Clymer shook his head. "We shall deny no man a right to defend himself, Mr. Levitt. We are here only to ascertain the facts. Moreover, we must examine the prisoner in connection with the killing of Kerb Dahl.
What have you to say to that, Canavan?"
"I should welcome an inquiry into the matter, sir.
However, it is impossible to form a judgment without considering what happened before that shooting took place."
"That's reasonable enough," Clymer said. "Go ahead"
Levitt's lips tightened and his nostrils flared with anger. Voyle had come into the back of the room with Syd Berdue and they stood there, surveying the crowd. With them was the silent man who seemed to be Dahl's partner.
"I just want to ask Mr. Levitt how many cowhands he had when he rode into this country," Canavan suggested mildly.
Star was puzzled, but wary. "What difference does it make?"
"Please answer the question, Mr. Levitt,"
Clymer suggested. "We are simply trying to arrive at the facts, and if the matter can be settled here, it will save us all a lot of trouble."
"How many hands, Levitt? You used the W spread but how many hands did you have?"
"Why only one man actually came to the Valley with me," Levitt said. The question puzzled him, and what puzzled him disturbed him.
"That one man was the short, dark man now standing at the back of the room, wasn't it? The man called Turner?"
"That's right."
Canavan turned suddenly in his chair, to face Dahl's partner. "Turner, what's a piggin string?"
"What?" Turner was startled. He started to speak, then stopped, irritated at the sudden attention and a little frightened.
"I asked what a piggin string was?"
Turner glanced from one side to the other, as if seeking a way out. He wet his lips. Then shrugged.
"I don't know. What difference does it make?"
"This makes no sense at all!" Levitt protested.
"Let's get on with the hearing!"
"Turner, what's a grulla?"
"Lay off," Turner said angrily. "I've no part in all this."
Canavan turned back to Clymer. "You, sir, were brought up on a cow ranch, or so I hear. You know that a piggin string is a short piece of rope or rawhide used to tie a crittur's legs when it's been thrown.
You also know that a grulla is a kind of mouse-colored horse, usually a mustang.
"The point I'm getting at; and maybe I haven't made it too well, is that Levitt came into this country with one man who wasn't a cowhand. Turner doesn't know the first thing about a ranch or about cattle, except what he might have picked up since he came to this Valley."
"What's that got to do with it?" Levitt demanded.
Clymer was sitting back in his chair, obviously enjoying the discussion. He began to smile as if he anticipated the reply and the next question.
"Why, just this, Levitt. I'm right curious as to how many head of cattle you brought into the Valley, and how many head you have now."
Somebody out in the room grunted, and Scott was smiling. The question caught Levitt flat-footed, and Clymer sensed it. "That's a very good question, Mr.
Levitt. On the way over here, you told me you ran about a thousand head. Where did you get them?"
Levitt held himself very still, thinking rapidly and cursing himself for bragging to Clymer. He had thought to give him the opinion that he, Levitt, was a substantial citizen, based on the idea that the law was not prepared to suspect a rich manor to move against him even if he was suspected.
"This is getting far from the subject," he replied cooly. "We actually came here to investigate a murder, committed by Canavan here. Now it begins to appear that I am on trial, not the murderer."
"On the contrary, Mr. Levitt, we came down here to investigate a multiple shooting, and the events that led to it, and to try to put a stop to what might develop as a result. The shooting of Kerb Dahl, as Canavan so rightly suggests, is only one aspect of it"
"I believe the question I have asked," Canavan said quietly, "must be asked. Before we can arrive at any conclusions, we must know what the issues are.
"Mr. Levitt here admits arriving in the country with only one man, one who is not a cowhand. No two such men could bring a thousand head of cattle into this or any other valley.
"However, I believe Levitt does have many cattle under his brand, and every brand has been worked over."
"That's a lie!" Levitt protested.
Canavan settled back in his chair. "Now ask me about the killing of Kerb Dahl," he suggested.
