Melissa said, younger sister-like: ‘And we all know who he’s in love with, don’t we? Why, you’re blushing, Kate. Why’d you reckon Kate’s blushing, ma?’
‘Leave her be, child.’
Riley made his excuses and went out into the starlight. When he went into the west wing of the house, Pete wasn’t there. Of an evening, the two young men would mend gear, read, maybe play a little cards or just jaw. Sometimes, they’d just climb into their bunks and fall asleep. Each day they spent many hours in the saddle and by the time they had eaten and were relaxed they were ready for sleep. Occasionally, when they felt like letting off a little steam, they’d head for Grebb’s and a drink or three. Riley wondered about Pete, sat at the table and read by the light of the lamp. He reckoned Kate was mixed up in this somewhere. Damn the girl, he thought, why didn’t she make up her mind who she wanted?—him or Pete.
Then the thought hit Riley—maybe there was somebody else. The thought left him slightly stunned. The competition between Pete and him for Kate had become a habit it had gone on so long. That some outsider had stepped in was totally unacceptable to him. He started down a list of names, trying to discover who it could be.
Meanwhile, Pete was sitting on the top rail of the corral fence and he was thinking pretty black thoughts. Now he looked back on the incident in the hills, he reckoned he should have killed that thieving sonovabitch, Dana. He owed it to Will Storm, he owed it to Kate and he owed it to himself. Maybe he even owed it to Riley Brack, the no-good, soft-spoken, city-raised, college-educated…
He heard soft footsteps. He saw the light patch coming through the gloom that he knew was the white shirt that Kate wore. He wished then that he had stayed in his quarters. He would have been safe from her there.
She came and stood near him and he could have reached out his hand to touch her. He knew then that it had been she who kept him here, only she had stopped him from going back to the owl-hoot trail. She had stopped him, not by saying anything, but by being alive in the same world. To get Kate Storm, he had thought, you had to go straight. Which was a kind of laugh when you came to think of it. He had caught her rolling about in the grass with a noted gun-handler and horse-thief—Harvey Dana. He felt a terrible impulse to strike her.
‘Pete,’ she said, in a small voice, ‘we have to have this out in the open.’
‘You don’t mean that,’ he said. ‘We have to keep it secret.’
‘Pete, I have to know what happened back there in the hills. I know it was you. I know that you know it was me there. That’s why you made all that noise. I’ve been thinking...’
‘You ain’t the only one’s been thinkin’, girl,’ Pete said bitterly. ‘I thought an’ I thought till my head’s like to bust.’
‘I was terrified you’d kill each other.’
‘He was all set to kill me,’ Pete said. ‘But I jumped him.’
Kate’s hand went to her throat.
‘My God,’ she cried. ‘He isn’t dead.’
Pete laughed dryly.
‘Right now,’ he said, ‘he sure wishes he was.’
‘What did you do to him?’
‘I took his guns, I took his boots and I drove off his horse.’
She was aghast.
‘I knew you were mean and vicious, Pete Hasso,’ she said through her teeth, ‘but I never knew ... this is worse than murdering him.’
He dropped down from the fence and took her by the tops of her arms. He looked down into her pale face and he said: ‘What did you expect, huh? It wasn’t just you an’ him, girl. I found he’d been stealing Storm cows. You know that. I trailed them cows an’ I come on you. Just for the cows I should of put a rope around his neck. An’ you know why I didn’t do that? Because of you. He ain’t only a killer, he’s a cow-thief an’ a horse-thief.’
‘I don’t believe it. And who’re you to talk? Have you been an angel all your life? What were you before the Storms took you in?’
‘At least I behaved straight with you. You was always safe with me, Kate.’
She shrugged off his hands.
‘All right,’ she said. ‘What do you aim to do? Run with the story to my mother and father?’
‘Did I do that? I could of done that soon’s I rid in. Best I can do now is ask for my time and clear out.’
‘Maybe,’ she said. ‘that might be best for all of us.’
‘That would suit you,’ he said. ‘Jesus, I should of settled Dana’s hash when I had my gun on him.’
‘Is that all you can think of—guns?’
‘Dana lives by a gun.’
‘That’s a lie.’ She ironed the dislike and anger from her voice. It became gentle and begging. ‘Pete, I need help like I never needed it before in my life. Harvey could die out there in the hills. I don’t want him to die. Pete, I love that man.’
