by A. J. Arnold
Diamond decided to head back for Jake and Russ, taking his time. No matter how thirsty, he’d hold up longer and so would his gelding if they didn’t push. Jake could manage Russ alone as long as he had to. And at this point Diamond couldn’t do anything about his cattle until tomorrow. At least, he knew, the critters had been running in the direction of Kansas and home.
Late in the day man and horse came upon a little shade and some grass. Diamond stretched out for better than an hour while Bones nibbled on the sparse graze.
Then they moved on. It was full dark when they rode into the box canyon. Diamond saw a fire where the outlaws had made their camp. Suddenly he just didn’t want to face any other human being.
Diamond dismounted and led Bones quietly to the water. While the horse drank, his rider looked toward the fire. Startled, he realized that too many men were in the camp.
He doubted Russ would be on his feet. But even if he was, he and Strickland made two. In the flickering light, Diamond saw three men. The sight shocked him right out of his heavy thoughtful mood.
His fatigue and hunger forgotten, he dropped Bones’s reins on the ground and walked toward the fire. The men there obviously didn’t expect anyone else. Although Diamond couldn’t make out their words, their tone spoke disagreement. Because they were busy with that, he slipped up until he was just out of the light of the flames.
The first person he recognized was Sean O’Malley. The breed stood across the fire facing Diamond, and to Sean’s right was a short heavy-set man in his mid-twenties. Diamond didn’t know him. The other was in the shadows to Sean’s left. Something about this last man bothered Diamond.
Jake and Russ were on the ground behind the half-breed as he talked.
“Mister, I don’t know who you are. But I sure as hell wouldn’t want to be in your shoes when my boss finds out what you want. Come here planning to buy his cattle from the dead men that stole ’em.”
The man in the shadows answered, and Diamond knew at once what had bothered him.
Glenn Saltwell said, “I’m not very concerned. I’ve never seen a rancher I couldn’t handle. Just who is your boss, anyway?”
Sean opened his mouth, but Diamond beat him to a response. “His boss is right here, Glenn. You got any other questions?”
The people around the fire froze, then Saltwell broke the spell by taking a step forward toward the newcomer.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Glenn’s stance said his curiosity would hold him but a short space. That he was ready, even eager, for a draw.
Around the same lazy smile that Diamond remembered all too well, Saltwell said, “I’ll stick by my first question—you got a name? I don’t recall seeing your face before.”
Something about the balance in this little fireside scene picked at Diamond. What did Glenn know that he didn’t? Strange, too, that Jake Strickland was on the ground. With a fight coming, he’d be on his feet and fast, if he could. His injury alone wasn’t bad enough to keep him down.
Diamond also wondered whose side Russ would be on. A quick glance showed him that O’Malley’s holster was empty. Jake must have been disarmed as well. Now even more unsure of Russ, he darted a look at him and found him awake and alert.
He said to Saltwell in a dry tone, “I’m hurt you don’t know me, Glenn. I sure remember you.”
Diamond’s brain worked all the while. The odds were two to one against him. His own position wasn’t the best, either. He was fronting Saltwell, all right, but he could hardly see the other man out of the corner of his left eye.
He addressed the old rustler chief again. “You’re the son-of-a-bitch that made me into an outlaw.”
Diamond watched the expression on Glenn’s face. He couldn’t detect any sign of recognition, but he wanted his former boss to remember. With persistence he supplied the details in order.
Glenn’s look changed from disbelief to questioning as Diamond hurried on.
”Then you talked me into helping you drive a bunch of stolen cattle up to Dodge. Only I didn’t know the herd wasn’t yours until we were in The Strip.”
Glenn’s face suddenly showed his certainty. “Christ!” he laughed with a short, gruff bark.
”You were so green, I knew you were running from something. If it was the law, I could’ve told you they never looked outside of town in those days. Hell, if you’d told me that back then, I’d never have believed you had guts enough to kill a man.”
”I didn’t know Red Pierce was dead then. Found it out later, much later.”
