The two girls, Seamus Reagan and Lafe Sanger came running up. Molly came straight to Keith and asked. ‘What happened?’ It was Waco who replied. ‘Somebody tried to kill Chicago. Get the hosses and let’s get out of here. The sooner we’re out of town the happier I’ll be.’
‘But what about the police when they come to investigate the shooting?’ Keith, full of ideas about how things would be done in Chicago, asked, ‘Shouldn’t we wait to explain?’
‘Nope. Lafe here’s county deputy sheriff. He’ll handle it for us!’ Waco jerked his head to the corral. ‘Pick two that can move, Rusty gal.’
‘What was it, boy?’ Sanger growled as the girls went to work, picking two horses and saddling them.
‘Like I say, somebody tried to gun Chicago down.’
‘Who?’
‘You can call it as well as I can.’ If Talbot comes tell him we were having home target practice.’
Sanger grunted, looking Keith over. ‘He’s a greener, ain’t he?’
‘Sure.’
‘Man’d say he makes him a tolerable amount of enemies, real fast. You sure it wasn’t somebody after you?’
Waco’s grin was mocking and sardonic as he replied, ‘Could have been, ’cept I was laying right out there in the open and without cover, the man didn’t try for me. He did for Chicago.’ The horses were saddled now and the girls mounted. Sanger scratched the side of his bristly jaw. ‘Like to see you real soon, Waco. This wants some talking out.’
‘Sure, I’d like to see you and Colonel O’Dea both. Where’s the Colonel at now?’
‘Over to one of the nesters, holding a meeting.’
‘We’ll likely be back tonight, then I’ll have something to tell you.’ Waco swung afork his horse. ‘See you later, Lafe.’
They were riding out of town before Keith spoke again. ‘I think we ought to have stayed on and seen the sheriff or some other peace officer, Waco.’
‘There’s only Talbot, the marshal, and he’s no use to us.’ Waco answered. ‘Besides I don’t want you killing just yet.’
‘That man must have been shooting at you, not me, I haven’t been out here and don’t know anybody—’
‘You thought you knew somebody,’ Waco pointed out.
Keith opened his mouth, then closed it again. The girls were now both looking hard at Waco and Molly snapped, ‘Do you mean that man tried to kill Chicago?’
‘Me?’ Waco’s eyes were flickering at the range around them, watchful and alert to locate anything which could spell hidden men. ‘I don’t think, not like you three smart folks. All I know is that if that hombre was after me he’d got a damned funny way of showing it. I was out in the open and a clear shot and it was still Chicago he went for.’
Keith frowned. He was not used to accepting being shot at. He thought the law should do something and said so vehemently. Mary Anne laughed and remarked, ‘You listen to my lil brother, Chicago. He won’t lead you more’n a couple of miles wrong. That damned Kansas sheep, Talbot, wouldn’t do a damned thing.’
‘But if he’s a peace officer—’
‘He’s one of Earp’s dirty crowd,’ Waco growled.
‘But Wyatt Earp is known as a great lawman,’ Keith pointed out.
‘Earp?’ Waco spat the word out. ‘He’s nothing but a lying, bribe-taking, pious hypocrite. Him and all his bunch.’
Keith could see that Wyatt Earp was neither liked nor respected in Texas. Waco’s view was typical of any cowhand who’d come into contact with the Kansas law and order crowd. He changed the subject again. ‘Are you just going to forget it?’
‘Nope, Lafe’ll ask around and when we get back tonight he might know something for us.’
‘What’re you going back for?’ Mary Anne asked grimly.
‘To ask some questions.’
‘Like which?’ Molly wanted to know.
‘For one like how Brarsand knew where Chicago came from without even asking. For another, what sort of gun Brarsand carries.’
‘Then you think it was Brarsand who killed that man in Chicago?’ Mary Anne said, her eyes on Waco’s face. ‘And killed pappy?’
‘Yes, honey. That’s what I think.’ Waco reached over and gripped the girl by the shoulder. ‘That’s just what I think. Tonight Red, Doc, me and the boys are coming in to find out.’
‘Not without the Lazy W boys,’ Molly snapped. ‘This’s their fight, too.’
Before Waco could reply Keith said, ‘Funny the way the smoke over there is acting.’
Looking up Waco saw the puffs of smoke rising into the air. It was not going up as normal smoke should but rising in separate, irregular clouds. Mary Anne noted where it was coming from and gasped. ‘It’s from the house.’