He looked at her incredulously.
‘You mean you’re askin’ me to help you with him?’ he asked.
‘I’m begging you.’
‘You don’t know what you’re askin’.’
‘I do. I know exactly what I’m asking. But you’re the only friend I have to turn to.’
‘I can’t do it. Hell, I owe your daddy more’n a man can say. I take his wages.’
When Pete Hasso returned to the bunkhouse, he looked ten years older. When he slumped into a chair opposite Riley Brack his eyes looked right through the other man. Riley gazed at him in wonder and concern. He’d never seen Pete look this way. Pete to him was the essence of the hard-bitten, blow-for-blow rider, a man never ruled by sentiment, a man who had survived in a hard and pitiless world.
‘For God’s sake, Pete,’ he said, ‘what happened?’
Pete focused his eyes on him.
‘Rile,’ he said slowly, ‘I have to ride. I’m askin’ you to cover for me. Will you do it?’
‘If you’re in trouble,’ Riley said, ‘let me know about it. We’ve been partners a long time now. If you can’t trust me, you can’t trust a soul.’
Pete put his elbows on the table.
‘Maybe you’re right at that,’ he said. ‘I don’t have no idee what I’m thinkin’ or feelin’. I don’t know my ass from my elbow. Rile, I shouldn’t ought to tell you, but there’s a chance I don’t come back after I go into the hills. Somebody has to know an’ you’re the best man I can tell. It’s Kate ... I know how you feel about her.’
He talked, reluctantly, but he talked. Riley didn’t say a word. Not till Pete finished. Then he said: ‘Pete, you an’ me should saddle up, find this bastard and run him clean out of the country.’
‘The only way you’ll stop him is by killin’ him. An’ we can’t do that. Not after I promised Kate.’
They talked it over a short while and then Riley went out with Pete to the corral, caught him up his night horse and saddled him. When Pete was mounted, Riley said: ‘Look out for yourself, boy. That Dana’s a rattler.’
‘I know it.’
Pete trotted off into the darkness. The idea was that, if he rode through the night, come dawn he would pick up Dana’s sign and follow it. Riley Brack walked back to the bunkhouse with great misgivings to find to his horror that Will Storm was standing at the door waiting for him.
‘Who was that rode out?’ he demanded.
Riley was taken completely aback.
‘Rode out?’ he said in confusion. ‘Did you hear somebody ride out, Mr. Storm?’
‘Sure,’ Will said, ‘I heard somebody ride out. An’ you heard somebody ride out, Brack. As you was over by the corral when they rid it stands to reason you know who it was. Right?’
‘Er—sure. Why that was old Pete, Mr. Storm. Stupid of me. I didn’t know you meant Pete. I thought you knew Pete rode out, Mr. Storm.’
‘You’re a goddam liar, boy,’ said Will quietly. ‘What in Hell goes on here? Kate comes in lookin’ like the barn just fell in on her an’ one of my hired hands rides oft without so much as a by-your-leave. Is this my outfit or ain’t it?’
‘It
’s your outfit, Mr. Storm. Nobody could deny that.’
‘Riley, tell me what goes on.’
‘Well, Mr. Brack, maybe we have been a little wrong. Well ... Pete, he thought … it was those cows he followed today.’
‘What cows?’
‘The cows he followed out through the breaks.’
‘Why in Hell should cows want to go out through the breaks? Cows stay where there’s good grass and water. They have both here.’
‘That’s the whole point, Mr. Storm. Pete followed these cows and he reckoned they were driven.’
‘You mean somebody’s stealin’ our cows?’
‘That’s what I mean, Mr. Storm, sir.’
‘I don’t get this. Not one little bit. Pete followed some cows. Right?’
‘Right.’
‘Why didn’t he tell me about them?’
‘I can’t say, Mr. Storm.’
‘But he brought them back here. Right?’
‘Right.’
‘An’ now he’s rid off in the dark. Why’d he do that?’
‘Well, Mr. Storm, sir, he reckoned he didn’t finish the chore today. He aims to pick up their sign where he found them yesterday and I daresay he’ll go after the men that stole them.’
Will held his breath a moment. It looked like this very even-tempered man was about to explode with rage.