Diamond tried to keep track of the other rustler without dulling his awareness of Saltwell. He figured he had to make his play now.
“That kid got the green knocked out of him,” Diamond said. “But nothing’s changed what I feel about you, Glenn. I still hate your guts. I don’t have to take water from any man these days, and I think I can beat you to a gun. You once said you could give me a head start and still get two slugs in me before I cleared leather. Well, here’s your chance to prove it. You tell your friend over there to hold off, and we’ll find out.”
The slow snakelike grin wriggled over Glenn’s features. “Any time you’re ready. Only don’t count on Harve to stay out. He’ll do whatever he thinks best, like jumping in to help me even if I don’t need it. Nothing wrong with insurance, is there? But even if he stays put, I can still take you.”
”Don’t be too sure,” Diamond gritted out. “I’ve not been wet behind the ears for a long time. I told you way back in Dodge that some day I’d cut you down. That day has come, Glenn. Even if you and Harve both clear leather before me, I’ll still kill you.”
His eyes were treacherous, like an iced-over stream. “I shot three or four men and one damned good horse today already. If I die taking you out, it won’t be more than I got coming.”
Saltwell’s smile dropped away and his face went a little pale.
“By God!” he gasped. “Somebody poured sand in where the green used to be.”
All four men who were standing started their move at the same time. Sean launched himself at Harve, but the first shot came from Diamond’s left, and behind the half-breed.
Diamond triggered next. The lead entered Saltwell’s chest half an inch to the left of the middle button on his vest. Glenn’s slower shot kicked dust up between Diamond’s feet. The fourth, like an afterthought, came from Harve’s forty-five. It split the night air without harm.
Diamond watched a play of emotions alter Glenn’s face. First, the quick stab of pain, then surprise followed by disbelief. He fell forward and lay still. As the accompanying black and heavy feeling threatened to engulf Diamond, he knew he had to do something.
He thought of Sean, unarmed, hurling himself at Harve, and he turned to make sure the breed was all right. O’Malley sat on the ground, staring up at his boss with astonishment. He opened his mouth but nothing came out, so he swallowed hard and tried again.
“Mr. Diamond, I—uh—how’d you ever draw that fast?”
Diamond ignored him and demanded, “Are you hurt?”
Sean shook his head, speechless again.
“Then disarm Harve, here, and see if you can bandage his shoulder. He seems to be losing some blood.”
He reached to give Sean a hand up. Their eyes met, the dwindling camp flame reflecting in them. Cold fire glittered in Diamond’s.
“And while you work on him, you’d better think up a good excuse to give me. I told you to stay at the ranch and take care of things while we were gone.”
O’Malley started to sputter, but Diamond turned away and went to the two still on the ground. Even now Russ hung onto the sixgun that had started the fray, wounding Harve and saving his former riding mate. But it was Strickland who spoke first.
“If you’d untie my hands I’d sure appreciate it, pard.”
Diamond stared at the weapon still in his own hand, dropped it into the holster, and knelt by Jake.
“How you doing? You get any more wounds before they tied you up?�
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“Naw,” he said sheepishly, and Diamond knew, even in the near dark, that Jake’s big square face had gone red.
“They got the drop on me and the kid without firing a single shot.”
Diamond stood, making no comment.
Strickland sat up and rubbed one wrist, then the other.
“Thanks.”
Diamond moved on to Russ. “How about you? Seems like you’re improved since I saw you last. Doesn’t seem possible it was only this morning.”
“Yeah, I know. I passed out whilest your man, there, was atryin’ to tie my hair back on. But when I came to, the job was done. Reckon I’m back to normal now, ’cept I can’t rightly see straight for the head pains.”
“You saw straight enough when the shooting started,” Diamond observed.
“Guess some thanks are in order, because I had to question which side you’d choose up with.”
“Well, I never did take to that Harve. Always a-tryin’ to make out he was somebody. Got to confess, though, I never could’ve shot Glenn. He was straight with me, even if not with nothin’ nor nobody else. But for Harve, it was pure pleasure. ’Sides, I owed you one.”