Star Levitt fought back his fury. This was a situation he had never wanted to develop. He had not planned it this way. It had seemed a simple task to bring the law to the Valley. And then, with the shooting of Dahl to build around, to incriminate Canavan, clearing himself and his men and then remaining in possession of the best ranch land in the Valley.
Invited to question Canavan about the shooting, he leaped at the opportunity. But before he could phrase his first question, Clymer interrupted.
"Canavan, if, as you suggest, Mr. Levitt has many misbranded cattle, and you maintain that neither he nor Turner are cattlemen, who did the branding?"
"Kerb Dahl, the man with whom I had the gunfight on the W, Voyle of the Box n, Tolman who was hired by Levitt, and Emmett Chubb, among others."
"That's absurd!" Levitt protested contemptuously.
Canavan turned to look at Dixie for the first time.
"Miss Venable, will you name the men who met at Thousand Springs?"
The question caught her by surprise. Dixie glanced at him and her eyes wavered. Of course, she had no idea she had been observed. And before Levitt could catch her eye she said, "Why, Dahl was there, and Voyle, Tolman and Syd Berdue."
"What did they talk about?"
Levitt was straining forward in his chair, his eyes upon her. Dixie glanced at him, and her eyes wavered. "Why, I-was Her voice trailed off.
"Before you answer," Canavan said quietly, "let me tell you that you and your brother have been the victims of one of the foulest tricks ever played.
And this is your time to become free again."
Canavan turned to Clymer. "Sir, Miss Venable was concealed near the Springs and overheard some conversation between the men mentioned. These were the same men who altered the brands for Levitt.
Through them, Levitt engineered and planned the fight between the two major outfits, forcing the issue between Pogue and Reynolds. In that battle he arranged to have the two men who would oppose him in his takeover of the Valley ranches. It will no doubt strike you that among the survivors of the fight at the branding pens were all the men seen at the Springs by Miss Venable. And also seen by myself, incidentally-
"Also," he added, "Levitt was blackmailing the Venables, using their ranch as a storage depot and transfer point for his opium trade."
Levitt half-started to his feet, then sat down.
His face showed the shock of the sudden exposure, but he was thinking swiftly, trying to find the right words to answer the charges and to turn them against Canavan. He still could not believe his plans had gone awry, that all his months of scheming and working and moving his men like pawns on a chessboard had been for nothing.
Canavan came to his feet, his ringing voice reducing to silence the sudden stir in the room. "Furthermore, I think this is the proper time to make certain other points clear." Opening his shirt he drew a leather wallet from inside it, and from the wallet took a handful of papers which he passed to Clymer. "Will you tell Mr. Levitt," he said, "what you have here?"
Clymer glanced at the papers, then looked up astonished. "Why, these are deeds!" he exclaimed, glancing from Canavan to Levitt. These indicate that Mr. Canavan is the owner of both the Hitson Springs and the Bullhorn ranch headquarters, including their water rights. Also, these papers indicate that Mr.
Canavan has also filed on the Thousand Springs area!"
"Who?" Star Levitt's fingers gripped th
e arms of his chair and he half-rose. His plans ... All those carefully worked out plans were for nothing ... had always been for nothing. Whoever controlled water from those three sources controlled the Valley range, nor was there any way of circumventing it Pogue and Reynolds, whom he had destroyed, had never been the enemy. They had never owned anything, and had no more than a squatter's-rights claim on anything. He had not only been beaten, he had been made to look ridiculous.
"I told you," Canavan said quietly, "that you had overlooked the obvious. Somehow men of your stripe always do.
"Now, sir," Canavan continued. "With the cattle brands I can show you one has only to skin a steer and look at the reverse side of the hide to see how they have been altered. I think you will understand what happened here.
"Star Levitt was anxious to get Miss Venable away, not only because he feared for her life when the shooting began, but because he did not want a witness to what was about to take place.
"Chubb picked a fight with young Riggs, and that shot was to open it. All of Levitt's men had pulled back into position, most of them with rifles. And when Chubb shot Riggs, that was the signal And they opened up, killing Reynolds, Pogue, and whoever might oppose them or be witnesses."
"And you?" Clymer asked.
