T.K. Oakley grimaced as he tasted the coffee he had warmed over from the night before. He glanced at the cookhouse and saw smoke from a newly lit fire curling up from the chimney. Tucking in his shirttails as he went, he crossed to the bunkhouse and peered in. Buck Tanner, in the midst of a huge yawn, was seated on the edge of his bedding. When he saw the superintendent in the doorway, he straightened and got up.
“Mornin’, T.K.”
Ignoring the greeting, Oakley aimed a finger at Clayt’s empty bunk. “Did he come in last night?”
“No sir—’less he come in and went agin’ ’tween the time I went to sleep and woke up...jus’ now....”
Oakley’s response was a grunt. He turned away and paused just outside the door.
“Before you eat, check Jake’s bunk, then come over to the house.”
“Yes sir,” Buck replied. “Be there in two shakes.”
As he left he saw the cook come out of the cookshack carrying a large pot of coffee. Buck Tanner smiled. Half to himself, he said, “Guess ole’ T.K.’s missin’ havin’ a lotta handy things done fur him now that the girl’s flew off.”
He passed the cook coming back empty-handed. The Mexican cocinero scowled. “Siempre lo mismo! Mas trabajo. Mas trabajo, “he grumbled. The old man grinned. “Ya come here lookin’ fur work, amigo. A little more now an’ then won’t hurt ya none.”
The door to the main room was open. Peering through as he knocked, he saw Oakley pouring two cups of fresh coffee.
“Come and get yours,” he called. “I want to talk to you.”
The superintendent indicated a chair.
“Jake and Clayton rode out last night to finish off the job at Red Creek. They should have been back here well before sunup. Jake’s bunk was not mussed either, was it?”
“Didn’t look slept in to me.”
Oakley nodded and regarded his coffee mug thoughtfully. After another sip he looked up.
“If they don’t show by noon, I’ve got to know what happened. I believe Jake is dumb enough to rope his own hind leg but I don’t think that Clayton fellow is.”
Buck Tanner could guess what was coming. The wait was not long. Oakley took several more sips at his coffee then set it aside. Studying the old hand carefully, he said, “Have you been up to Red Creek? Do you know the lay of the place?”
Buck Tanner blotted his drooping moustache with the back of his hand. “When they was first settlin’ there, I rode by a time or two—cut off from the Vegas road—jes outa curiosity.”
“Did you ever ride down and talk to them?”
“Never did. Didn’t seem like p’ticular friendly folks.”
“Did they see you—I mean were any of them riding around up top when you came by?”
“Not that I saw.”
Oakley toyed with the handle of the mug for a moment.
“In other words, if you rode over to do a little looking around and you ran into any of them, you think they wouldn’t know you?”
Buck shook his head. “No sir. Not if I didn’t want ’em to.”
Bracing his hands on the kitchen table, Oakley got up.
“Alright, Buck, there’ll be extra gold on payday if you can go up there and get me some idea of what happened.”
“I kin do that all right, I reckon, T.K.... But what if I meet ’em comin’ back?”
Oakley smiled. “There’ll still be some bonus gold in your poke. What I want now is an answer—from you or from them.”
“When do you want me to light out?”
“On second thought, better get your grub now and ride out. I want you back here by sundown—with or without them. Bring them back belly down on their saddles if that’s how you find them.”
Buck Tanner reached the trail head well before midday. Dismounting, he walked to the rim and looked down. Nothing had happened to the dam. A half dozen men were still working on repairs. In the saddle again he rode around through the cover to see if Jake and Clayt had tethered their horses. There was no evidence beyond some recent droppings.
Not knowing what to expect, he decided to ride down the trail a bit. About two thirds of the way he stopped when several men working on the dam top discovered him and set aside their tools for their guns.
Cupping his mouth with his hands, Buck shouted at them.
“Don’t git jumpy! I’m Buck Tanner. I gotta see Clay.”
When the men stood, still holding their weapons half ready, he continued. “I’m a friend. If Clayton’s there tell him it’s Buck Tanner—from the Gavilan. He’ll know.”
One of the men left the group and walked quickly to the nearby Adams house. In a moment, Buck saw Clayt come out walking with a marked limp. He waved and called again. Instantly, Clayt broke into a relieved grin. Motioning, he shouted, “Come on down, Buck. You’re welcome. We’ve got some interesting company here—a man you know named Harmer!”
When Buck reached the bottom of the trail, half of the settlement was there, watching him curiously. Clayt was just finishing his fast introductions when Oss emerged from the Deyer house followed by Nelda and Kate. Buck hardly recognized the girl. He broke into a broad grin and ducked his head self-consciously. “Well, I’m sure glad t’see the little lady’s safe, too.” Then, frowning as he swung down from the saddle, he indicated Clayt’s leg. “Looks like you got a bit stove up, son.”
Clayt put an arm around Buck’s shoulder. “It’s nothing. I can guess what brings you here, friend. Oakley wants to know what happened to his two trusted hands.”
