MORNING CAUGHT CHAVIS some distance behind Vivian’s, not more than ten miles from Rems cabin. He had made poor time because of the night’s blackness and the threat of Spur ambush. Now, in daylight, he had to be exceptionally careful. He kept to the lowlands, dodging in and out of gulches and hollows, continuously watching the skyline and the cover by the trails he was following.
He hadn’t seen anybody for the past three hours and now assumed that he’d successfully gotten around behind Spur. But Vivian might still have men up ahead of him. At the moment he placed himself somewhere between Sid’s lines and Spur. Basing his course on that assumption, he turned squarely north and threaded the canyons of the middle peaks.
Heat sent waves up into the air and presently he removed his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt, letting it hang loose on his shoulders.
Twice during the day he was forced to stop for a half hour or so while small bunches of Spur and Flying V riders wended their paths nearby. Once he sought the shelter of a heavily wooded draw and was almost caught when the search party came within fifty feet of him, talking softly and in gusts—and passed around a bend out of sight.
Hilliard knew the Yellows pretty well. Still, it took him all night and half the day to find the Spur camp. He dropped into it around noon, dismounted and walked stiffly to the almost dead fire. He was alone in the camp and had no way of finding Majors but to wait for him. He had a cup of coffee and whirled edgily when the sound of a horse approaching reached his ears. No Spur man would likely be returning to camp this early in the day. So he palmed his gun and faded into a clump of brush to wait for the rider to show himself. He took off his badge and pocketed it, not wanting it to reflect.
Sid Vivian came into the camp riding slowly on a limping horse. He was cursing the animal. He swung down and unsaddled briskly.
Hilliard stepped into the open with his hand on his gun. “Hello, Sid.”
Vivian wheeled, catlike. His arm swept toward his gun but he hesitated when he saw Hilliard’s gun already out.
He smiled. “Didn’t know it was you. Ain’t healthy, jumpin’ a man that way, Sheriff.”
“Did you get him yet?”
“No. But we will.” Vivian bent to pour himself a cup of coffee. “What brought you out of your nice warm house?”
“A bad smell,” Hilliard said. “I want to tell you something, Sid. If Chavis doesn’t get out of this alive I’ll see to it that you and Ben both hang. The day when you could hunt your enemy down like a coyote has passed.”
“Is that right?” Vivian said. He sipped his drink and took out a cigar. He clamped his teeth on it and began to roll it around with his lips.
“Well, you go ahead and arrest us, Paul. But we ain’t killed him yet. So let me borrow your horse.”
“No,” Hilliard said. “I guess not. We’ll just wait here for the others so I can tell Ben the same thing. I mean it.”
“You do, don’t you?” Vivian regarded him thoughtfully. He set the coffee cup down; he wheeled aside, whipping his gun up, and shot.
When night fell Chavis still wasn’t too near Riley’s hiding place. He was forced again to make a night ride of it, for if he didn’t get to them tomorrow morning Bones would consider first Connie’s safety and would run his crowd over the Yellows to the reservation. Bones couldn’t know that Ben’s outfit was back in the area they would have to cross. And if Chavis missed the rendezvous the chances were that the fat man would ride right into Majors’ arms.
By moonlight he traveled a course to the north and east, presently entering a long, pastured plateau. Danger rubbed steadily against him in the velvet silence. North of him now lay country broken by hundreds of pockets, humps and ravines. From the edge of this badlands the trail he followed turned and dropped away in quick loops. He was close to Riley’s hideout now. He would need light to find it so he left the trail and made a dry camp and slept the rest of the night, trusting the horse to warn him of danger.
In the morning he rode out quickly. Early morning’s light strengthened and when he left the canyon and topped a ridge he got his bearings. He wasn’t more than a mile from Bones’ cave.
Once a man knew its entrance, Bones Riley’s cave wasn’t hard to find. Its opening lay in the face of a sloping ridge wall, almost completely obscured by brush. Chavis worked through this and let his call sing out ahead. He rode at a walk into the cave.
