Novel 1953 - Showdown At Yellow Butte Read online

  He smiled at her. “Ambitious, aren’t you?”

  “Why not? Being a rancher’s wife doesn’t appeal to me. I want to get away from here, go someplace, be something and enjoy life.” She hesitated, studying him. “You could edge Gunter out of it, and Keith—maybe even Burwick. But the first two would be easy, and I know how.”

  “You do?” He looked up at her. She stood very close to him, and she was smiling down at him. She was, he had to admit, a lovely girl. And an exciting one. Too exciting for comfort right now, and that was a fact she understood completely. “How?”

  She shook her head. “Oh, no! That I’d tell you only if you threw in with me, joined me. But this much I’ll tell you—John Gunter is small potatoes. They needed money, and he had that girl’s money so they roped him in. Keith is dangerous because he is ambitious and unscrupulous, but the man to reckon with is Burwick. He will be top man when this thing is over, and you can bank on it. He has a way figured, all the time.”

  “You seem to know a great deal.”

  “I do. Men like me and men talk. They don’t have any idea how much I lead them to say, or how much I remember.”

  “Why tell me all this?”

  “Because you’re the man who can do what has to be done. You could whip that bunch into line. All of them would listen to you, even Dornie Shaw—and he’s suspicious of you.”

  “Of me? Why?”

  “He saw Dai Reid come from your room. He was watching you.”

  So that was it? He had suspected that Shaw had something on his mind. But why had Shaw been watching? What was the gunman thinking of? And had he reported that conference to Keith?

  Kedrick finished his meal and lighted a cigarette. Ever since their first meeting in the desert this girl had puzzled him. He was inclined to doubt if any girl, reared as she must have been, could be so sincerely disdaining of all loyalty, and so plainly self-seeking. She seemed scarcely more than a child, slim, brown and lovely, with her quick, measuring eyes and her soft lips.

  Now, apparently she had selected him as the man who was to take her away from the desert. But how many others held the same idea? However, he had no idea of leaving the desert.

  “Your brother around?” he asked.

  Her glance was a quick flash of alarm. “You don’t want to see him, or talk to him. You’d better get out of here.”

  “On the contrary, Sue, I’d like to talk to Pit. I’ve heard about him and I’d like to know him.”

  “You’d better go,” she warned. “He’ll be back soon, and some of that Yellow Butte crowd may be with him.”

  “You mean he’s not here? Then whose horse is that out there? That grulla?”

  Her face was strange as she shook her head. “You’ll think I’m a liar, but I don’t know. I never saw the rider.”

  His eyes searched hers. He could see nothing but sincerity there, sincerity and a little fear. “You mean that horse showed up there, tied like that? And you never saw the rider?”

  “That’s right. I looked out this morning, shortly after Pit left, and he was tied right there. This isn’t the first time! He has been here twice before, when Pit was gone, and some others have seen him, most of them women when their husbands are away. Mrs. Burt Williams said he was tied to her corral for three or four hours one day.”

  “But surely someone sees the rider come and mount up?”

  “Never. He’ll be out there like he is now—he’s gone!”

  Kedrick came to his feet with a start and stared out the door. Sue was right. The mouse-colored horse was gone. His own palouse stood where he had left it, but the grulla had disappeared.

  Walking out into the yard, he looked around very carefully. But there was nothing in sight on the plain or the hills. The horse was gone! He looked at her and saw the strained expression on her face. Then he walked out to the appaloosa. Pinned to his saddle was a note. He grabbed it up and glanced at it, then passed it to Sue who had come up beside him.

  “Stay away.”

  Kedrick shrugged. “Your brother do this?”

  “Oh, no! I told him about the horse and he knew no more about it than I. Besides, he didn’t print that. He couldn’t. Pit never learned to either read or write.”

  Long after he left the Malpais Arroyo behind, he was puzzling over the strange horse. Somebody was seriously trying either to puzzle or frighten the squatters. Yet it was an action unlike the company. Moreover, it must be somebody who had a lot of time to spend.

  Kedrick rode north toward Blue Hill, then swung east, crossing the Old Mormon Trail and skirting the rim.

