The Tylers 1

by Neil Hunter

I rolled onto my back. Bright sunlight dazzled my eyes, then it was blocked out as Lyons’ body swung into my vision. I saw him lift a boot, ready to stomp my face. I threw up my hands, caught his boot and wrenched hard. Lyons spun out of sight and I let his motion pull me off my back. I hung on to his boot as I came to my feet, then twisted it hard. Lyons had to go with it or let me break his leg. He went with it and hit the ground hard.

  I moved in fast, knowing now that he would give me little chance to get any advantage over his size and weight. I stayed to one side until he started to get up, then I moved in and hit him with everything I had. I hit his face and his body, driving him to his feet, forcing him back. The crowd parted, letting us through until we were in the middle of the street. Lyons took it all, took some hard punishment, his face turning raw and bloody as I hammered at it.

  I fared little better myself, for though I handed it out to Lyons, he gave back just as well. My body became one bruised ache, my face felt swollen out of all proportion. I could taste blood in my mouth. One eye was almost closed.

  I realized that the way things were going we were liable to beat each other to death. Lyons was the sort who would never give up and I never knew when to quit.

  But it was Lyons who almost finished it for me. Of a sudden he stopped throwing punches. I had no time to figure out why, for he suddenly threw himself at me and wrapped his great arms around me. I felt my breath being cut off as he squeezed, felt my ribs move. Lyons arched his back, lifting me off the ground. I found myself practically helpless in his grip. He had my arms trapped at my sides. There seemed little I could do. I could feel a surging in my head, an increasing pounding, and I knew that if I didn’t do something soon I would pass out.

  My legs were free and I figured them to be my only chance. I drew my right leg back and then drove my knee up into Lyons’ groin, putting as much force into it that I could. Lyons gasped. His grip slackened for a moment, then he put on the pressure again. I used my knee again, and again, driving at him hard. Lyons hung on for as long as he could, then he let go, a pained sound coming from him.

  As my feet hit the ground I staggered, reeling for a moment. My arms felt weak, limp. I worked them, trying to restore the circulation. I kept my eyes on Lyons all the time. He was doubled over, clutching himself, but I knew that as long as he was on his feet he was dangerous.

  He moved suddenly, his right hand reaching down to his boot, then coming up and forward. I saw something flash in the sunlight and a coldness hit my stomach as I laid my eyes on the object.

  Many men can face a gun and can take it as such but when a knife is produced there comes a moment of something close to panic, a feeling of complete nakedness. Maybe it is the sight of cold, hard steel, the downright deadliness of an exposed blade. Whatever it is I always get that feeling when I see one being used in anger. I’ve seen what a knife can do to a man and I figure that if I ever had to choose, I’d rather be shot.

  I watched Tall Lyons and his knife now and knew that if I made one mistake it would be my last. Lyons would have no second thoughts about using the weapon on me, I knew that. I was going to need to move carefully and when I moved I would have no room for mistakes.

  Lyons came at me suddenly, his knife held low, blade turned so that the cutting edge lay uppermost. He moved fast, crouching slightly, his body weaving from side to side.

  I kept my eyes on that knife, knowing that if I missed nothing else would matter. I was tense, my body tight as a drum skin. I’d chosen to deal myself into this game and now I was having to face the showdown. I was scared but in no way ready to give up. I had too much to live for, too much to look forward to.

  As Tall Lyons got close I moved, stepping in close, so that I got inside the range of his knife. It meant that for a moment he had to pause, to change his direction. It was all the time I needed. As I stepped in I turned my body, slamming my right hip into him and catching his knife-wrist with both hands. It meant that my back was to him but I had his knife in sight and partly under control.

  We struggled for a moment. Lyons threw his left arm around my neck, trying for a strangle-hold. I shoved my chin down on my chest, keeping him from my throat and then I hung on.

