Читать книгу Saddle and Ride: Western Classics - Boxed Set - Ernest Haycox - Страница 92

Table of Contents

A long gray column slid sinuously through the green thicket and shot across the Sundown-Ysabel Junction road. The last man in the column dismounted, erased the hoofmarks in the dust with his coat, and caught up with the procession. Then the column vanished through the ranking trees of the high ridge near Starlight Canyon. Some minutes later it reached a commanding summit, halted, and took rest. Lou Redmain rode off by himself to where the road, the lower end of Sundown Valley, and the Leverage home meadows were spread out before him. He tipped back his hat, fingers tapering down a cigarette. Having lighted it and swung one knee over the saddlehorn, he began a slow survey of the country from north to south.

For all his apparent ease of posture, there was a wariness about him, an animal restlessness. His clothes were streaked with dirt; a dark stubble of beard ran from temple to jaw. Normally Lou Redmain was almost like a woman in neatness and choice of clothes. Now, unkempt and sullen for lack of sleep, his features betrayed him. The willfulness, the faithlessness, the unbridled appetites—these faults any man could see at a glance. Redmain had never been anything else, nor anything better than he was now.

Yet he had changed. Through the years he had been denied a full fellowship with the range people. Hating these people because of that, and hating himself because he understood better than any living soul the rotten streaks in him, he had lived in solitary rebellion, cursing a society he could not enter and could not destroy. He had drifted to the Wells, despising the brutally degraded human beings he necessarily was forced to call his friends. The Wells became his town, the outlaws in it his henchmen. So inevitably the passions guiding Lou Redmain led him step by step into organized thievery. Now he stood on the summit of the ridge, inflamed with the knowledge he had met the best force society could launch against him and tricked it to defeat; hardened and made desperately dangerous by knowing that in the black night just gone he had forfeited every right to mercy and publicly branded himself with the one brand no human being can ever erase—murder.

His gaze traveled as far as the mouth of Starlight. A rider emerged from Starlight, turning west; whoever it was, he went slowly and seemed to sway in the saddle. Redmain whipped a pair of glasses from his coat and bent them on the road for a long interval. Perceptibly the corners of his mouth tightened. Then obeying a cagy impulse, he ran the glasses along the trees fringing Starlight's mouth and on ahead of the rider to where dark angles of the hill country abutted upon the road. He replaced the glasses, and went down to the resting men.

"Up and ride," said he, and spurred ahead without waiting. He threaded the pines, swung to avoid an open meadow, and fell upon a narrow trail. His men strung out, murmuring. He turned and spoke with stinging calm. "Choke off that noise and quit straggling."

Dann drew nearer. "Stage comin'?"

"Never mind," grunted Redmain. He departed from the trail so unexpectedly that Dann shot past him and had to swing back. Some hundred yards down a rocky glen Redmain paused and motioned the party to collect. In front lay a screen of trees; just beyond was the road. He had judged his distance well, for the sound of the rider came around a point of rocks. Redmain tightened his grip on the reins, motioned his men to stand fast, and suddenly shot out of the pines. Eve Leverage, traveling slowly and slackly, saw him. She roused herself to defensive action. The horse sprang forward, her quirt flashed down. Redmain laughed, ran beside her, and got a grip on her pony's bridle cheek piece. Never uttering a sound, she slashed him desperately across the face with the quirt, leaving her mark definitely on him before he jerked it out of her hands. A queer, glittering grin stamped his features.

"Like to cut me, don't you? Words or quirt, it's all the same to you."

"If I had a gun I'd kill you!"

"Considerin' the condition of the country," was his even rejoinder, "you ought to carry one."

She was dead white. She had been crying. Her eyes were blurred, her fists clenched, and she seemed to be fighting for breath.

"You creeping, savage beast! Get away from me—I don't want to touch you!"

"The good, nice people of Yellow Hill," said Redmain, coldly bitter, "have taught you the proper lessons, I see."

"Keep your tongue off folks you're not fit to cringe in front of! I pray God will strike you dead!"