  This was good grazing land. There was an abundance of rough forage here and a good herd of cattle could fatten on this range without trouble. Moreover, the herding problem was solved in part by the rim, which provided a natural drift fence beyond which the cattle could not go.

  When he reached Salt Creek he turned down the creek toward the river. Swinging east again and passing near Chimney Rock, he rode southeast until he struck the Hogback Trail. Once over that ridge, he headed due east for Mustang.

  Yet as always, his eyes were alive and alert. He loved this land, harsh though it might be at some times. He loved the dim purples and blues, the far-flung mists and morning and night, the gray-green of the sagebrush, and the rust-red of the sandstone. It was a good country, and there was room for all if it were left open for settlement.

  His own mind was not yet resolved. The problem of his debt to Gunter weighed heavily upon him, and there were other considerations. He wanted no trouble, and to withdraw now might mean plenty of it. This was especially so if he remained in the country, which he had every reason to do. He would try to talk the company out of withdrawing, but he knew that would fail.

  Just where, in all this, did Connie Duane actually stand? Was she involved more deeply than he believed? Or was it only what had been implied, that her uncle had invested her money in the land speculation? If such was the case, it might be difficult or impossible to get out at this stage—even if they would allow it.

  Burwick puzzled him. Obviously the controlling power, he gave no evidence of where that power came from aside from some native shrewdness. There might be much more to the man, and evidently there was. That Keith and Gunter deferred to him was obvious.

  Purposely, Kedrick had said nothing of his hideaway, near Yellow Butte, when talking to Sue. That young lady already knew more than was good for her, and that spot might again become useful. It was something to know.

  Mustang was asleep when he rode into the town and headed for the stable. He put his horse up and rubbed it thoroughly, gave it a good bait of corn and forked down some hay. Then he made his way quietly to the St. James. As he neared the hotel a tall, lean figure arose from the chair where he himself had been sitting a few days before. The build and the broad hat, the very hang of the guns left no mistake. It was Laredo Shad.

  “Cap’n?” The voice was low. “You all right?”

  “Yes, and you?”

  Shad chuckled. “Don’t worry none about Shad! I stay healthy.” He motioned to a chair. “You better sit down. I’ve been hopin’ you’d show up.”

  “What’s the talk? Did they think I was dead, or skipped the country?”

  “Some o’ both, I reckon. Keith was fit to be tied. He wants to see you as soon as you show—no matter when.”

  “He’ll wait. I’m tired.”

  Shad nodded, then lighted his cigarette, which had gone out. “You know, I ain’t right sure about this business.”

  Kedrick nodded. “I know what you mean. I’m not the man to run folks out of their homes.”

  “You quittin’?”

  “Not yet. I’ll talk to ’em first.”

  “Won’t do no good. They are mighty bloodthirsty. It was Poinsett shot that messenger. Dornie put him up to it. Poinsett killed him, an’ then four, five of those rannies shot up the body. I don’t think Fessenden shot any, an’ maybe Goff didn’t. You can lay your last peso I didn’t shoot none. It w
as mighty raw, Cap’n, mighty raw!”

  “They’ll pay for it. Were you on the Yellow Butte raid?”

  “Uh huh, but I didn’t shoot nobody. I’m no Bible packer, Cap’n, but I do figure a fightin’ man shouldn’t tackle folks who cain’t fight back, an’ I ain’t the man to be firin’ on no women or kids.”

  “What are they talkin’ up now? Any plans you know of?”

  Shad hesitated, then shrugged. “Reckon you’d better talk that out with them, Cap’n. I may know somethin’ but I ain’t tellin’, not yet.”

  The Texan sat silent for a few minutes while both men smoked, and then he waved an impatient hand. “Cap’n, I hired on as a gunhand, an’ such I am, but I didn’t figure on this sort o’ thing. Some of those hombres on the other side o’ this shindig look a durned sight more human than some on our own side. I’m gettin’ shut o’ the whole shebang.”

  “Uh huh—” surprisingly, Kedrick found resolution coming to him—“I know how you feel, but my own way will be different. I think if I can’t talk Gunter an’ the rest of them out of that I’ll change sides.”