  As we wrestled together I was working on Lyons’ knife-wrist. I wanted that knife out of the way. Lyons was just as determined to keep it and for a time we were at a stalemate. Then I managed to get my right hand and arm beneath Lyons’ arm. I caught my own left wrist with my right hand, and using a lever action against Lyons’ elbow joint, I put on some pressure. Lyons was a strong man. He took a lot before I even got a reaction. But then I heard him gasp, felt his arm slacken on my neck. I gave his arm another few pounds of pressure and this time he gave a grunt of pain. He struggled some but I had him now, and the more he struggled, the worse the effect on his arm. He held out for a little longer. He must have realized that I was in a position to break his arm if I took a mind to. I saw his fingers loosen the knife. It dropped at my feet and I kicked it aside.

  I still had Lyons in my grip but I knew that the moment I let him go he would be at me again. There would be no giving up, no quitting.

  Letting go of his wrist with my left hand I drove my left elbow back into his stomach. I drove it hard, catching him unprepared. Lyons gave a startled gasp. I spun away from him, turning to face him. He was wide-eyed, his face pale. I’d really caught him where it hurt. I stepped in fast, wanting to finish this thing now. I hit him hard, solid blows that drove the breath from his body before he could recover. Then I hit him across the jaw, a hard blow that laid him out on his back in the dust. He landed hard and lay where he’d fallen.

  Of a sudden I felt weak and sick. My face and body hurt. I could taste blood and sweat. I felt like I wanted to lie down next to Lyons.

  Then Crown was at my side. ‘You alright, Brig?’

  I glanced at him, grinning crookedly. ‘I think so.’

  ‘You had me worried for a minute or two,’ he said.

  ‘How the hell do you think I felt?’

  Crown smiled dryly. ‘You managed.’ He glanced at Lyons. ‘You’ll have a bad enemy there. He’ll have it in for you even more than before now.’

  I put on my gunbelt and hat. ‘Then he’ll have to get in line.’

  Will Pike was still standing under the threat of Riley’s gun. He watched me as I approached him and I saw hate grow in his eyes. Here was another who had decided I was worth killing. I was getting a little tired of it. All I wanted was to be able to live my life the way I wanted to. I had no intention of bothering anyone as long as they left me alone. But I was beginning to realize that it would be a long time before I was able to do that.

  ‘Give him his gun, Lew,’ I said.

  ‘You push your luck, Tyler,’ Pike said. His voice was gentle, almost subdued but it was evident that there was anger close behind the outer calm.

  ‘So you keep telling me. And like I said before, I’ll be there come the day.’

  Pike dropped his gun into his holster. ‘With the hired help?’ he asked glancing at Crown and Riley.

  ‘That day I’ll be on my own,’ I told him. ‘That’s a promise.’

  I turned away from him then, going over to the edge of the boardwalk where the girl Lyons had been beating was sitting. The young man was with her and as I approached he glanced up.

  ‘I reckon we look a real beat-up pair,’ I said.

  He gave a pained smile. ‘I guess I asked for it. I took on more’n I could handle.’

  ‘A man can’t do any more than try,’ I said. ‘No reason to be ashamed. My name’s Brig Tyler.’

  He took my hand. ‘Bill Ward. Are you the Brig Tyler who just brought the herd in over the hills?’

  ‘That was me.’

  ‘Some drive,’ Ward said.

  I’d almost forgotten the girl but I felt her eyes on me now, and I glanced at her. She was young, maybe only eighteen, not much more. Slender and very pretty. She had dark hair and dark eyes, big, bright eyes that were wet with he
r tears right now. I took off my hat.

  ‘Sorry, Miss,’ I said. ‘I hope you don’t think I was being rude. I surely didn’t mean to ignore you.’

  ‘I’m sure you didn’t,’ she said. Her voice was soft and gentle and she made me think of Judith. ‘I want to thank you for what you did, Mr. Tyler.’

  ‘It may sound funny, but it was a pleasure,’ I told her.

  ‘Excuse me, Mr. Tyler,’ Bill Ward said. ‘This is Madge Novak.’

  I nodded. ‘A pleasure Miss Novak.’

  We talked for a little while. I found out that Madge worked in the store run by her uncle. She’d only been in Hope for a couple of weeks. Apparently she had been alone on the street when Will Pike and Tall Lyons had come out of a saloon. Lyons had been drinking and he’d tried to force himself onto her. Her trouble had been seen by Bill Ward and he had tried to stop Lyons. But Lyons had been too much for him and he’d knocked Ward about for a while before he’d turned his drunken anger on Madge.