They were all here, he saw, except young Niles. The cave was big, thirty feet wide at the entrance and spreading wider as it went back to an end fifty feet from the opening. The roof was irregular, some seven to fifteen feet off the ground.
When he’d dismounted and tied his horse Bones said, “You were almost too late.”
Chavis grinned through his beard stubble. “Almost is like a near miss, Bones. It doesn’t count.”
Not speaking, Connie looked at him quietly, her glance heavy with concern and relief. She said, “There’s a rabbit over the fire.”
He nodded, grateful, and went to the fire to cut a chunk of meat and eat it hungrily. During his meal Chavis told them sketchily of his three-day ride.
McCaig nodded. “Spur man went by yesterday mornin’. Otherwise we’ve had no trouble.” He put an ear to the wind, having heard something, and decided: “The kid’s comin’ back.”
Gary welcomed Chavis with no great enthusiasm. “Some of Majors’ boys rode down through the pass while I was watching. I guess most of them went all the way back to Spur. Probably to get more food. There’s a couple left on Chainlink.”
“You’re sure that’s all?”
“Three horses in the corral but I think one’s ours.”
Chavis threw the rabbit bone, gnawed clean, into the brush.
“Why not take back Chainlink?” said Gary.
“No good right now. Ben ran us off once and he’d just do it again—and we might not be so lucky next time. We’ve got to work something out.”
“I’m gettin’ old,” said Bones. “Should have quit tomfoolin’ around like this.” He left the shelter. McCaig scowled and followed him.
Chavis told Gary to climb the hogback and watch for dust. When the kid was gone Chavis hunkered down against the rock wall and built a smoke, trying to fit things together, trying to develop a workable plan. Connie came silently and stood above him, then moved to the wide cave entrance, and stood in the half-shadows there, looking without seeing through the brush piled over the cave mouth. She stood stock still for a moment and called softly: “Someone’s out there, Tracy!”
He came to his feet and cat-footed to the opening, catching through the tangle of branches a dim half-view of a figure threading away through the trees. He cautioned her to silence and slipped out of the opening, running in short, silent spurts toward that figure, keeping as much solid cover between him and that man as he could find. Yonder man was retreating slowly through the timber; he came presently to a tethered horse and was in the act of mounting when Chavis called:
“Hold it right there, Shad.”
Shad Carruth halted all motion in his awkward position. He let himself slowly back to the ground and held his hands clamped onto the saddle horn.
“Turn around.”
Carruth swung slowly on his heels, his hands up.
“Now use your left hand to drop the gun. Slow and easy.” Carruth followed orders. “Now,” Chavis told him, “well just go back to the cave and tie you up. You first, Shad.”
He waved his gun barrel and Carruth walked past him. When he was quite close to Chavis, Carruth’s hand whipped out in a surprising move and cuffed the gun from Chavis’ hand before Chavis realized the man had taken his chance against the drop. It was a desperate, unexpected move. But then Carruth was swarming over him, swinging both hammy fists at him. He hooked a fist into Chavis’ midriff and one more against his chest before Chavis stepped out of it and started returning blows.
He struck Carruth three times in the belly and whirled out of reach. He spun in again from the flank and drummed more blows against Carruth’s middle until the Spur rider had his guard thoroughly down, and then aimed a blow from hip level that swept up into Carruth’s throat. Carruth gagged. He stumbled back, reaching out ineffectually. Chavis aimed at a point a foot behind Carruth’s face and brought his fist all the way up from his knees.
Carruth shot six inches in the air and tumbled back. He would have fallen if he hadn’t been caught by a tree. He bounced away from that comer, shaking his head, and wiped blood away from his nostrils. He roared and moved in, bearlike, wanting to grapple, wanting to use the tremendous crushing strength of his arms. But Chavis was careful enough to avoid a hug. He grabbed one of Carruth’s outstretched arms and spun the man past him, off balance; he whacked a blow at the back of Carruth’s neck as he tumbled past.
