He was a fool, a voice within him kept warning, a fool to deviate from his avowed purpose of tracking down Pete Dillard and calling him to account, a fool for mixing into something that was none of his concern. To turn away now when he was so near Tucson, take a hand in a range-grabbing affair that could end only one way, with the big man grinding the little one under, was utter foolishness. He should forget the Rakers, the night riders, and greedy men like John Grosinger; he should stick to his own need, find Dillard, and ease the fires of vengeance and hate searing through his guts. The inner voice pushed at him relentlessly, reminding him over and over again of his original determination to right the wrong Dillard had done him, but it did not slow or turn him back, something stronger than his own hunger holding him steadfast. In his own mind he was not sure why he was doing it. Perhaps it was an outgrowth of his own early struggle against overwhelming odds, the weak against the strong, the David and Goliath story in ninteenth-century dress, or possibly it simply sprang from the innate goodness of men always present in one form or another. He didn’t know and he was a man who dwelt little on cause and effect and did what he felt he must do.
An hour later he broke out of the tree-studded hills and came onto the long flat that formed the floor of the valley. At once he came to sharp attention. Far ahead a smudge of dirty gray was mounting into the sky. Lockett frowned as he studied it. The Raker place lay in that direction. Could it be the raiders had struck again, or was it just a range fire? He wasted no time puzzling over it but immediately roweled the chestnut into a fast lope for the ugly mass rapidly growing in size and darkening in color as it hung over the land.
Dade swore deeply. John Grosinger, at the very time they were holding their conversation, and who had taken such pains to deny any connection with the hooded riders, had been aware that his men were probably moving in on the Raker place at that moment! He was a cold-blooded one all right, and everything old Renzo Clark figured him to be. The chestnut raced on and with each passing mile the anxiety within Dade Lockett increased. He was certain now it was not a range fire; the source of the smoke was too concentrated and not spreading as it could be expected to do. Judging from the size of the blackening cloud, he would guess that the raiders had fired all of the buildings on the ranch; likely their orders had been to leave nothing standing, and faced with this Roxie and Clint would have no choice but to give in. Again, he swore. He should never have ridden out that morning! He should have stayed there, then he could have been of some help to the Rakers. Now maybe it was too late.
Cresting the last rise on the vast plain, he saw the ranch on ahead. Flames were shooting into the sky and smoke was a great, boiling cloud surging upward. He could see Roxanne and Clark running back and forth in the yard behind the house, which had not yet caught fire, and realized most of the ominous cloud was arising from the hay stored in the barn.
Reaching the gate he swung onto the hardpack, thundered across the intervening space, and pulled up short. Leaping from the saddle, he hurried to join the girl and the old cowhand. Roxie glanced up, fear blanking her eyes, and then they filled with relief when she saw he was not one of the raiders. Seizing one of the buckets, Lockett dipped it into the water trough, hurried to where Renzo was sloshing his container full against one of the small sheds. The barn was lost, burning furiously out of all possible control; the need now was to save the nearby sheds.
Clark bobbed to him as he rushed up, moved on by on a return trip to the trough. Dade tossed his bucketful against the steaming tool shed, assessed its probabilities and that of other nearby structures in a quick glance, and wheeled to refill his container.
Roxie, breathing heavily, was resting against the side of the pump housing. Renzo, too, had paused, and was sucking hard for wind. Taking up the bucket being used by the girl, Lockett filled it along with his own and for several more minutes continued to soak the walls of the structures that faced the doomed barn until danger of their breaking out into flames had passed.
“Reckon we done it,” Renzo said wearily, mopping at his sooty face with a bandanna. “Sure glad you come along when you did.”
Dade squatted on his heels, glanced around. Only the barn had been consumed by the fire. “The horses?” he asked.
“Got them out in time,” Roxie replied. Her features, too, were streaked with black and there were several burned places in her shirtwaist and dress where live sparks had fallen. “All we lost was the barn … and the things stored in it.”
“The same bunch of raiders?”
“Far as we could tell.”
Lockett could feel the girl’s eyes on him, studying him closely. “I was talking to Grosinger. Must’ve been about the time they hit you.”
“That’d be him, all right!” Renzo declared angrily. “Ain’t taking no chance hisself … just sets off to the side and lets them sidewinders do the dirty work for him.”
“He claimed the raiders don’t work for him.”
“You figure he’d say they did?”
“No. I expected him to deny like he did. Clint all right?”
Roxie nodded, said quietly: “Why did you come back?”
Lockett shrugged. “Ain’t real sure. Guess it was running into Grosinger. The way he acted stirred me up some. That job you offered still open?”
The girl stirred indifferently. “Oh, I don’t know. Not sure I want to stay now. I’m tired of … of all this,” she said, motioning at the charred, smoking remains of the barn.
Renzo Clark drew himself up in surprise. “I ain’t hearing you right, am I? You thinking on quitting right when you got a chance to beat Grosinger?”
Roxie gave that several moments’ consideration. She faced Dade. “You believe we can?”
“Ain’t nothing in this world that’s a cinch, but we can sure give it a mighty good try.”
“But with the men he’s got … and there’s only three of us … maybe four if Clint gets better … how can we …?”
“First thing to do is fort up, be ready for them when they come back.”
Renzo was nodding vigorously. “That’s the kind of talk I been wanting to hear. We can do it if we just set our minds to it.”
Roxie gave the older man a quick, sidelong look, then smiled tiredly. “What do we do first?”
“Start getting set. I’ll plan on driving those steers over to Pogue’s in the morning. You said it’d take a couple of days or so … and that’s the part that’s bothering me. Don’t like leaving you here alone.”
“It might be best to forget it.”
“No, that’d be backing down to Grosinger and we don’t want him thinking that. Besides, you said you needed the money bad.”
“We do.”
“Then we go ahead. Only thing, while I’m gone you’re both to stay close to the house.”
“Got chores to do,” Renzo said doubtfully.
“Have to let them ride until I’m back. We’ll spend the rest of the day getting things lined up just in case. Are there plenty of cartridges for those guns I saw you using?”
“I guess so,” Roxie replied.
“See about it. I want all the weapons you’ve got, along with all the ammunition put there on that table in the front room where they’ll be handy. I aim to work that rifle over, too, see if I can keep it from jamming. Renzo, I’d like for you to take a close look at the doors and windows, be sure they can be locked tight and there’s no chance of busting them in.”
“You bet,” the old cowhand said, grinning. “That bunch shows up again they’re going to be bucking for the graveyard.”
“I’m hoping it won’t come down to that but we’d best plan on it just the same. Anyway, if nothing happens while I’m gone, it’s sure to come later and we want to be ready.”
“We?” Roxie repeated. “Does that mean you’re going to stay even after you’ve driven the cattle to Pogue’s?”
“Yeah, figured I’d stick around for a spell, keep the odds sort of evened up until things are settled one way or another. That is, if that’s what you’re wanting.”
The girl was silent for a long minute. Then: “It is. I had my doubts after you rode off this morning. Actually I was about ready to make a deal with anybody who would give me a good price for the place. But now, if you’re willing to help, I can see things differently.”
“Ain’t no guarantees how we’ll come out.”
“I know that and it doesn’t matter. The fact that you are giving up whatever that important business was that you had in mind to stand by us made me realize how necessary it was that I … we … hang onto what is ours. I’m ready now to fight John Grosinger, and everybody else to a finish.”
“Win, lose, or draw,” Renzo Clark added soberly.
Roxie nodded. “Win, lose, or draw.”