  Here was a prime example why Hope needed its own lawman. The place was becoming established now, with more families moving in. Women and children needed the kind of protection that only regular law and order could provide. The lawlessness had to be stamped out and stamped out soon.

  Madge finally excused herself, saying she was alright now. Bill Ward offered to see her home and she said he could.

  ‘Maybe we’ll meet again,’ she said to me.

  ‘Under more pleasant conditions I hope,’ I told her.

  I watched the pair of them go. There was something special in the way that Madge held onto young Bill.

  Will Pike had got Tall Lyons onto a horse and the pair were on their way out of town. Lyons was hung over in his saddle, his head down on his chest. He was going to take a long time getting over today’s encounter. In fact I didn’t really figure he’d get over it at all. Not until one of us was dead.

  I figured I’d had enough of Hope for one day and decided to ride out, back up to the mine. I told Crown and Riley. They fancied staying in Hope for the night. I said I’d meet them back at the mine in a day or so.

  I stopped off in a store and bought some personal bits and pieces. I also bought some fresh supplies for the next drive. Outside I loaded everything behind my saddle and mounted up. I rode out slowly. My body was stiffening up some now, my bruises becoming tender. It was going to be a hard ride and I didn’t expect to get much sleep when night came.

  It was dark when I rode in on the mine. Jacob was on watch but he spotted me a way off.

  I tethered my horse, unsaddled and rubbed him down. I gave him feed and water, then made my way over to the campfire and a mug of hot, black coffee. All I wanted right now was coffee, something to eat, then a chance to get into my blankets. It wasn’t much. I just wondered if I’d get through this one without being disturbed.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mid-morning of the second day Crown and Riley rode into camp. I was giving my horse a good rubdown. It was good for the horse and it was helping me to work off some of my stiffness. I was still sore from my tangle with Tall Lyons, my body covered in mean bruises, my face still tender, a little swollen. I was getting restless, ready to be on the move again, and I was glad to see my crew riding into camp.

  I saw that it had increased in size. Crown had found two more hands and I saw that one of them was Bill Ward. The other was a heavy, chunky man with a very broad chest and powerful arms that seemed on the point of bursting the sleeves of his faded shirt.

  Crown came across, wiping the sweatband of his hat. He had a dark bruise under his left eye and a healing cut on his cheek.

  ‘I figured I did enough fighting for this outfit,’ I said.

  ‘Was only a friendly tangle, Brig,’ he told me, grinning all over his brown face.

  ‘Well, you look as if you’ve enjoyed yourselves.’

  Riley was rolling a smoke. ‘You said it, boss.’

  ‘Hello, Bill,’ I said as Ward joined us. ‘You sure you want to join an outfit like this?’

  He smiled. ‘If you’ll have me,’ he said.

  ‘Proud to have you along.’ I saw that he was dressed in well-worn trail gear. ‘You’ve been on drives before?’

  ‘Four,’ he told me. ‘Two up from Texas to Sedalia.’

  ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘Brig, this is Hendrik Carlson.’

  The chunky man stepped forward as Crown spoke. He held out a huge hand. His grip was extremely powerful. He had fair hair and pale-blue eyes.

  ‘I see what you do to Tall Lyons,’ he said in his broken English. ‘Is good. Man who can lick Lyons I will work good for. I am good cowhand. Pretty good cook too.’

  ‘Looks like you’re out of a job, Lew,’ I said to Riley. ‘Lord knows what we’ll do with two cooks along with us.’

  ‘I’d say you’ll eat pretty good,’ Riley remarked.

  ‘All right, Hendrik, you’re on the payroll,’ I said.

  He smiled. ‘Is good. And my friends call me Swede. Is easier to say.’

  We got ourselves and our gear sorted out and took leave of the mine about an hour later. I wished Seth good luck in the elections for the post of marshal. I didn’t envy him the job. If he got it he was going to have his work cut out keeping law and order in Hope.