He said: ‘This story stinks. You know that? It stinks to hell. Pete never went off this way without tellin’ me. He knows who runs this outfit. I’ve a mind to fire the young fool. An’ you too, son. You ain’t tellin’ me the hull truth. I don’t like that. But I reckon you think you’re bein’ loyal to Pete, so I’ll let it ride. You two waddies is up to somethin’. So I tell you what you do. That young fool could be ridin’ into real trouble goin’ after a bunch of cow-thieves. Now I don’t have men to spare. You know that. So, come dawn, you take your carbine an’ a pocket full of shells an’ you go git Pete outa what he got hisself into. Hear?’
‘Yessir, Mr. Storm.’
‘An’ you both come back whole or I’ll want to know why not. Now git some sleep.’
‘Yessir, Mr. Storm.’
Will Storm tramped to the other wing of the house. Inside, he said to his wife: ‘What’s a-goin’ on here, that’s what I’d like to know. You have any idea?’
‘All I know is Kate went to bed crying.’
Will shot her a look. Anything that concerned his daughter concerned him. If he was soft about anybody, it was Kate.
‘Kate in trouble?’ he asked softly.
‘And what might that mean?’ Martha demanded.
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I don’t know what anythin’ means. That’s why I’m askin’ questions. Sometimes you git answers.’
‘I think Kate’s in love.’
‘You tell me a time when she ain’t.’
‘This time it’s for real, Will,’ she said, ‘an’ it’s tearing her apart.’
‘Either of them two boys in the bunkhouse?’
‘I wish it was. They’re both fine boys.’
‘They’re damned liars—I know that,’ Will snorted.
Chapter Six
Basically, Jake Heller knew no more about play-acting than he knew how to fly. But it is amazing what a change one thousand dollars can bring about in a man. By the time he reached Denver on a very tired mule, he had thought himself into the part he had to play. His poor brain, addled by years under the broiling sun, almost believed that his dream had come true and that he was riding to the great city to leak the news of his wondrous find.
Jake hadn’t seen the city for over a year. When last he’d been there, it had been growing, wide-open and a dangerous place to move around in with a poke of gold in your clothes after dark. Now he found it the same, only more so. One of the first sights that greeted him as his mule trod the rutted streets was a man hanging by the neck from the Laramie Street Bridge. Jake accepted the sight as a man will who has seen death in many forms and proceeded on into the city that was filled to the brim with men who had found gold, men who sought gold either by digging for it or taking it from other men who had been more fortunate. There were starving men, men who ate and drank too much, quarrelsome men, traders, thieves and thugs. Hotels and rooming houses had sprung up where there had been open country before, there were stores, eating places and saloons, brothels in shanties and tents on the outskirts. Many men had built places to last. Denver was a capital and knew it. A fastidious man might have thought it an open sewer among the most magnificent scenery known to man. To Jake, so long from what he regarded as civilization, it was a wonderful place. Not for a long time had he seen so many men, and women, together in one place. The jostling crowds in the streets were something to be goggled at and he goggled. He was nearly crushed by a heavy freight wagon so little attention did he pay to where he was going.
He had luck almost at the start. A shout from the crowd and he found himself looking down into the face of a man he knew well. This was Lou Harris. They bawled greetings to each other and Harris told him he had property not a block away. His partner was looking after it while he did business in town. Jake must head there and make it his headquarters. He wouldn’t hear of Jake going any place else. So Jake headed along the street and found himself at a corral with a large legend over its gateway: Harris’s Corral. Adjoining it was a capacious barn and a building of impressive proportions. Jake surmised that Lou Harris who had lived by wits, knife and gun for a good many years had struck it rich in one way or another.
Here he found Lou’s partner, Reb Dolley. He was of Harris’ ilk and Jake knew him well. They shook and Reb had a hired man see to Jake’s mule. He then took him into his office for a drink. Reb was a man of about thirty-five. The last time Jake had seen him, he had been in rags and near-starvation. Now he was plump, well-dressed and showed the confidence of a successful man.
They looked at each other over their glasses of good whiskey and Reb said: ‘How’s it been with you, Jake?’
Jake looked around him—a man with a secret.
‘You’n Harris,’ he said, ‘was allus good friends to me, Reb. I don’t aim to tell a livin’ soul. I struck it rich.’
Eyes wide, Reb moved forward in his seat. His surprise gave way to a look of utter coyness.