‘Yeah, putting up smoke. It’s an old trick we use at the O.D. Connected to call the hands in fast,’ Waco answered, then set his Kelly pet makers to work sending his horse leaping forward. ‘Let’s go’ The horses sprang forward in a racing gallop, each rider urging speed from their racing animal. Keith was a good rider, he’d always ridden, or all the time from when his father could afford it. He’d ridden in races but never before ridden with such urgency as now. He saw the set faces of his three companions and knew there was something badly wrong here. He was charging into another wild adventure, that he was sure of.
Doc Leroy was throwing a saddle on to his black and yelling to the other hands to saddle up when he heard the thunder of hooves and turned to see who was coming, for all the ranch crew were here now. He felt some relief when he recognized his friend, Waco. At a time like this Waco was worth three other men. ‘Song,’ he yelled. ‘Throw a rope on Waco’s paint.’ By the time Waco brought his sweating horse to a halt by the corral Song was holding the big paint stallion roped ready for him to slap a saddle on it. Waco made good time in saddling the big horse, then he slid the new rifle out and threw a bullet into the chamber. Keith was standing by the girls and Waco called, ‘Take care of them, Chicago. Ride out.’
‘Rustlers, took the stock herd. Red and Larry went after them,’ Doc called back.
‘Willie!’ Molly yelled to a cowhand she knew. ‘Give Chicago your hoss, I want you to go and fetch my crew here.’
Willie swung down from his horse. He did not like the idea of missing a fight but knew better than to disobey an order. Keith swung into the saddle of the horse and sent it after the rest of the party as they rode across the range. He thought how the West was just like in Ned Buntline books. He’d been shot at and now he was riding after rustlers with a posse of cowhands. This was the life and sure beat Chicago.
‘Sorry about this, Willie,’ Mary Anne told the cowhand. ‘I’ll get Lee to bake you a special apple pie and you’ll get your chance tonight unless I’m wrong.’
Willie, a trencherman of note amongst the hearty eating cowhands, was somewhat mollified by this promise of pie. He caught another horse from the remuda and was soon headed across country, making for Lazy W.
Waco brought his horse to a sliding stop and looked at the direction the tracks were leading. ‘They’re headed for the ford on the Ranse likely, Doc. We’d best make for it.’
‘It’s a big risk, boy. We might miss them, they might not have headed there.’
‘We’ll have to chance it. Let’s go.’ Waco swung his horse from the broader line of the herd and headed it in a direct line for the ford of the Ranse River.
Red Blaze left the Wilben house and raced for the foot of the slope, then up it, swerving as he ran. Above him the gunmen strained as they shoved against the weight of the wagon, trying to get it over the lip of the incline and rolling down to smash it into the front of the house. To their side Kell’s eyes glowed murder as he sighted his Spencer rifle on the fast-running man. His rifle cracked loud, sounding even over the curses of the straining men and the crackle of flames as the hay at the front of the wagon blazed up.
It was close, very close. The shirt was ripped from Red’s side as the bullet tore between his arm and side. Red did not halt. He kept on with his fast swerving run and heard the angry slap of another bullet passing close to him. Then he flung himself forward and landed behind a rock. Gripping both hands around the butt of his Colt, Red rested them on the rock and sighted up the slope. He’d seen Dusty Fog, Mark Counter and Waco do creditable shooting at ranges of up to a hundred yards by this method and made practice himself, but knew he was not good. He fired and saw the dirt kick up from the slope well below the wagon. The man with the Spencer sent another bullet down. Red swore after he felt the wind of it passing and knew he would get the next. For once in his life Red was cursing Christopher M. Spencer for devising such an efficient weapon. That .52 caliber rifle was not going to do him any good at all if it hit him.
He lined the gun again and from the corner of his eye saw the man standing, resting one foot on the rock and lining the rifle. Still Red would not allow himself to swerve from his attempt at stopping the men pushing the wagon. His Colt bellowed again and the bullet struck above the men. He saw them suddenly break away from the wagon and run for their horses, then heard the thunder of hooves. The man with the rifle suddenly spun around, his rifle fell from his hands and he toppled forward over the rock. Red came to his feet, recognizing the men who came hurling over the top of the rim. His wild rebel war yell was echoed by Waco whose rifle saved his life.
One of the attackers went down before he even made his horse; a second crumpled over the saddle and slid down. The remainder headed off fast. Cholla Jocelyn did not worry about leaving bodies behind; he was only concerned with saving his life. His horse was running fast now and he knew he would soon be out of range of the Winchesters the cowhands always carried. He heard the slap of a bullet passing his head and urged his horse on at a better speed.