He waited, gathering breath, until Carruth made a full turn and lumbered forward again. Chavis knew he would be spent quickly; but more than his own safety depended on the outcome of this. He had to keep Shad silent long enough to get away from here. He sensed Connie’s presence nearby, and swung to face Carruth’s advance. Shad moved heavily at him, peering through one half-closed eye, cursing in a high voice. Chavis let himself hang utterly relaxed until Carruth was almost on him; he leaped aside, hooked a blow against Carruth’s nose, and threw a foot between his striding legs. Carruth went over backwards, windmilling. He struck the ground heavily and lay suddenly quiet. Chavis waited a minute but Shad didn’t move. He leaned carefully over Shad’s big form but finally, assured, rolled him over.
“Dead,” he said. “Hit his head on the rock.” He looked at Connie. She refused to look at him.
Reluctantly, Bones woke the sleeping man a few minutes after full dark. Chavis mumbled. He ran a hand through his knotted hair and blinked, and rubbed the ragged growth of beard on his cheeks.
Bones said, “Couple of Spur patrols drifted by a little while ago. They’re sniffin’ around this neighborhood. They must’ve smelled something. Time we was pullin’ out, unless you got a better idea.”
“It has occurred to me,” Chavis said, “that Ben and Sid are just waiting for the chance to drive the knife into each other’s backs.”
“You’re probably right.”
Chavis stood up, pushing the edges of his shirt into his waistband. “Why not help them along?”
“How?”
“The first thing you can do is strip the hat and shirt off Carruth out there. Then get the boys and bury him. After that we’ll start riding.”
Less than an hour later Chavis mounted and led his small bunch out of the screening brush cover. Bones rode beside him, followed by Connie and Gary Niles. Sam McCaig, watchful and silent, rode several yards to the rear. After they left the maze of canyons around Riley’s cave, Chavis cut directly south, leading them through a long, straight cut that divided the lower and upper reaches of the Yellows along here. They kept deep in the timber and made several halts, one each time some stray sound hit an ear. The waning moon moved leisurely across the sky, indicating their slow progress.
By midnight Bones said, “We’re not far above Vivian’s. Best we cut off and head for the foothills before we run into the Flying V yard.”
“One thing first,” Chavis said. “You wait here. I’ve got a little business to do. I’ll be back within an hour—but if you hear shooting, hightail.”
“I’ll go along,” Bones said.
“All right. But more than two of us will make too much noise.” The two split off from the column and continued south.
“We’ve lost ’em,” said Pete Vird. “They’re either all the way over to the reservation by now or they’re holed up so good we’ll never find them. We’re just wastin’ time combin’ these hills.”
Sid Vivian threw a cleaned bone into the fire and wiped his hands across his trouser thighs. “You’re probably right. If they were to be caught, we’d’ve had them by now. From the way Chavis left Rem’s, I’d say he was on the reservation by now. The Chainlink crew probably got there before he did.”
“Goin’ to quit, boss?” said Ray Corrigan.
“We’ll see,” Vivian said. He grinned. “I’ll talk to my partner about it. Riders comin’ now—probably Ben.” Nevertheless he stood up and moved away from the fire, carrying a rifle.
Majors’ call sang out before Spur came into view. They stepped down and tramped to the fire, four of them.
“I’ll have that,” Majors said, and pulled the hind leg off the joint of the skewered rabbit over the blaze. He gnawed hungrily on it, reminding Vivian of a wild pig rooting at some cactus leaf. He stepped into the circle of firelight and confronted Majors.
“Me and my boys figure it’s about time we called this off. Chavis is long gone by now.”
“Don’t agree,” Majors mumbled through a mouthful of rabbit. “He’s just waitin’ for us to pull off our dogs so he can try some other devilment.”