"When your men folk go out to kill it's right and proper. When I use my gun in self-protection I'm nothin' more to you than a savage. Think straight. When the pack is out to destroy it's just as crazy and inhuman as anything on earth. I'm fightin' to live as I want to live! To be let alone—to keep from bein' broke in the damned treadmill! What's wrong with that? I'm a man, and I'm darin' to do what a lot of other men would like to do but ain't got the courage! Because I don't want to follow the pack and think as it thinks—because of that the pack outlaws me. Makes me a target! I'm an animal—but they don't even give me the benefit of a closed season like they would other animals. No, I've got to be destroyed. And you condemn me for wantin' to live!"

"I believe nothing you say!" cried Eve. "You slink in the dark, stealing what belongs to other people! You shot my father, never remembering that years ago he defended you and gave you another chance after you had stolen some of his cows! And you have killed a man who broke with all the ranchers in this country because he wanted you to have every chance a human being could have! A man who publicly said he believed in you—long after you had lost the right to be believed! Stay away from me—you're—you're unclean!"

He was still. But the words ripped him apart, destroyed the sham glory he had built around his bloody acts. Fury leaped in his eyes. "I thought you'd be comin' from Denver's. Been up there to grieve over the hero of the hills, uh? He will never wear a tin crown again!"

She lowered her head, turned it away from him. Redmain laughed harshly at the agony he saw.

"Thought you was mighty kind in giving me your pity that day in Sundown. I'll show you what I think of pity."

He wrapped her reins in his free arm. She struggled for them, but Redmain slapped her hands away. "Stay still—or I'll make you wish you never'd been born."

She slumped in the saddle. "Nothing can hurt me more than I've been hurt," said she dully.

"Pretty talk," jeered Redmain and started west on the road. A gesture of his arm brought the rest of the party from the trees. Gathering speed, Redmain followed the road for a quarter mile and then swept into the trees once more, this time on the south side. Twenty minutes through the forest he paused and rode alone to a break in the greenery. Leverage's ranch quarters drowsed in the sunshine, here and there a puncher idling at chores. Redmain beckoned the party to him and led it along a circle—approaching the ranch from another quarter and closing quietly in. Redmain took Eve's reins and muttered at the waiting riders.

"No shooting unless it's necessary. Circle the house. Get all hands out in the yard and strip 'em. Dann, you're in charge of that. I'll be going inside. Torper, you watch the road for anything coming this way. Let's go."

He shot into the clearing and bore down on the main house with Eve beside him. A Leverage hand discovered the raid and yelled at the top of his lungs. "Redmain!" Men sprang from all directions. Dann boomed stridently.

"Cut that out or yuh'll shoot the girl! Pitch up, you galoots, and do it quick!"

Redmain was sure enough of his strength to ride straight to the porch, jump down, and haul Eve from her saddle. Mrs. Leverage appeared in the doorway and screamed. She ran for her daughter, striking at Redmain. The outlaw laughed and let the girl go. "Oh, she's not hurt, woman. Where's Leverage?"

Mrs. Leverage backed away, spreading her arms across the door. "Stay out of here! You've done enough harm!"

He pushed her aside. Knowing the arrangement of the house very well, he went directly to Leverage's bedroom. The rancher lay between the sheets, body battened up with pillows. When he saw Redmain he turned his head very slightly, and his lids narrowed. Mrs. Leverage ran over and put herself by the bed.

Redmain had a thin grin. "Got curious, Jake. Wanted to see what I'd done to you. Next time you'll probably know enough to mind yore own business. In the first place, you're too old to take chances. Also, you ain't quite bright enough to get me. I've known every move you made for two weeks."

"You wet-faced little rat!" snapped Mrs. Leverage. "Let Jake alone! Get out of here and go away. I always did know you were treacherous, but I thought you drew the line somewheres. What did you come here for, anyhow?"

"To let the Leverage family know I ride when and where I please," droned Redmain. "Nothing's going to stop me."

"Well, you've made your brag. Now clear out."

