Although Targue frowned, he raised no objections to the two Texans accompanying him. Scowling around, he called to a group of men at a faro table and asked for help to tote the two unconscious hardcases down to the jail. Venner seemed on the verge of making a comment, but caught Chisum’s eye and kept quiet.
Knowing that he could leave the safe delivery of the trio in Mark’s and the Kid’s hands, Goodnight suggested that the rest of the party should escort Dawn out of the saloon. Chisum said that he would collect his brother Pitzer and some of the men from Sadie’s brothel, then meet the others at the herd. Watching him go, Dawn let out an indignant snort.
‘Do you reckon he knew that they’d put our cattle in the herd all along?’ she asked.
‘I wouldn’t want to go so far as say that,’ Dusty replied. ‘Time we got around the canyon and caught up to them, your stock was mixed in with the herd.’
Not wanting a public discussion about Chisum, Goodnight decided to change the subject. Starting towards the front doors, he remarked, ‘I’d heard that the Kid threw in with you, Dustine. It’s a good thing.’
‘It is, for everybody,’ Dusty agreed. ‘After his pappy was killed, he didn’t cotton to the smuggling game and I reckoned that the OD Connected could use him.’
‘He got out of that game in time,’ Goodnight said. ‘It was all right while they were running supplies in the War, but after Appomattox what they were doing became smuggling again. Sooner or later he’d’ve killed a revenue officer and been on the run.’
Dusty nodded. Smuggling in time of peace and on the Rio Grande was a tough, dangerous business which could easily have seen the Kid driven into a life of real, serious crime. Texas was a far safer place for law-abiding folks with Sam Ysabel’s son in gainful, honest employment.
‘Anyways, Lon’ll be real useful on this drive you’re planning, Uncle Charlie. So’ll Mark, he’s real good with cattle. And we’ll see how it’s done.’
Listening to the men, Dawn wondered what was so special about the next trail drive Goodnight planned to make. Since the War ended, he had been taking cattle to various Army posts. More than that, most cowhands already possessed experience in moving stock from place to place. So she wondered why the OD Connected needed to send its segundo and two men to learn how to handle a herd on the trail. There were other things of interest to the girl, what prices the cattle fetched from the Army and could anybody sell to the soldiers. Yet she could not think how to satisfy her curiosity without causing offence. Not knowing what to say, she took the wisest course and kept quiet.
Looking at the small Texan as they left the saloon, Dawn tried to reconcile his appearance with his reputation. Like most girls in Texas, she had always thought of Dusty as the tall, handsome, dashing cavalry leader who ran the hated Yankees ragged across the Arkansas battlefront. It came as something of a shock to meet him. Then she recalled how he had seemed to loom over the others when facing Keck and the two hardcases, and the speed with which he had moved when dealing with them. A man like Dusty Fog could not be judged in mere feet and inches. Came trouble, he stood tallest of them all.
Going to collect her bayo-tigre, she noticed that the white and bloodbay stallions had been taken from their places. When Dusty walked up to and freed the big paint, she guessed that the other two horses which had so interested her must belong to his friends. Thinking back to the stories she had heard of the Ysabel Kid, she remembered that he was said always to ride a white stallion credited with being a very effective second set of eyes, ears and nostrils for him. From the little she had seen of the white, she figured the tales might have some basis of truth.
‘That’s a real fine hoss, Cap’n Fog,’ Dawn remarked, noticing that he carried a short rifle of some sort in his saddle-boot. ‘I’ll bet he’s a fighter.’
‘He’s all of that,’ Dusty agreed. Before he had ridden and mastered the big paint, it had thrown and crippled Ole Devil Hardin. xiii ‘Why’d you gather those cattle, Miss—?’
‘Sutherland,’ the girl supplied, blushing a little. ‘Dawn Sutherland. It’s about time for the buyer from the Brazoria hide-and-tallow factory to come around. So we’d got a bunch of steers gathered and held to sell to him.’
With conditions so bad in Texas, Dusty could imagine that the Sutherlands had a serious need of the money the cattle would bring. Supporting the Confederacy in the War, the people of the Lone Star State found themselves holding a worthless currency with the South’s defeat. In that respect Dusty’s kin had been fortunate. Due to the foresight of Ole Devil, most of the clan’s wealth had been in gold or invested overseas. So the OD Connected possessed sufficient funds to tide it over. Others had not been so lucky. Most likely the Sutherlands lived from hand to mouth, relying on being able to sell their stock where they could. The loss of the small herd would have dire results unless the steers could be recovered.