  Shad nodded. “I’ve thought of it. I sure have.”

  Kedrick turned suddenly and found Dornie Shaw standing not twenty feet behind them. Slowly, he got to his feet, and Laredo Shad did likewise. Shaw’s eyes avoided Kedrick. “If you figure on leavin’ us, Shad, you better figure on killin’ me first.”

  “If I have to,” Laredo said quietly, “then I reckon you can die as simple as any other man. Want to try it now?”

  “That’s enough, Shad!” Kedrick’s voice was sharp. “I’ve said there would be no more fighting! Not in this outfit!”

  Dornie Shaw turned his head slowly and smiled at Kedrick. “Still like to give orders, do you? Maybe that’ll be changed.”

  “Maybe.” Tom Kedrick shrugged. “There will be time enough for me to stop giving orders. I’m turning in.”

  “Keith wants to see you.”

  “He can wait. I’ve had a rough time. There’s nothing he wants won’t wait.”

  “Shall I tell him that?”

  “If you like.”

  Shaw smiled again. “You must carry a lot o’ weight where you come from, Kedrick, but don’t forget it ain’t here. Keith is a bad man to buck. So’s Burwick.”

  Kedrick shrugged again. “I’ve bucked worse. But at the moment, I’m bucking nobody. I need sleep, and by the Lord Harry, sleep is what I’ll get. Whatever Keith has on his mind can wait until daylight. I’ll be up then.”

  Shaw started to go, then hesitated, unable to restrain his curiosity. “What happened to you? We figured you were dead or taken prisoner when you didn’t come back.”

  For the first time Kedrick began to wonder. Had Shaw wanted the messenger killed for that very reason. Had he deliberately moved that way hoping the enraged settlers would kill Kedrick? It was most likely. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, passing off the remark casually. “I found a way to keep out of sight.”

  Shaw turned away, and when he had gone only a few steps, Tom Kedrick spoke up suddenly. “By the way, Dornie. Know anybody who rides a grulla mustang?”

  Shaw stopped abruptly, but he did not turn. His whole body had seemed to stiffen. Then he started on. “No,” he said gruffly, “I sure don’t.”

  Laredo Shad stared after him. “You know, pardner, you’ll either kill that hombre someday or you’ll be killed.”

  “Uh huh,” Kedrick said quietly, “I’ve the same feeling.”

  CHAPTER 7

  KEITH WAS PACING the floor in the office at the gray stone building when Kedrick walked in. He stopped and turned swiftly. “Shaw tells me you came in after midnight. Why didn’t you come to me according to my orders?”

  “Frankly, I was tired. Furthermore,” Kedrick returned Keith’s look, “I’d nothing to report that wouldn’t keep.”

  “You were hired to do a job, and you haven’t done it.” Keith stood with his hands on his hips. “Where’ve you been?”

  Briefly and clearly, Kedrick explained, omitting only the visit to Laine’s and the story of the hideout. “Frankly,” he said, “having looked the situation over, I’d say you had small chance of driving those people off. Also, you and Gunter misrepresented things to me and the Government. That land is occupied not by renegades and outlaws, but by good, solid people. You can’t get away with running them off.”

  Keith smiled contemptuously. “Gettin’ scared? You were supposed to be a fighting man! As for what we can do or can’t do, let me tell you this, Kedrick: we’ve started to run those people off, and we’ll do it! With or without you! Hiring you was Gunter’s idea, anyway.”

  “That’s right, it was.” Gunter, followed by Burwick, walked into the room, and he glanced swiftly from Kedrick to Keith. “If you’re complainin’ about his going to look over that country, you can stop. I sent him.”

  “Did you tell him to come back scared to death? Saying we can’t swing it?”

  Burwick had been silent, but now he moved to the big chair behind the desk and dropped into it. He sighed heavily and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, then glanced at Kedrick keenly. “What did you find out?”

  “That they are determined to fight. I talked to Bob McLennon and to Slagle. There’s no quit in those men. They’ll fight at the drop of a hat, and to the last ditch. Right now, at this minute, they are ready for anything. Your raid killed one man, wounded another. The dynamite blasted a door loose and blew a hole in the porch.”

