill Canavan pondered grimly upon his own fortunes, or lack of them. He had come to Soledad a soldier of fortune, riding to the conquest of a disputed valley. And he had remained to find himself fighting a lonely battle for what seemed a lost cause.

  His own fortunes were scarcely to be considered now. He hardly remembered the water rights he held.

  His one thought now was to free Dixie from whatever entanglement she was in. ... Whatever else happened was beside the point Yet in the minds of all was another thing. For they all remembered the thunder and flash of the guns that mowed down friends or acquaintances, that killed good, hard-working men because they stood in the way of Star Levitt They drew up on the outskirts of town. "It looks quiet enough, but I'd suggest you leave your horses at May's. Put them out of sight in the stable and I'll leave mine there, too. Be ready to run. We may have to make a break for it And it will be every man for himself, if we can get away, or else none of us may make it. You boys can hide out in May's stable, if you want, or try to see Kinney.

  "I shall go right to Scott. He can get hold of Allen for me if you boys haven't seen him.

  Keep out of sight If the worst comes, I'll go gunning for Star.

  I never went after a man yet, but rather than see him force Dixie into marriage, and win out here after all he's done, I'll do it."

  "Who are those gents Levitt sent for?" asked Burt "Look, he knew some word of this would get out. ... It always does. So he wrote to the governor and to the sheriff as well. He wants the whole thing cleared up, and the blame put where it should be.

  Of course, he has his trail covered, and he knows they'll end up blaming the Pogue-Reynolds feud.

  "Levitt will do most of the talking, and the witnesses he brings in will agree with what he's said.

  Then the affair will be smoothed over and he will be seen by them to be a stable, honest citizen."

  "Looks like he's drawin' to a pat hand. How do you figure we have a chance?" said Mabry.

  "Well, I want to get to the official, whoever he is, and tell our story before Levitt can. I'm holding the joker in the deck, but of course Levitt doesn't know that."

  "What is this here joker?"

  "Wait. We'll keep that for the showdown."

  He led off, walking the Appaloosa through the encircling trees to May Ashton's place on the outer fringe of Soledad. There was no one in sight, but a lamp was alight inside the cabin, and the one window that opened toward the barn and the corral showed a thread of light below the curtain.

  Canavan took his horse inside and tied him in a stall, forked some hay into the manger and left the others to do likewise.

  Slipping along the wall he glanced into the window and saw her there, sewing by lamplight. She seemed to be alone.

  She opened the door at his tap and he stepped inside. She closed the door behind him. "I'm glad you've come," she said. "Allen was wondering how he could get word to you. Dixie is to be married tomorrow."

  "I know. How about the officers from the capital?

  Have they come?"

  "They're supposed to be here in the morning.

  The sheriff is coming from the county seat, and some attorney from the capital will be here to represent the governor. Two state Rangers are coming with them. I've heard it all being discussed in the restaurant, although most of those I've heard speak of it want nothing to do with any of them. They're afraid."

  "Can't say I blame them. Has there been any talk about a hearing?"

  "They will hold it in the lobby of the Cattleman's Hotel. It's the only place large enough, aside from the Bit and Bridle. That man Voyle was talking to Syd Berdue about it"

  She paused. "Bill, there's one thing you should know. There's a warrant out for your arrest. They want you for killing Kerb Dahl. Was it you?"

  "Yes. But it was a fair fight. In fact, he went for his gun first. I had no choice but to shoot"

  "There's a question there, Bill. Please think of it Levitt says you were a prowler, and Dahl was only protecting the ranch."

  "What does Dixie Venable say? It is her property, after all."

  "She won't say anything. I don't know why, but I know she will not And don't expect anything from her."

  She filled a cup of tea. It's not coffee. I drink tea here at home."

  "No problem. My mother used to drink it. She drank green tea, though."

  "That's what this is."

  She sat down across the table from him. "Bill, they have a reward for you ... dead or alive. An even thousand dollars."