‘We’ll see that you get them all back,’ Dusty promised.
Going out to the herd, Dusty explained to Goodnight why his arrival had been delayed. He, Mark and the Kid had been helping a family of mustangers catch wild horses and fight against a murderous band of Mexican bandidos. xiv On reaching the herd, Goodnight decided that they would delay the cutting until Chisum arrived. Before he came, Dusty’s two companions rode up and Dawn saw that she had guessed correctly about their horses. Impatient to find her cattle, the girl rode off to circle the herd. Watching her go, while removing the bedroll from his white’s saddle, the Kid addressed the small Texan.
‘They’re locked away, Dusty, and I’d say that they’ll stay that way if the sheriff has anything to do with it.’
‘Ward Kater’s a good peace officer, Kid,’ Goodnight put in. ‘He’ll do whatever’s right.’
‘Thing I don’t like’s how easy those three yahoos took it,’ Mark commented. ‘You’d’ve expected them to act a mite worried at least; but if they were, they sure didn’t show it.’
‘Maybe they’re figuring on somebody helping them,’ Dusty suggested. ‘Did Targue say anything to them?’
‘Only to shut their mouths, not to tell lies and to get into the cells,’ Mark replied. ‘They went in quiet enough after that.’
‘Where’s Targue now?’ Goodnight inquired.
‘Allowed he was going back for his boss,’ Mark answered. ‘The sheriff says he’ll hold those three yahoos until we’ve cut the herd. Then, if the gal wants it that way, she can go in and swear a complaint against them.’
‘I reckon she’ll want to,’ Dusty guessed. ‘She’s pot boiling mad and I can’t say I blame her. Know something, Uncle Charlie, I’m getting real interested to see what we find when we cut that herd.’
‘And me,’ Goodnight admitted. ‘Until you boys cut in, I’ll admit I was just a mite suspicious about her coming here with that story.’
‘How come, Uncle Charlie?’
‘I’m not the only one with my eye on the Army beef contracts, Dustine. There were a couple of Yankee businessmen at Sumner and they looked some down in the mouth when I got the first contract. So I wondered if maybe they could have fixed up this play to make trouble for me.’
‘They didn’t know we were around,’ Dusty said. ‘It’s not likely they’d’ve gone to the trouble of having the girl hide while they drove off the herd.’
‘I know,’ agreed Goodnight. ‘So it looks like she’s telling the truth.’
At that moment the girl returned and brought her bayo-tigre to a halt. Excitement flickered on her face and she pointed towards the cattle.
‘I reckon I’ve seen some of mine,’ she announced. ‘There’s a big golondrino muley I’d know any old place on the other side of the herd.’
Although golondrino—dunnish brown merging into black, with white speckles or blotches on the rump—was not an unusual color, a muley’s hornless head made it noticeable. To a girl like Dawn, raised on a ranch and having worked around it most of her growing life, recognizing cattle came almost naturally. The men reckoned that she knew enough to identify a noticeable animal belonging to her spread.
‘You want for me to go and cut it out, Dusty?’ Mark asked.
‘Best leave it until Chisum gets here,’ the small Texan decided.
‘Which’ll be right soon,’ drawled the Kid. ‘He’s coming right now, and bringing company.’
‘Seven of ’em, not counting John and Pitzer,’ Goodnight went on, studying the approaching party. ‘Got their chuck wagon along, and the remuda’s following.’
Which could be a suspicious point, or harmless. If Chisum was an innocent victim, he would take the opportunity to join up with Goodnight’s herd. Should he be involved in theft of Dawn’s cattle, Chisum knew Goodnight well enough to be aware that their partnership was over.
‘They’re an ornery-looking bunch,’ Dawn remarked.
‘Real ornery,’ Dusty agreed. ‘How about the four fellers with the herd, Uncle Charlie?’
‘They’re my boys,’ the rancher answered.
‘Damned if we don’t near on have ’em out-numbered,’ said the Kid and looked at the butt of the rifle in his saddle boot.
‘Injuns never learn to count, ma’am,’ Mark explained to Dawn who was hurriedly doing mental arithmetic.
‘Looks that way,’ the girl smiled.
‘Leave it, you danged Pehnane slit-eye!’ Dusty hissed as the Kid bent in a casual manner towards the rifle. ‘Mr. Chisum’s Uncle Charlie’s friend.’
‘You got friends like him, you don’t need enemies,’ grinned the Kid and straightened up empty-handed.
‘I’ll tell you whether he’s my friend after we’ve cut the herd,’ Goodnight growled, his face tight-lipped and grim, and waved his hand.