“He’s gone, Ben,” Vivian said. “And if he ain’t, if he comes back, we’ll have at him then. But this way were just wastin’ time”
“Turnin’ chicken, Sid?”
“I think you know better.”
“Which reminds me. I don’t know that I like that story you gave me about Paul Hilliard. You sure he was cuttin’ down on us?”
“Why else would I have shot him?” Vivian’s eyes were innocent and mocking.
“I still don’t like it. He was my man and he could have done us a lot of good.”
“We’ll find another sheriff, Ben,” Vivian drawled. “How about Pete, here? Pete’d like to be sheriff, wouldn’t you, Pete?”
Vird grinned, not speaking. Majors grunted.
“Don’t let it bother you, Ben.” Vivian was still smiling.
“Maybe I will call this off,” Majors decided. “But you mind one thing, Sid. I’ll have no Flying V man as sheriff. You’re not top dog around here by a long shot. Remember that.”
“Sure, Ben. Sure.”
“I mean that.” Majors was rankled tonight and pushing his point. “Don’t go ridin’ high-hat around the valley. You’re based up here in the hills. Stick to ’em.”
Vivian turned dark.
“Ben,” said Pete Vird, “when we want your orders we’ll ask for ’em. You ain’t so goddamned high and mighty yourself. Before you start kickin’ us around again, remember you got a daughter. I’d hate to see harm come to her.”
“You’ll leave her alone as long as you want to live, Pete,” Majors said flatly, and swung into his saddle.
“Come on, boys. We’re goin’ home.”
“One thing,” Pete said. “I hear your daughter’s in Spanish Flat. You might want to pick her up on your way.”
Majors scowled and pulled his horse around. Vivian said, “Thank the man, Ben.”
Majors glared at him and was gone, his crew swirling after him. Vivian walked back to the fire and kicked dirt over it.
“Let’s go.”
The Flying V mounted and left the campsite. Riding at an easy jog, Pete Vird mused: “Wonder where Shad Carruth was? Didn’t see him with Ben’s bunch.”
“Probably still off wild-goose chasin’.” Vivian made his guess and lapsed into a thoughtful silence which he held until they entered the Flying V compound. Vird was the first off his horse, the first to enter the house, and came barreling immediately out again.
“Somebody’s been here, Sid. Wrecked the inside and stole my forty-five-seventy.”
“Stole a rifle? What the hell for?” Vivian crossed the yard in long strides and was half on the porch when a shot slapped the wall beside him, followed by the echoes of its explosion.
Vivian whirled inside and flattened against the wall. Vird and Corrigan immediately tumbled in with his other two men. “Son of a gun!” Vivian said. “I’m suspicionin’ something. Cover me while I get a look at that gent.”
He dropped flat on the floor and wormed forward until his eyes were past the jamb. “Fire a couple shots out the window.” Corrigan complied and was answered by the flare of a rifle high on the opposite slope.
“That’s enough,” Vivian said. “I’ve got him spotted. Now we’ll just keep quiet and see what he does.”
It wasn’t a long wait. In ten minutes he saw movement on the slope. A shadowy figure mounted its horse and sat outlined against the sky for a brief moment before it went crashing away through the timber.
“Shad Carruth,” Vivian said. “Damn! Ben’s openin’ the ball again.”
“You sure that was Shad?”
“Who else wears a round-top hat like that and rides a mule-eared buckskin?”
“Well,” observed Pete Vird, “I reckon as how that busts up a beautiful partnership, huh?”
Chavis grinned at Bones as he loped out of the trees. He took off Carruth’s big hat and donned his own. “They saw me,” he said. “Now let’s get out of here.”