"You don't get off that easy," said Redmain, showing his vicious pleasure. "Jake was big-hearted enough to take the lead in wipin' me out. Now I'm going to set an example for Yellow Hill and show folks just what happens to men that try to hurt me."

He turned back to the porch. His men had collected the Leverage hands and herded them against the corral bars. Dann came out of the bunkhouse with an armful of plunder. Redmain stopped him.

"Dann, drop that junk. I want everything moved from the bunkhouse and piled in the yard. Pull all the machinery and wagons out of the sheds. Get it together. Start a fire under it, burn it to cinders. Toss on anything you see layin' about that's worth a cent."

He paused and cocked his head aside, as if expecting to hear the Leverage women ask for mercy; but silence held the house. Dann grinned. "How about the furniture in the big house? How about burnin' the whole shebang down? That's what they did to the Wells."

Redmain shook his head. "Do what I told you, and make it fast." He returned to the bedroom. "Guess you ain't so far gone, Jake, but what you heard that. A little lesson in manners. It is costin' you a nice sum to buck me."

Still nobody answered him. He broke out wrathfully. "And I mean that lesson to circulate around! By Judas, I want it understood from now on I'm to be let alone! I'm stronger than the law in Yellow Hill! From now on I am the law in this county, and I'll ride out in broad sight without hindrance. You will all listen to me and like it!"

The crackle of flames sounded down the hall. Leverage's white lips twitched. Mrs. Leverage leaned down and touched him. "Don't you care, Jake," she murmured. But Eve ran out to the porch swiftly to see. Redmain followed her and pointed to the fire licking through the heaped-up possessions.

"That," he said, grinding the words together, "is what pity does. Once I thought I'd risk anything and do anything for you. I know better. I don't want you. If I did I'd drag you along. I'd make you like the women at the Wells. Why should I bother? You're no better than they are. I'll stick to the women at the Wells. At least they're honest about it."

He strode from the porch, stepped into the saddle and motioned his men to do likewise. When they had assembled he turned and lifted his hat to Eve sardonically. "One more item. I won't even give you the satisfaction of thinkin' I had to kill Denver myself. I didn't. He didn't mean that much to me. I told Dann to do it."

Eve swayed back from the door and put up her hand to a rifle hanging inside. The outlaws had all turned out, and Dann's broad back was the target on which she leveled her gun. She closed her eyes, pulled the trigger, and flung the rifle defiantly to the floor. Dann's horse swirled and bucked. On the instant the whole party spread wide, guns raised. Lou Redmain charged his pony at Dann just as the latter was lifting his revolver on Eve. He knocked Dann aside, the gun exploded, and the shell ripped through the porch wall. In another slashing arm sweep Redmain forced his lieutenant's weapon down. "Get out of here—I'll attend to this!"

"Let him shoot me!" cried Eve desperately. "Why stop at that when you've done everything else?"

Redmain laughed. "Now I'll show you what will happen to the Leverage crew if any of them ever fire on my outfit again!" He spoke softly over his shoulder. A burst of shots crashed out. Eve turned her head away. Then the renegades were racing off, leaving Leverage's saddle stock slaughtered in the yard.

A half hour later Redmain, deep in the Copperhead country, halted and gave his horses a chance to blow. A part of the bunch threw themselves down as soon as they lighted. Redmain, cagy and aloof, went on to an isolated point and kept his seat. Presently a newcomer emerged from the west and rode along to Red-main's covert.

"Well?" challenged Redmain.

"Not much doubt about it. If he wasn't killed outright in Tom's Hole, then he died after they lugged him home. I crawled on my stummick till I had sight of the whole D Slash premises. They buried him just a little bit ago. I saw the coffin go down and the earth cover it up."

Redmain nodded and called out to Dann. "Come on." So the cavalcade strung after him, this time posting north through the rugged defiles bordering the river, verging toward Sundown. Redmain's glance began to reach ahead more impatiently. And abruptly he lifted an arm by way of signal. The column halted. An inconspicuous little man with swarthy features had been standing athwart the trail in an attitude of long waiting. He came up promptly.