They moved, simultaneously, to shake hands. Both knew they were doing more than just burying the past. When Diamond looked up, he saw Sean standing near.
“Boss, the reason I left the ranch and come here—”
Suddenly Diamond didn’t want to hear it. He spoke fast and short.
“Sean, I never in my life asked another man to take care of my horse. But I’m breaking that rule now. I left Bones over by the water hole. Go get him for me.”
Sean hesitated. “Sure,” he said, turning toward the stream.
Nobody even heard him.
Next morning, Diamond was the first up. He hadn’t slept. After the others had settled down, the black mood came on him again. He’d lain all night thinking on the men he’d killed, and trying to find a way out from under the load of guilt he felt.
It wouldn’t wash. Things he’d learned as a boy in Sunday school, things his ma said from out of the Bible came to haunt him. Not to mention his own oath to God on the day of his hanging. His promise to be an honest man. But was being honest the same as not killing, or was it different? He wasn’t sure.
Diamond at least took a little solace from knowing that he’d planned and tried to get his cattle back without bloodshed. But the fact remained that not only had he killed, he’d deliberately practiced shooting fast and straight.
Still, if he hadn’t prepared, he’d be dead. It had been kill or be killed. He was alive now, and his enemies were not. Would it somehow be better if he was the one waiting to be buried, and the outlaws were doing the honor?
No, Diamond had to tell himself. No, he had to believe it was a good deal better that he and his men had lived while Saltwell and his had died. He sat pondering as he sipped hot coffee from a tin.
Diamond watched the sky over the ridge to the east go from blue-black to light gray to pearl tinged with yellow. When finally there came a broad band of brilliant pink, he got up and rummaged through the rustlers’ gear. He found a short-handled spade and went out to dig graves.
Sean O’Malley found him at the burial site a time later. Silently, the breed pitched in to the dirty task. Diamond felt more than once that Sean was going to speak, but each time he turned away and worked himself into a lather to avoid conversation.
In the end, he had to give in. The breed’s urgency to explain himself was great, and Diamond knew he had a whole lifetime to learn to carry his burden.
He threw the spade out of the hole and said, “Let’s get something to drink, and breathe a spell.”
O’Malley climbed out, watching him. “Boss, I got to tell you this. I left the Running Diamond in good hands. A couple of days after you left, Tom Dobbins come out. I told him everything. He said you and Jake’d no doubt get the cattle back, but you’d sure need help drivin’ ’em back to our range.”
Diamond took it in without comment. Since his look was not disapproving, Sean went on.
“Tom said he’d tend the place ’til we got back. So I come to help, but I had a bad time for to find you. I’d still be lookin’ for the trail if our cows hadn’t busted up over a ridge and damn’ near knocked me down. I—I didn’t know what to do ’til they would stop running. So I let ’em head on for home and I backtracked ’em. Then I found Jake and a whole lot of bodies.”
Sean stared, and Diamond stared back. Suddenly the picture of O’Malley, half Indian, losing the trail and O’Malley, half cowboy, getting all but trampled by his own ranch’s herd, was too much. Diamond grinned, and before he could hold it in, a deep chuckle rumbled out.
The breed looked, by degrees, puzzled, insulted, then relieved for the boss not to be angry. Finally he saw the humor and began to laugh. Sean and Diamond fell on their knees, holding their middles and guffawing at each other.
Jake let them run down before he called them in to breakfast.
When everybody finished eating, he said, “Now, if you two hyenas are through laughing, we better plant these stiffs. Some of ’em’s been dead since this time yesterday. We don’t get ’em underground soon, they’re going to stink.”
Diamond and Sean quickly agreed, and they all set to work. Glenn Saltwell and four of his men went into a common grave. After the grave was filled Jake had a question.
“What about this Harve fellow, pard? Figure you’ll not hang him, else you’d have done it first and buried him along with the others.”