"I warned Mabry, and we got the hell out of there. We were supposed to be killed, too, but we got away. We had no part in the fight, and at that moment I did not actually know there was to be any shooting ... I believed it, but I did not know. In any event, neither Pogue nor Reynolds would have believed me. They were so filled with jealousy and hatred of each other that they were blind to all else."
There was a slight stir at the back of the room, and glancing around, Canavan saw Emmett Chubb slipping out.
Star Levitt sat very still, his mind a blank. All his carefully thought out plans had been for nothing.
He had been so sure, so confident. Now he had been shown up for both a fool and a murderer by the cowhand he despised. The name of murderer he could accept, but that of fool he could not.
Suddenly the rage that was in him exploded to madness. His face went white. His eyes bulging and glassy, he leaped from his chair and sprang for Canavan.
Warned by Dixie's scream, Bill Canavan jerked his eyes back from the vanishing Chubb and lunged to his feet to meet Levitt. Levitt's swinging right caught him on the cheek-bone and he staggered, driven back by the force of the larger man's onslaught.
Bracing himself, he ducked under a left and swung a hard right to the body, but Levitt was insane with fury and frustration, and he came in swinging with both fists. Canavan buried a right in his mid-section, then hooked a bone-jarring left to the face.
Levitt clubbed a right to the back of the neck, but Canavan, veteran of many a rough-and-tumble cow-camp or mining-camp brawl, pulled his head away and bored in, smashing at Levitt's body with both fists. Levitt broke away, stabbed a left to the face and crossed with a right He was enormously powerful, yet a man who had boxed as well, and he knew what he was about.
Canavan hit him again under the heart and, putting his head against Levitt's chest, backed him up several steps with powerful blows to the head and body. He felt Levitt's chin on his head, and jerked his own head up hard, butting him under the chin.
Suddenly, Levitt abandoned slugging and grappled with Canavan where he could use his strength to great advantage. Clasping his hands behind Canavan's back, he ground his knuckles into Canavan's spine.
Canavan felt himself bent backward, further and further back. He felt a stab of excruciating pain, and in desperation he kicked up his feet and fell backward, bringing Levitt down on top of him. The sudden fall broke Levitt's hold, which was what he had hoped, and Canavan broke free, rolled over and came to his feet. He took a smashing blow to the head that staggered him. He felt his knees sag, but threw himself to the side to avoid the rush. Levitt leaped high and jumped to come down on his chest with both heels, but Canavan rolled over and kicked out hard with both boots. The kick caught Levitt on the thighs and knocked him off-balance. He fell hard, but started to his feet and was only half up when Canavan's right caught him in the mouth, knocking him back, his lips smashed into a bloody pulp mingled with fragments of broken teeth.
Canavan heard the sharp rap of a shot, and then another, but he was totally engrossed. Levitt plunged at him in a long driving tackle. Canavan lifted a knee in his face but went down himself.
Both men got up and Canavan, his endurance built from long hours in the saddle wrestling heavy steers, and working hard with his hands, was in the better shape. He moved in fast, stabbed a left to the face, then a right to the body. Levitt's breath was coming in great gasps. A right split his cheek, a left widened the cut. Suddenly, he turned and leaped through the window into the alley. Canavan caught a fleeting glimpse of Emmett Chubb with two horses.
And then Chubb fired, and a bullet clipped the window frame behind his head, splattering him with stinging splinters. And then they were gone.
A clatter of hoofs, and only silence.
Scott moved up to him and held out his guns. "I wanted to get them to you sooner, but there was no chance."
Clymer put a hand on his shoulder. "You've loyal friends, Canavan. Burt and Mabry stopped the stage outside of town after Levitt rode on ahead.
They took time to tell me a lot of things and to suggest that we get you, Levitt and the Venables together and withhold judgment until you had talked."
He shrugged. "It so happens that Neal and I were both raised on stock ranches, and Mabry had worked for both outfits at one time or another, so we knew him for a good man and an honest one. So we had some doubts as to Levitt's story. Mabry had a cowhide with him, and any western man could see that the brand had been altered from a W to a Three Diamonds.