  He whistled. "That's enough to get the bounty hunters out. Now listen: I am going to see Scott. ... I know, you weren't aware that I knew him, but I do. He's a friend ... or I think he is.

  "Mabry and Burt are both in town. Burt limps a little, but he can get around. They'll hide out either in your stable or in the woods close by in case of an emergency. If I get into trouble I'll try to get word to you, and you can pass it along to them.

  "If the worst comes to the worst, I'll try to give myself up to the state officials and try to get an immediate hearing. Due to the fact they've come so far to investigate, I don't think they'll argue that. Then at least I can get the facts before them."

  "Bill, don't count on anybody siding with you.

  Chubb has been around town with Hanson, dropping hints of what might happen to anyone who helped you in any way. You can't depend on any of them. I'm not even sure I'd help if it wasn't for Allen Kinney. But he's in it with you, of his own free will.

  "They've all got the example of what happened at the branding pens to show them how ruthless Levitt is. He smiles very pleasantly and comments on how awful it was, and how you must have been the instigator of it"

  The street was dark when he left May's, and he did not try to hide but walked off up the street as any casual stroller might. To try to slink along would immediately excite suspicion if he was seen.

  Old Man Scott was the one he must see, and he must get to him at once. Scott would know what it was best to do, and Scott would know how to get in touch with the state officers. Also, his place would be a good place to keep out of sight and still have a listening post where he could know all that transpired in the town.

  A half-dozen horses were tied in front of the Bit and Bridle. There was light flooding from the windows, and a sound of loud talk and laughter from within.

  A man opened the door and stumbled into the street, and for an instant Canavan hesitated, suddenly uneasy. The street was altogether too quiet and there was too little movement. Turning at right angles, he went between two buildings, heading for the back door of Scott's place.

  He thought he detected a movement in the shadows and, pausing, he held still for a count of six. Nothing moved. Seeing nothing more, he went to the back door of Scott's place and tapped lightly. The door opened and he stepped in.

  Scott stepped back, alarm in his eyes. "Man, you've stirred up a peck o' trouble! You've got the whole country stood on its ear."

  He fil
led a cup with coffee and put it on the table in front of Canavan. "Drink that. Make you feel better."

  "Thanks." He looked up at Scott again. Was it his imagination or was the old man acting different than he would have expected? Was this whole affair making him unreasonably suspicious?

  "Big trouble's busting loose," Canavan said, I hope I can handle it. Scott, you've got to help me get in touch with those state officers when they arrive.

  I've got to see them right away."

  His ears caught a faint whisper of movement outside, and the cup stopped halfway to his lips.

  He looked up at Scott and felt something turn sick inside him.

  Old Man Scott held a shotgun in both hands, the twin barrels pointed right at his chest. "You just sit tight, son, an' you won't get killed. You just do like I say." He raised his voice. "You make a wrong move an' I'll cut you in two!"

  He spoke even louder. "All right, out there!

  I've got him! You can come in now!"

  The door burst open and Voyle was the first man in, with Allen Kinney right behind him, then Tolman and Emmett Chubb.

  Chubb's satisfaction was obvious. "Well, Canavan!

  Who's top-dog now?" He lifted his pistol.

  "Hold it!" Scott's shotgun made a sharp movement.

  "Just take her easy there, Chubb! This man's my prisoner. I'm claimin' the reward right now!

  Moreover, I'm holdin' him alive for Mr. Levitt!"

  "Like hell!" Chubb declared. "The orders are to shoot on sight!"

  "Not unless you want a blast from this shotgun!"

  Scott said. "Nobody's beatin' me out of my money.

  This feller Kinney has a finger on a piece of it, I reckon, but nobody else. Kinney tipped me off, but nobody else gets a hand on that money but us!"

  Baffled, Chubb hesitated, wanting to shoot but not liking to take a chance against a shotgun at that range.

  Scott was a tough old man and would very likely do just as he threatened.

  "He's right, Emmet*," Kinney said. "He got him fir/bill Canavan stared from one to the other. "Sold out!" he sneered. "I might have suspected it!"