Diamond shot Strickland a glare that could have killed as he turned his back. For the first time that day, he looked at the one remaining rustler. Harve was pasty. All he’d wanted for breakfast was coffee. His right arm rested in a sling made of two bandannas.
“Harve,” Diamond asked, with no give in his question, “can you sit a horse?”
The answer came back strong and clear. “Yeah, sure I can.”
“I got nothing against you, only being with Saltwell. I don’t know if you ever went with Glenn on one of his raids or not. But if you’ll help us round up our cattle and get them home, I’ll pay you wages. Then you can go your own way, just so long as it’s not in Kansas.”
Harve didn’t even blink as he nodded his acceptance. Diamond felt satisfied and turned to the other problems.
“Russ? I doubt you could herd beef with that head you’re toting.”
“Well, maybe not, but I can take care of camp chores. By the time the rest of you get the gatherin’ done, I’ll be able to ride point. I know this country better’n all of you.”
Diamond looked at Russ. He saw his old riding partner, a man used to a hard life, telling him he could endure this one more thing.
“Good enough,” Diamond said, and made to walk away. But Russ restrained him.
“Boss?”
He stopped short. This man had never known him as Diamond, never knew about his place. ‘Boss’ meant he was ready to start new from here.
“Boss, all them years I rode with Glenn, I kept on a-foolin’ myself. Kept a-sayin’ how’s I’d get a stake together and quit and go straight. But every time I’d get a little coin, it’d just disappear. Some to liquor, most over some poker table. I’d like to try a-ridin’ for you and not expect to get rich quick.”
“We can use another man,” Diamond said, slapping a hand on Russ’s shoulder.
“Do what you can to help Jake get the camp moved east. Sean, Harve, and I’ll go on ahead and start rounding up the cattle.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The time dragged long, spent in hard riding. They worked until they could no longer see by daylight. The dark hours were broken as each man took his turn riding night guard. The whole period reminded Diamond of his long trail drive up from Texas with Russ and the rest of the crew that had made up Glenn Saltwell’s gang of rustlers.
He reflected on all that had happened to him since he had left home. He’d learned a lot—some good, some bad. Diamond wondered if
the hard schooling was over now. Somehow he didn’t think so. He couldn’t have said why he felt that way, but some things didn’t set like they should. He considered whether he’d ever feel right until Henry Blough and Wide Loop Thompson knew who he was, and he could clear the name of Buckow.
The process of gathering the scattered cattle accomplished some other things for the Running Diamond men. They learned that the five hundred-odd head over their own breeding stock were branded mostly with Thompson’s Double P., and the rest, Blough’s Standing Arrow.
As they gained a good many miles eastward toward their home range, Diamond felt how fast a man could tire. Again he thought fleetingly of his coming up from Texas, only this time he was working for himself. Not even that brash kid, Sean O’Malley, had questioned any of his decisions. In the past Sean had plagued him with why’s, as if starving to know his boss’s way of thinking. Yet he hadn’t questioned an order in days, and he took Diamond by surprise one night while they were eating around the campfire.
“Mr. Diamond, why not let me take the middle watch this time? You’ve had that one every night. It don’t seem right, you always bein’ the man to have to sleep in two different hitches.”
Diamond looked up quickly, glad to see a flash of the old Sean.
“Well, first off, I just plain like the middle of the night. The cattle are settled and rarely cause any trouble, so it gives me a chance to think. And second, it’s only fair for me to be the one to have his sleep broken. After all, I got the biggest stake in this herd.”
A dam had broken for the younger cowboy. “What are we goin’ to do with all these Pied Piper and Standing Arrow cattle?”
Diamond frowned, his forehead creasing. “I’ve been studying on that, Sean. Best I can come up with is for all of us to start cutting out any cattle that are not wearing a Running Diamond brand. Leave them behind whenever we get a chance.”
“But, Boss. If we was to take them critters back to where they belong, wouldn’t that help patch things up between our outfit and theirs?”