At their boss’s signal, the four cowhands left their places around the herd and converged on him. They were tanned, leathery men with low-hanging guns; but not the surly, hardcase kind hired by Chisum. Asking no questions, the four Swinging G cowhands took positions ideally suited to backing Goodnight in any play he made.
The chuckwagon and remuda came to a halt about a hundred yards from where Goodnight’s party waited. Drawing nearer, Chisum’s hands studied the Swinging G and OD Connected men.
‘We’re going to cut the herd,’ Goodnight announced and saw the disconcerted way in which Pitzer—a dandy-dressed, younger edition of his brother—and the Chisum cowhands exchanged glances. ‘I want all the D4S cattle you find bringing out here.’
‘You heard Colonel Charlie,’ Chisum called. ‘Let’s get to it.’
‘I’d say it’d be quicker if we work in pairs, Uncle Charlie,’ Dusty put in. ‘You go with Mr. Chisum, I’ll side Targue and Mark’ll help Pitzer.’
‘That’s how we’ll do it,’ Goodnight agreed, grinning inwardly as he caught the purpose of Dusty’s idea. ‘Two men can see a whole heap more than one.’
Giving Chisum no time to organize a protest, Goodnight assigned the Kid, Dawn or one of his men to work with each of the Long Rail hands. The girl found herself paired up with a lantern-jawed hardcase who eyed her in a cold, threatening manner. For a moment she felt just a touch of fear. Once among the cattle it would be easy to arrange for an ‘accident’ to happen. A quick, unseen push to topple her from the bayo-tigre’s back and her chances of escape would be slight. On foot among the cattle, she was certain to be attacked and gored before the men could save her.
Then Dawn saw the Kid rein in his white stallion at her companion’s side.
‘Look after the lady, feller,’ the dark youngster purred in that gentle tone so well known and feared in the lower Rio Grande border country. ‘Just as a lil favor for me. I’ll be close by to thank you.’
Which meant, as Dawn and—from the expression on his face—the hardcase knew, ‘Don’t try anything. If the girl gets hurt in any way, so will you only a whole heap worse.’
‘Sure, Kid,’ the man gulped. ‘I’ll do just that.’
‘We’ll start round the other side,’ Dawn decided and, with the Kid hovering menacingly in the background, the Long Rail hardcase raised no objections.
Circling around the herd, the girl watched until she saw the golondrino muley. Experience had taught her that longhorns tended to be clannish. Even when mixed in a large herd, they would try to stick close to familiar faces among the strangers. That ought to make cutting out her stock a comparatively simple task.
Pointing out the muley to the man, Dawn edged her bayo-tigre into the herd. With the Kid’s threat still echoing in his ears, the hardcase followed. While not a praying man under normal conditions, he came mighty close to doing so and requesting that divine providence kept the girl from harm. If she met with even a genuine accident, the Long Rail hand figured himself to have mighty short life-expectancy. The Ysabel Kid did not hand out a warning unless he fully intended to carry it through all the way.
While Dawn eased the golondrino clear of the herd, the hardcase spotted other cattle bearing her father’s D4S brand. On their way from town, Chisum had told his men what had happened and given certain instructions. Yet the hardcase saw no way in which he might carry them out, not with the girl at his side and watching his every move. So he accepted the inevitable and forced another of the Sutherland longhorns into the open.
Not far from where Dawn was working the Kid and his partner helped to cut out more of the D4S cattle. Considering their experience in such matters, it came as something of a surprise for the girl to see that Dusty, Mark and Goodnight made no attempt to join her where her cattle were concentrated. Instead they seemed more concerned with combing the less productive areas of the herd. Once she noticed Chisum pointing her way and clearly making a suggestion that he and Goodnight should join her, but he was refused. The bearded rancher’s face grew into colder, grimmer lines as the work continued.
Instead of being allowed to skim through the herd and produce a few of the D4S cattle, each of the Long Rail men found himself accompanied by a rider who meant to see the work was done correctly. Even without needing to be told, Goodnight’s cowhands guessed what lay behind Dusty’s suggestion of pairing up to cut the herd. So the combing-out process was very thorough. At the end of it something over a hundred steers, all with a large D4S brand burned indelibly on their left flanks, stood clear of the main bunch.
With the work completed, the two parties gathered behind their respective leaders. In view of what she had seen while working among the cattle, Dawn felt sure that a showdown between Goodnight and Chisum was close at hand. For all that, Chisum showed little sign of concern.