‘But you ain’t sayin’ where—is that it, Jake?’ he said.
Jake grinned cunningly. ‘Wild hosses wouldn’t drag it from me.’
And that was the way it was until later that day. Lou Harris returned from down-town, heard the news and declared they must celebrate. The vote of agreement was unanimous. They gave Jake the best meal he’d had in years, took him into town and bought him some fine clothes. Then, as dusk started to fall, they made the rounds of the saloons. As he made his way further into an alcoholic haze, Jake was persuaded to show the two pokes of gold and the nugget. Lou and Reb told him to put them away quick before the sight of them aroused curiosity.
‘An’ you ain’t sayin’ where you found same?’ Lou said.
‘No, sir,’ declared Jake stoutly, leering with drunken guile. ‘The Storms’d kill me.’
Lou and Reb looked at each other. Lou shook his head and Reb took the hint. When Jake could no longer hold his head up, they carried him off to bed. They gave him the best room in the house, as befitted a potential millionaire and sat on either side of him as he lay back on the pillows.
‘The Storms’re sure a dangerous bunch,’ Lou said, ‘if they knew Jake had found gold on their land, they could sure come after him. He ain’t safe even in Denver.’
‘Who the hell’s safe in Denver, any road?’ said Reb.
‘That’s a fact.’
‘Storms?’ Jake demanded, suddenly waking up, ‘who said any thin’ about Storms?’
Reb said: ‘Why you did, Jake ol’ friend. You told us the whole story. Don’t tell us you forgot.’
Jake looked alarmed.
‘Don’t spread it around, fellers,’ he said. ‘I’m beggin’ you.’
&
nbsp; ‘What sure puzzles me,’ Lou said, ‘is how you panned for gold on Storm land an’ they never spotted you.’
Jake chuckled. ‘Up in that little old north-east corner of the valley there ain’t nothin’ but a few cows. It’s public land. I staked ’er out, boys. She’s mine.’
Lou said: ‘Jake, you need help. At a time like this a man needs real friends. Want to deal us in? Fellers could jump your claim, the Storms could run you out. Me and Reb, you know us. There ain’t nobody around that knows guns like us.’
‘That’s a fact,’ Jake agreed.
They talked, they agreed, they shook on their partnership. They all swore each other to secrecy. Lou and Reb tiptoed from the room and Jake Heller fell asleep with a smile on his face.
Jake wasn’t surprised to find in the morning that he was badly hungover. He accepted that philosophically. He also accepted the fact that the hired man in the barn informed him that he had been left in charge while Harris and Dolley had lit out for parts unknown. They had taken with them their two best saddlers and a packhorse carrying a week’s supplies. Jake walked into town for a hair-of-the-dog and ruminated that luck had taken him straightway to two of the stinkingest polecats Denver held. And that was saying something.
During that morning, he drank in some half-dozen saloons and, as luck would have it, he found in each one of them old friends whom he at once swore to secrecy and furtively showed the gold. He didn’t, he declared, with a wonderful show of virtue, want to hog it all to himself. There was enough there for him and a good friend. Each man swore he wouldn’t tell a soul. Each man went off to raise him a stake and, in doing so, had to tell of Jake Heller’s wonderful find.
In the afternoon, Jake saddled the mule and hit the trail for Leadville. There were a lot of men up that way and he reckoned that he had accomplished what Ed Brack had paid him for long before he made Leadville. During the evening, he returned to Denver, bought himself a stout little burro, loaded it with supplies and, under cover of dark, went quietly away into the hills.
Around about the same time, a number of other men, who in some way had information about a miraculous discovery of gold in the Three Creeks country of Colorado, also slipped away from the city as inconspicuously as they could, heading south as if they were evading the law. Which, of course, a number of them may well have been. Some had given out the word that they were heading west toward the Utah line, others that they knew for sure that gold had been found in Idaho. Also at that time, there were men who were leaving their own unsatisfactory diggings in the region of the Leadville road and heading south with all the speed at their command, at last convinced that they had some authentic information straight from the horse’s mouth and that after some days toiling through the mountains they would find a fortune at their feet. The utmost speed was essential on two grounds—one, they had to stake a claim before others did; two, they had to dig a fortune from the ground before winter came upon them.
Battle Fury Page 4