"I was about to conclude," said he, "you wasn't goin' to make it."

"I do what I say I'll do," jerked out Redmain morosely. "Sing your piece."

"I was told to tell yuh," recited the little man tonelessly, "that the Association busted up without no decision. The vigilantes idee ain't goin' to be carried on. Nobody wants the job of runnin' it. The little fellers won't join in. So the big fellers have decided to organize their own ridin' committees to cover their own ranges—nothin' more'n that."

Malicious satisfaction dawned on Redmain's face. "So I split 'em up. Just what I wanted to do. Anything else?"

"I was told to tell yuh to use yore judgment fer a few days."

"I reckon I'm in the habit of doin' that pretty well," remarked Redmain dryly and somewhat irritably.

The swarthy messenger cast a sidewise glance at Dann. "Steers has published his intention of goin' after yuh, Dann. He stood in Grogan's and called you a number of names. He challenged yuh to meet him anywhere, any time."

"Small potatoes," jeered Dann. "He figgers he's safe in cussin' a man that ain't able to come out in the daylight and meet him. And say, how does he know I kicked Denver over? That's what I want to know."

"It's the dope around Sundown," added the messenger.

"News seems to get published awful sudden," grunted Dann. "To hell with Steers. I ain't worried about him."

Redmain's silence began to be oppressive. He had his eyes fixed calculatingly on Dann. Presently he spoke up. "That's an idea. Why not?"

"Why not what?" Dann wanted to know.

"Go get him."

Dann turned defiant. "Yore runnin' this outfit, ain't yuh? Why don't yuh do yore own shootin' once in a while? Have I got to do all of it?"

"Afraid of Steers?" asked Redmain softly.

Dann jumped at the bait. "You know better'n that, Lou! I'm afraid of nobody that walks!"

"Considerable territory," observed Redmain in the same cool and cutting manner. "For instance, you sound like you might be includin' me. Which of course you don't mean, do you, Dann?"

Dann held Redmain's eyes until his own turned bloodshot. The messenger shifted uneasily. Redmain smiled with his lips. "You didn't include me, did you, Dann?"

Dann shifted. "Let it go," he grunted and found an excuse to look at his feet. "If yuh really want me to go get Steers—"

"I do. Go after him. Choose your time and your ground. But get him. I want Yellow Hill to understand that I hear all these challenges and that I call all bluffs. I mean to make it so this county won't dare speak about me above a whisper. Go get him."

He turned to the swarthy messenger and studied him in cool detachment. The latter felt himself being dismissed and without another word rode off. Redmain waited for a few moments and took up his talk again with Dann.

"There's more to it. You'll create a sort of side show while I'm up in the hills plannin' somethin' else. There's one more big play comin' up. One more smash this country's goin' to suffer from me. They tried to lick me—and couldn't. Now they figger to let me alone. And they can't do that either. They went too far. I remember every slight, every insult. I got all that down on the books, and I intend to pay off. What did they do to the Wells? Destroyed it! All right. I am going to destroy Sundown, Dann! And then ride out of the country!"

"When?" was Dann's swift question.

"Never mind. You'll know soon enough. Get on your horse and pull out. You've got the next three-four days to find Steers and maneuver him into position. I'll be up in the country above Sundown—out of sight and out of mind."

Dann turned back, got his horse, and rode west into the timber. Redmain watched him go, a flare of cruelty on the triangular face. He had told Dann two reasons for going after Steers; but he had not told Dann the third reason. In short, he wanted Dann to be shot down. The big man was becoming too dangerous, too boastful, too much of a malcontent. He might infect the others, he might turn treacherous. Steers, of course, was not as good a shot as Dann, but once the big outlaw was sent off alone he was apt to get foolish and betray himself—and be trapped. In any event, Redmain meant the man should never return to the party. If he did return he would never so much as get off his horse. Thus definitely did Redmain erase Stinger Dann from his plans. He signaled to the outfit and led away. The column vanished through the green thicket.