‘I’d say that’s all you lost, Miss Sutherland,’ the rancher stated, shoving back his hat and mopping his bald head with a cheap bandana. ‘And I’d like to say that I don’t know how they got mixed in with my herd.’
‘Maybe Pitzer can tell us,’ Goodnight suggested coldly.
‘Sure I can,’ the younger Chisum brother agreed. ‘Them three fellers drove ’em in just’s we was bedding down for the night. Targue and me was on the other side of the herd and Keck just shoved ’em straight in with our’n. Allowed they was a bunch of mavericks when I asked.’
To anybody who knew Pitzer’s character, the answer was feasible. He had a disinclination to work and would be unlikely to investigate the trio’s story too closely if doing so required effort on his part. Unfortunately the combing of the herd had been very thorough and brought out a major discrepancy in young Chisum’s glib tale.
‘Did the same thing happen with all those Bench P steers I saw?’ Mark asked. ‘And to those Rocking N and Double Two stock you’ve got along?’
‘Or to the Flying H ’n’ Lazy F stuff that’s there?’ the Kid went on.
‘I saw some mavericks,’ Dusty continued. ‘Even a few maps of Mexico. xv Fact being, Mr. Chisum, the only brand I didn’t see any place in that herd was the Long Rail.’
Silence, broken only by the slight restless moving of the horses, dropped ominously after Dusty’s blunt statement and the two sides eyed each other warily. Every man present, and the girl, knew the implications behind the small Texan’s words. So the hired hands waited and watched to see how their respective employers wanted the situation to develop.
Slouching in his saddle, Chisum slowly thrust away his bandana. He sensed danger and knew that he must pick his words very carefully if he hoped to steer clear of being held responsible for his brother’s actions. Avoiding trouble unless he held the whip hand had always been Chisum’s way. Making a quick assessment of the situation, he knew that he did not hold it at that moment. Backed by the three OD Connected riders and his own cowhands, Goodnight had a fighting force to be reckoned with. The four Swinging G cowhands could be counted on to stand by their boss from soda to hock no matter how tough the going. Chisum had no such faith in his hired hardcases, especially those who came with Targue. So the bald rancher decided to make use of his wily charm and try to ease out of the difficulty peaceably.
‘You said that you needed the eleven hundred head in a real hurry, Charlie,’ Chisum pointed out in his most unctuous and placating manner. ‘So brother Pitzer allowed it’d be quicker to round up some strays instead of going right back to the Long Rail and gathering our stuff.’
A neat way out, in Chisum’s opinion, laying all the blame on his younger brother’s incompetent shoulders. Pitzer scowled at the words, but he had grown accustomed to being used as a whipping boy and kept quiet.
‘Most of those “strays” have brands on them, Mr. Chisum,’ Dusty reminded.
On the open range, a bull, cow, calf or steer belonged to whoever’s brand it carried, no matter where it might be found. Left to forage for themselves all year round, Texas longhorns were great travelers. So the code of ownership by brand rather than location gave protection to the ranchers.
‘Likely the boys were a mite over-eager,’ Chisum answered blandly. ‘Them wanting to help Colonel Charlie out of a tight spot and all.’
‘Helping out’s not what I’d call it,’ Dusty stated and the men behind Goodnight tensed ready to meet the explosion if it came.
‘Or me!’ Goodnight growled, giving complete backing to his nephew’s words. ‘What was the idea, Chisum, mix them in with my shipping herd and hope that I didn’t notice the brands?’
‘Do you reckon I’d do a meanness like that, Charlie?’ Chisum asked in tones of pained disappointment. ‘After all the time we’ve knowed each other.’
‘You didn’t have them brought here because they need the exercise,’ Goodnight answered.
‘Charlie, Charlie!’ Chisum sighed. ‘We’re been doing business together for a fair time now—.’
‘And in all that time I’ve never taken anything but straight-branded cattle from you,’ Goodnight reminded him. ‘I’m not starting to buy stolen cattle now.’
‘Can’t say’s how I like what you just said, Charlie. But I’m not fixing to fight a real good friend over a lil misunderstanding.’
‘That’s not the name I’d put to what you’ve done today,’ Goodnight grunted, nodding towards the herd.
‘I’m not arguing with you, Charlie,’ Chisum insisted. ‘If you don’t want these-here cattle—’
‘I don’t!’
‘Then that’s all there is to it. Nobody can say that John Chisum tried to force his will on other folks. I’ll just take the rest of them back where they come from and turn ’em loose again. Only I don’t figure on raising sweat gathering and bringing you anymore.’