  Burwick turned swiftly and glared at Keith. “You told me three men dead and a building destroyed! Hereafter you be sure reports to me are accurate.” He swung back to Kedrick. “Go on, what happened to you? You got away?”

  “I’m here.”

  Their eyes met and held for a long time. Burwick’s stone cold and hard, examining, probing.

  “What do you think of the deal?” he asked finally.

  “The fight,” Kedrick replied carefully, “will raise a stink clear to Washington. Remember the Lincoln County War? We’ll have us another general down here, and you know how much profit you’ll make out of that place then!”

  Burwick nodded his huge head. “Sensible, that’s sensible! Have to think our way around that. At least,” he glared again at Keith and Gunter, “this man can bring in some sensible ideas and make a coherent report. You two could learn from him.”

  He looked up at Kedrick. “Anything else?”

  “A couple of things. There’s a mysterious rider out on those plains. Rides a mouse-colored horse, and he’s got those folks more jittery than all your threats.”

  “Hah?” Burwick was uninterested. He shuffled papers on his desk. “What’s this I hear about you quittin’?”

  “I won’t be a party to murder. These people aren’t outlaws, but good, substantial folks. I’d say: buy them out or leave them alone.”

  “You aren’t running this fair!” Keith replied coldly. “We will decide what is to be done.”

  “Nobody quits,” Burwick said quietly, his eyes on Kedrick’s, “unless I say so.”

  Tom Kedrick smiled suddenly. “Then you’d better say so, because I’ve quit, as of now!”

  “Tom!” Gunter protested. “Let’s talk this over.”

  “What of the money you owe the firm?” Keith demanded, unpleasantly. “You can repay that, I suppose?”

  “There’s no need.”

  They all turned at the voice. Connie Duane stood in the door. “You have money of mine in this project. When Uncle John got it from me he told me it was a real-estate speculation. His other activities have been honest and practical, so I did not investigate. Now, I have. I shall withdraw my money, and you can pay me less the sum advanced to Captain Kedrick. He may repay me when circumstances permit it.”

  All in the room were still. Gunter’s face was pale, and Keith looked startled, then angry. He started to protest, but he was too slow. Burwick turned on Gunter. “You—” he snorted angrily. “You told me that was your money. You fool! What
do you mean, bringing a woman into a deal like this? Well, you brought her in. Now you manage her or I shall.”

  “Nobody,” Connie replied, “is managing me or my affairs from now on. I’ll handle them myself!” She turned to Kedrick. “I’m glad, Captain, that you’ve made this decision. I am sure you’ll not be sorry for it.”

  Kedrick turned to follow her from the room, but Burwick’s voice stopped him. “Captain!”

  He turned. Keith’s eyes were ugly and Gunter’s face was haunted by doubt and fear. “Captain Kedrick,” Burwick said, “I believe we are all being too hasty. I like your caution in this matter. Your suggestion that cleaning out those people might make trouble and cause talk in Washington is probable. I had considered that, but not knowing McLennon, had considered the chance negligible.

  “Slagle,” he added, “I know. McLennon I do not know. Your suggestion eliminates a frontal attack. We must try some other means. Also,” he added, “I believe that your presence has some claim on that of Miss Duane. Consequently, as we can brook no failure now, I have a proposition for you. How would you like to come into the firm? As a silent partner?”

  Keith’s face flushed angrily, but Gunter looked up, his eyes suddenly hopeful. Burwick continued. “We could give you a fifteen per cent interest, which, believe me, will be adequate. I believe you could keep Miss Duane in line, and with you at the helm we might straighten this whole thing out—without bloodshed.”

  Kedrick hesitated. The money was a temptation, for he had no desire to be indebted to Connie, yet the money alone would mean nothing. It was that last phrase that gripped his attention and made him incautious. “Without bloodshed,” he repeated. “On those terms, I accept. However, let’s discuss this matter a bit further.”

  Keith spun on his heel. “Burwick, this doesn’t make sense! You know the only way we’ll get those people off is by driving them off. We agreed on that before. Also this man is not reliable. I happen to know that he has friends on the other side and has actually been in communication with them.”