"Just for the record, however, what happened with Kerb Dahl?"
"I was suspicious about the unoccupied cabin on the W that was always watched, so I went there.
I found a cache of opium ... a considerable amount, actually. I hoped to have a word with Dixie Venable, and went down to the house. Returning, I came face to face with Dahl, and he asked me for a light, and then recognized me almost at once. We both went for our guns."
"He was said to be very good," Neal put in, curiously.
"Maybe he was. I never set myself up for a gunfighter although I've used guns all my life. But you know how it is. For every known gunfighter around, there are a dozen men who are just as good whom you've never heard of. Maybe he was a mite slow that night, maybe I was a little faster."
Later, Bill Canavan looked around for Dixie. She was standing outside the Cattleman's Cafe. He crossed over to where she stood. "Dixie? Why don't you go inside and order some coffee? I'll be along in a few minutes, and I'd like to talk to you."
"Bill? Be careful. He's filled with hatred, and he will not stop until he has killed you, or tried to. Be very careful."
Mabry, Burt and Scott were waiting when he turned around, and they had his Appaloosa. "We can catch "em, boss," Burt suggested, "but they've got quite a start."
"Later. I heard some shooting. What happened?"
"Voyle. He made a rush for his horse, tryin" to get away, an' he ran into Roily. He figured Roily would try to stop him so he grabbed for his gun, and he wasn't nearly so good as he thought"
"Tolman?"
"Roped an' hog-tied. The Rangers picked him up, and they got Turner, too. That Turner ... no sand.
He's been talkin' a'ready, enough to hang Levitt "Incidentally, I wanted to tell you about Scott an' Kinney. I ain't had time to talk to Scott, but I know what happened and how it happened. We moved down to May's like you said, and we seen you follered to Scott's by some of Levitt's outfit, so they had you pegged.
"They had us outnumbered and whilst we were tryin' to figure out what to do, Kinney came along. He said if he butted in he might keep you from being killed.
That was my idea, too," Scott said. "When I let you in I saw there was somebody else out there, and
had they been friendly they'd have come forward. So I seen that I had to make you my prisoner or they'd have us both, and as my prisoner I could protect you ... up to a point."
"So Levitt, Chubb and Berdue are still loose?"
Mabry shook his head, with irritation. "That isn't good, either, Canavan. Because if I know that lot, they'll not rest until they came back and kill you.
You're going to have to be careful, take nothing for granted, and go armed and ready."
Yet as the days found their way down the year, and the summer faded toward autumn, there was no further sign of the three missing men. The mornings became chill and the aspen leaves turned from green to gold, mingled with the red of oak and sumac. The view from the growing house on the mesa changed, and sometimes in the early morning there was frost upon the grass.
A bank was robbed, then a stage looted and three men killed at Canyon Pass. And one passenger who survived had recognized one of the bandits as Emmett Chubb. Then the marshal in Pie Town was killed when he attempted to question a big, powerful man with a beard.
When Dixie rode through the Valley, Bill Canavan was constantly at her side, and the Appaloosa and Flame became companions. Despite the fact that few reports came from the three men, Canavan was worried.
"Bill," Dixie said, "you promised to take me to the crater in the lava beds. Why not today?"
He hesitated, thinking uneasily of the trail into the lava beds. "That place has me buffaloed," he admitted.
"I never go in there but I wish that I was out.
The way those big rocks hang over the trail will scare the daylights out of you. If one of them ever fell while we were in there, we'd likely never get out"
"At least we'd be together." she reminded.
"That is an attraction," he admitted, "but I'd not want you confined in there all your life. Out here you can see a few other folks once in a while."
"But you've been there so many times, Bill! And Roily tells me it is perfectly beautiful.
I want to see the ice caves."
Below them there was a faint rumbling in the mountain, and they exchanged a glance. "I'm getting used to it now," he admitted. "But when I first heard it, that rumbling gave me the chills. When we move into the house, we'll have those holes fenced. They are really dangerous."
Where the Long Grass Blows (1976) Page 15