  It was a blustery day. A wind was keening down off the mountain peaks and I could feel a slight touch of frost in it. Summer was fast coming to a close. It was the way of things in this high country. The weather was liable to change suddenly, sharply, and before a man knew it he would be riding through a heavy snowfall. I’d heard this from more than one man who had lived in this country for a number of years. I realized that time was becoming precious and I intended to make this drive in the fastest time possible. As much as I wanted to see Judith I decided to wait until we were on the way back from Tarrant.

  The weather stayed pretty clear. The nights became increasingly colder though and on the morning of the second day a light frost covered the ground and whitened the trees and brush.

  ‘Soon there is snow,’ Swede Carlson said.

  ‘I hope it holds off until we get the cattle through,’ I said.

  Swede shrugged. ‘Maybe will, maybe won’t,’ he remarked. ‘Anyhow, it take more than snow to stop us.’

  I helped myself to coffee. ‘If you say so, Swede.’

  He grinned. ‘Sure thing, boss.’

  We reached Tarrant late one afternoon and made camp outside the town. After an early supper we all turned into our blankets. Once we got the herd we were going to be busy so we figured to get as much sleep as we possibly could.

  With breakfast over we rode into Tarrant on a morning that was once more white with frost. I left my crew at the saloon while I took a walk over to the bank. I still had all my money on me and I was more than ready to hand it over to George Q. Heath for safe-keeping.

  This time there was no nonsense from the skinny clerk, and almost before I knew it I was seated in Heath’s office, sampling some more of his brandy.

  Heath was extremely interested to hear how I’d got on. When I handed over my money and gold his eyes kind of lit up.

  ‘I’ll have this credited to your account this instant,’ he said.

  ‘I might want to take some out again later today,’ I told him. ‘I figure to take another herd through to Hope soon as I can get one together.’

  ‘Do you think you’ll manage it before the snows come?’ Heath asked.

  ‘It’s a chance I’m willing to take.’

  Heath nodded. ‘I wish you luck.’

  I needed speed, not luck, I decided as I left the bank and made my way over to the saloon. I was beginning to get just a little worried about the coming snow. We might easily make it to Hope. Then again we could get caught, herd and all, up in those hills. If that happened we were in for trouble. I didn’t let myself be fooled into thinking we would get through all right. Driving a herd through falling snow was no picnic. It was mean work and a sudden freeze could rob a man of most of h
is herd if it caught him off guard.

  Shortly we were out of Tarrant, heading for George Dodd’s spread. Dodd was out on his range when we arrived but one of his hands rode out with us to show us where he was.

  Dodd was working with his crew mending fences. He left off work as we rode up. I sent my crew over for a mug of coffee as I talked to Dodd.

  ‘I hear you made it,’ he said.

  ‘After a few upsets,’ I told him.

  He cuffed his hat back. ‘I figure you stung the Reevers a mite.’

  ‘They asked for it.’

  ‘I guess you are after more beef for the hungry miners of Hope.’

  I nodded. ‘If you have any. Same price as before.’

  ‘I can see you going far, young feller.’ He turned and called to one of his hands. ‘I got one-hundred-fifty head I can let you have.’

  ‘I could do with more.’

  ‘Take a ride over and see Ben Choate. He’s got some stock he’ll let you have.’

  Dodd’s hand arrived and his boss told him to take half my crew and show them where the cattle were. He wrote out a bill of sale and I wrote out a check from a book that Heath had given me. It gave me a strange feeling, being able to write a check for a large amount, knowing that I had money to cover it.

  I left Crown and Riley to collect the cattle, while Bill Ward and Swede rode over to the Choate ranch with me.

  Choate’s headquarters lay in a deep, sprawling basin. A winding creek crossed the land and the place was knee-deep in lush grass. It looked to be a fair spread.

  Unlike Dodd, Ben Choate was married and it was his wife who greeted us as we rode up to the house. She was a plump, rosy-cheeked woman of around fifty. She had a basin in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other.

  ‘Well now, you boys look like you rode a long way,’ she said. ‘How does a cup of coffee and a piece of pie sound?’

  I took off my hat. ‘Ma’am, it sounds like heaven and we would be right grateful.’

  ‘Then step down and come inside. Only kick off some of that dust first because I cleaned only this morning.’