They moved out at the gallop, keeping to the low spots until they rose along a tilting wall to the clearing where Connie, Niles and McCaig waited. They pushed onto the trail. It was a rough ride, coming down, because they didn’t dare make use of Chainlink Pass, which was the only half-smooth road out of the Yellows. Instead, they rode well around to the south, so that when they finally crossed the Mogul plateau, they were nearer Spanish Flat than Chainlink. Chavis found a way off the rim. Keeping to the protective shadows of the foothills they made the best time possible traveling south. In the short time between now and dawn, they must hide themselves in the town without anyone’s knowing of their presence. But red streaks were sifting into the eastern blackness when they arrived, along no particular trail, at the back of the houses on the western side of the street.
“That’s Hal’s barn,” Riley said softly. They aimed for it, hid the animals quickly inside and went quietly, one by one, to the back porch of the house. Chavis tapped gently on the door.
It took a while. Presently the door eased open. “What in hell do you want at this hour of the night?”
“The use of your house, Hal.”
Craycroft leaned out the door, peering closer. “Oh. Didn’t recognize you. Come on in.”
“I’ve got friends with me. Douse the lamp first.”
“One minute.” After a moment’s silence the light went out and Chavis let Connie into the kitchen. Gary Niles shut the door behind them. Chavis said, “If the curtains are tight, it’ll be safe to light the lamp again.”
Black fled from the room. “Glad you ain’t dead,” Craycroft said. “What happened?”
“In a minute, Hal,” Chavis said. He turned to Niles. “I don’t think Ben knows you’re with us. So you’re the one to do this. Get over to Keene’s and tell him to drift in here and meet us. But tell him to make sure he’s not being followed first.”
“I know that,” the kid said petulantly, and left.
The rest of them settled down in restless impatience while Riley sketched their story to the bartender. Chavis walked a precise line around the room, thoughts running in and out of his mind like field mice scurrying around, thoughts of a past too far gone to ever return.
He broke into the center of Bones’ recounting: “Hal, do you know a man who makes a habit of chewing cigars without lighting them?”
“I don’t think so,” Craycroft said.
Connie was watching them with the gravest kind of care. “I wish that none of this had happened—that we were a long way off and not bothered.”
A vague rhythm set the floor vibrating. “Someone coming,” Chavis said. He went to the window, carefully standing to one side. Bones whipped out the lamp and Chavis pulled the curtain back.
“Niles and Larry,” he said, and let the breath out of his lungs. He had, just then, been wholly prepared to shoot a man out of the saddle if that man proved to be the wrong one. The two riders drifted through the yard and into the barn, and reappeared on foot.
“You made sure you weren’t followed?” Chavis said.
“Sure enough,” said Keene. “What’s up?”
“There’s only one way we can come out of this thing on top, and that is to set Sid and Ben after each other. I set the ball rolling last night by shooting up Vivian’s and pretending to be Shad Carruth. But I need you now. Get hold of Bill Niles and take him up to that tumbledown shack above Chainlink Pass. You know the one?”
“I know it. Will Hardin’s old place.”
“I’ll meet you there sometime tonight.”
“One thing,” Keene said. “Ben doesn’t know you’re here?”
“I hope not.”
“Sara’s at the hotel,” Keene said. “She might be better off where Ben couldn’t find her. When he gets a mad on he doesn’t stop easy.”
“She could stay over here,” Craycroft said. “I guess Ben wouldn’t think of that.”
“Sounds good,” Keene said. “I’ll get her.” He went through the house and, after careful reconnaissance, onto the street.
“We’ve got to get moving,” Chavis said, “before the town wakes up.”
“Got something in mind?” said Bones.
“We’re going to pay a visit to Spur.”
“Ben might be back.”
“We’ll take the chance.”
Late afternoon shadows crossed the street when Spur hit town, eight red-eyed men on sweaty horses. They swept along the street and milled before the hotel while Ben Majors got down and went inside. The Spur men waited restlessly until Majors reappeared on the porch.
He said, “She’s been here and gone. Meanin’ one of three things. She’s at Keene’s, she’s gone back home to Spur, or Sid’s got her.” He mounted and pulled his horse savagely around by the bit. “We’ll try Keene’s first.”