CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“When do we ride, Mr. Salt?” Having to say Mr. Salt rankled, but Seth Koenig needed the man, at least for now.
Salt’s ravaged face was sour as he worked on his first cup of coffee. “We wait for Big John Waters and his riders.”
“When will that be?”
“When will what be?”
“When will Waters arrive?” Koenig was irritable.
“Later today. Tomorrow. Who knows? Soon. Big John is his own man.”
“Who is he?”
A thick morning mist hung over Salt’s camp and the campfires of his assembled twenty-five gunmen created halos of dull red and yellow light. A man lost in the gloom coughed and then hawked and spat. It was not yet seven and the murmur of conversation among the men was desultory and subdued.
“Big John Waters? He’s a Texarkana boy, an outlaw like the rest of us, him and his brother Dave and half a dozen assorted kin of one kind or another. Mostly makes a living running rustled cattle into Mexico, but he’ll rob a bank or hold up a stage if the opportunity presents itself.”
“He a gun?” Koenig said.
Salt smiled behind the rim of his coffee cup. “Better than you’ll ever be, Koenig, so don’t even think about bracing him.”
“No need to brace him. He’s on our side.” Seth returned Salt’s smile, trying to look like everybody’s friend. “I look forward to meeting him.”
Salt made no comment to that and then said, “So ol’ Blade is dead, huh?”
“Yeah. His heart gave out. He’d been feeling poorly for a spell.”
“And you’re the new boss of the Hellfire.”
“Seems like.”
“Where are your hands?”
“They quit on me.”
“Why?”
Seth shrugged. “Didn’t want me as a boss, I guess.”
“I’m sorry to hear about Blade.”
“Yeah, it was a tragedy. Very sad, especially since me and him became such great friends toward the end.”
“How did Blade really die?”
“What do you mean?”
“Five words in my question. How-did-Blade-really-die? It was simple enough.”
“Do you think I killed him?”
“Maybe.”
“Do you care?”
“Not much. But if you killed one boss man you can kill another.”
“He sat up in his coffin.”
“Huh?”
“At the graveside, As we were about to bury him, Blade sat up in his coffin.”
“He wasn’t dead?”
“Maybe he was half-dead. I don’t know.”
Salt let a silence stretch.
Finally Seth said, “I shot him. Bedded him down for good.”
“Shot him while he was sitting up in his coffin? Is that how it was?”
“Yeah. Dead men shouldn’t come back from the edge of the grave. It ain’t decent.”
“And that’s why the punchers quit? Because you killed Blade?”
‘They would’ve quit anyway. Those boys didn’t want a new boss.”
“You mean they didn’t want you?”
Seth said nothing and Salt shook his head. “You’re a snake, Koenig.”
“Hard thing to say to a man who’s gonna make you rich, Salt.”
“Could be, but you’re still a snake.” Then, “Archie Lane didn’t come back.”
“Who?”
“Archie Lane, one of my boys. I sent him to scout the Kerrigan ranch and he didn’t come back.”
Seth grinned. “Maybe he fell for the widow Kerrigan’s charms, huh?”
“Or maybe they shot him. Could be that outfit is tougher than you think, Koenig.”
“We can take them,” Seth said. “Hell, I rode through them and opened the widow’s front door the last time I was there.”
“You’re a tough hombre, huh?”
“I’m tough enough to warn you never to try me.”
“I can’t raise the number of men I wanted, so I’m in for a bigger risk,” Salt said.
“You’ll have enough.”
“Maybe so, but I’m upping the ante.” Salt poured coffee into his cup. His cratered face was grotesque in the harsh morning light.
“Upping the ante how?”
“I want the Hellfire.”
“Salt, when you want, you want big.”
“Time I settled down . . . hung up my guns and got me a wife . . . kids . . . stuff like that.”
“They burned the Hellfire.”
“Who did?”
“The punchers before they left. Burned everything to the ground.”
“With the money you’re paying me, I can rebuild the place,” Salt said.
Seth Koenig thought about that. He wanted the Kerrigan ranch and the redheaded woman. Those were the real prizes. Salt could have the Hellfire and be damned to him.
“All right. It’s yours, Salt. Right after we take the Kerrigan place and we all start living high on the hog.”
“We? There’s no we, Koenig. There’s only you, remember? I’ll take the KK, me and my boys, and then maybe I’ll take it into my head to keep both places.”
“I saw Blade’s books,” Seth said. “And his will. He has money stashed away in half a dozen banks, a lot of money. As his son and heir only I can access it. You’d be losing out on your share of a fortune.”
“How much money?”
“The sort of money you can only dream about, Salt. I’m talking cash money, the kind that isn’t tied up in land and cattle.”
“All right. I was only joking about the Kerrigan place,” Salt said. “I make little jokes now and then.”
“Maybe you were, maybe you weren’t. I don’t give a damn, because you won’t get the ranch or the woman.”
“You can trust me.”
Seth sniggered. “Trust among thieves? Is there such a thing?”
“Koenig, I told you, you can trust me. I’ll hold up my end of the agreement like we planned.”
“As will I.”
“How much money can I expect?”
“You’ll find out when the time comes. A lot, I can tell you that.”
“So be it. I’ll take your word for it, but you’re still a snake.”
Seth extended his hand. “A gentlemen’s agreement, then, one snake to another. Let’s shake on it.”
Salt shook his head. “There’s no call for me to shake your hand.”
“Anything you say . . . partner.” Seth Koenig forced a smile.