“That-there man’s full up with nervous wonderin’, Clay. He sure wants to know what’s happened.” He grinned, “An’ y’know, I’d sorta like to know myself.”
“Alright, Buck, let’s put your horse in the corral and get over to the meeting house.” He turned and pointed to a small, strongly built storage building near the barns. “Jake’s going to be spending some time with us, and after he talks, which he’s surely going to do, he’s going to be spending some time in a federal prison—if he lives to get there.”
The entire community gathered to listen as Clayt told Buck of the nearly messed up plot. The old man listened with wonderment and his head never stopped wagging. When Clayt finished, he ran a callused hand over the stubble on his cheek.
“After I found out what happened here, I come near believin’ that the Good Lord was lookin’ t’other way. Now I sure feel better—except that I wouldn’t trust T.K. Oakley as far as I could throw a dead longhorn.”
Henry Deyer, who was sitting beside Clayt, leaned forward.
’You’re going to have to ride back with a story for Oakley, aren’t you?” Buck grinned and scratched the stubble on his cheek.
“Yes siree!” he replied, “and I’m sure lookin’ forward. He told me to bring ’em belly down on their saddles if that was how I found ’em.” Henry’s smile was humorless.
“Well, my friend, you’ll be riding back alone. But you can tell Oakley that you saw a couple of fresh graves up on top.” He paused. “And tell him his horses are missing.”
The old trail boss beamed with anticipation.
“...an I’m gonna hafta carry the sad news that ole Jake and young Clay here is probab’ly occupyin’ same.”
“For a minute,” Clayt observed, “that was real close to the truth.” Kate Williams’s shoulders sagged and she lowered her head in an act of prayerful gratitude.
Rising, Clayt turned to his mother and Nelda. “Buck’s got a hard ride and a hard time ahead of him. Let’s send him on his way with a good noon dinner.”
The meal was not hurried. After a bit of initial shyness at a properly set and served family meal, Buck answered questions easily about Oakley and Harmer without allowing his own growing hatred to color his responses. But it remained for Clayt to tell them of Buck Tanner’s early life, of his dreams, his kindness at the hands of the Mormons, their slaughter, the mistaken death of his small son and later, his wife’s death.
“I didn’t really want to get into it,” Buck said quietly, ’ ’on account of what you folks bin through.” He brightened suddenly and patted his stomach. “But I sure as shoot...” He broke off with a sheepish expression and coughed. “But I sure wanta tell you folks that you’ve ruint me for Gavilan grub. Jes’ plumb ruint me!”
Clayt and Henry rode with him to the top of the trail. In the piñon clump to the left, they walked him into the spot where they had found the bodies of the two gun slingers.
Buck stared at the stones outlining the graves.
“Lookin’ back now,” he said, “I reckon I never did trust them devils. That scrawny half-breed give me the willies. Never seen it before. He ach’lly slept with his eyes open.”
“One thing,” Clayt said, “you can truthfully tell Oakley that you didn’t see any horses and you did see a couple of graves. He can put any bodies in them he cares to.”
“He’ll do more’n that,” Buck agreed, “he’ll also figger out that with you and Jake dead, he’s not gonna be in any way to give you folks more trouble fur a long time—’least not until he can get a new crew together. And by that time, if you sweat a confession outa Jake—which ain’t likely to happen until he’s jes’ before climbin’ his last set of stairs—T.K. ’s gonna be fresh outa any more hankerin’ to blow things up!” He looked from one to the other. “I’ll take off now, but I sure feel good about the way things is turnin’ out. I got a notion if T.K. didn’t think Jake was dead, he’d see to it himself!”
There were still two hours of working light when Buck turned his horse loose in the corral and pulled down some feed for the other animals there. Oakley sauntered over and stood watching him until he finished putting his things away. Buck was grateful that the superintendent had not begun the questioning immediately. When he was done Oakley indicated the wash trough.
“Clean up and come over to the house.”
Still full from the first really fine meal he had eaten in years, Buck freshened up and found Oakley waiting for him on the porch.
Buck told him of finding two new graves. “I looked around up top but didn’t see no horses.”
“You’d have seen them if you’d been fool enough to go poking around their corral. Jake probably went off half cocked and got them killed for it.” The only evidence of the man’s deep hatred for the two who had bungled the job was the black diamond glint in his eyes and the taut muscles in his long, dark face.
When Buck finished his account, Oakley handed him a ten dollar gold piece, then turned abruptly without further talk and went inside. The old trail boss lingered uncertainly for a minute or so then left for the bunkhouse. The other hands glanced at him curiously from time to time, apparently waiting for him to speak. When he didn’t they curbed their curiosity but the evidence was unsettling. Within a short time two riderless horses had been led in and now two more men were missing, one of them the foreman himself. The only conclusion possible was one that did not make for untroubled sleep.