Waco swung down from his horse. It, like the rest of the cowhands’ mounts was hard run and could not hope to catch up on the fast-riding men. One thing was for sure though. He knew that man who was headed out in the lead. There was one sure way to find out and seeing the wagon, guessing what it meant, Waco did not feel any scruples in shooting the man down. He brought up the rifle, lining it and firing fast, working the lever. That was where Jocelyn made the final mistake of his misspent life. He heard the bullet whistle by and thought one of the cowhands must be using either a Sharps or Remington single shot. He was wrong. The rifle Waco was using had almost the range of the two old single shots but with the magazine capacity neither possessed. Four times he fired, flipping open the lever each time to throw another bullet into the breech. On the fourth shot the man stiffened in his saddle and came off the horse to crash into the grass.
Doc Leroy gave a yell. The wagon was inching towards the edge of the slope now. Waco dropped his rifle and flung himself forward, bracing himself. He saw Keith and two of the cowhands leap to his side and even in that moment was pleased to see Keith was the first to move. The boy was going to make a hand, he’d make Molly a real good husband, the Lazy W a good boss.
The heat bit at the men as they strained to force the wagon back. Straggles of burning hay fell. But slowly, as more of the hands came up, the wagon was moved back to safety and Doc Leroy slid a rock under the wheel then watched the others step back. Waco wiped the sweat from his face and turned with a grin to grip Red Blaze’s hand as the redhead reached them. It took a lot to put Red down for long and, despite his narrow escape, he was grinning broadly. ‘Howdy boy, you came back just in time. Everything all right?’
‘Sure, where’s Larry.’
‘I shoved him and the folks from the house down into the cellar. Reckon he’ll be some riled when he gets out. But I couldn’t let him come out here, one target was enough for them at one time.’
The cowhands crowded around Red; their jeering comments hiding their relief at finding both Red and Larry safe. They admired the redhead all the more for shoving Larry to safety before going out to almost certain death.
On the way down the slope Keith was introduced to the others, introduced in a far less formal manner than he’d been used to. He was given just the one name, Chicago, and no attempt was made to explain his presence. He did not know but none was needed; he was introduced by a friend and would be treated as an equal unless he gave cause for the cowhands to change their opinions. They’d noted the way he was the first to leap and help Waco hold the wagon and that was a point in his favor, that he’d ridden with them was another. He was accepted by the time they’d walked down the slope and reached the house. Then they heard hooves and fanned out fast, guns ready.
Colonel O’Dea, Smethers and several nesters came riding up. They all held rifles or shotguns and eyed the cowhands suspiciously. Waco lowered his rifle and stepped forward, ‘Howdy Colonel.’
O’Dea looked first at the cowhands, most of them still holding their rifles ready, then glanced up at the burning wagon. ‘What’s all this, boy?’ he asked.
‘A bunch of guns attacked Wilbens.’ It was Red who answered for the others. ‘Waco and the crew came just in time to stop them rolling that wagon down there.’
‘Now you’re going in to ask Wilben for a drink?’ a nester, a tall angry-looking young man, asked.
‘We’re surely hoping he’ll get one for us,’ Waco agreed knowing this man would be trouble unless handled correctly. ‘Got to get him and his family out of the cellar first.’
There was danger in the air. The nesters were suspicious at finding the cowhands in such a position. The cowhands were angry. They’d ridden here, found two of their friends helping to defend the house, and stopped the blazing hay-wagon. Now these nesters were coming here and looking for trouble. The cowhand was for the most part an amiable, friendly soul, but not when met with ingratitude such as this. There were angry mumbles on both sides.
Swinging down from his horse Colonel O’Dea walked forward and tried the Wilbens’ door It opened and he looked back at the nesters. ‘I take it as trusting, leaving the door open when they’re fighting off an attack.’
The trapdoor lifted carefully and Larry, gun in hand, looked out. He grinned and called down, ‘It’s all right, folks. We can come up now.’
Wilben came out, rubbing his head. He walked across the room and gripped Red’s hand in his own, shaking it. ‘I’m riled with you, Red, so’s Larry, what’s the idea, shoving us down there while you go out and near get killed.’
‘He wants to hog all the honors,’ Larry scoffed, then as they reached the door they found the rest of the party standing around. ‘You came back just in time, Waco.’
‘Unless they were here all the time,’ the nester who’d been doing all the talking growled.
Wilben stepped forward. He saw the anger on the faces of the cowhands and the suspicion of the nesters. ‘Hello Charlie, how’d you lot get here?’ he asked.
‘The Colonel was seeing us over at my place. We heard the shooting and saw the smoke from that wagon of yours and came over in time to see the bunch making for the house.’
‘The S.S.C. had a herd rustled, brought over here.’ Wilben knew the young farmer, Charlie Hedge, did not like cowhands and knew why. He also wanted to end the suspicion between the cowhands and the nesters. ‘The men who stole the herd stampeded it right at us. Red there, and Larry beat them here, turned the herd and helped me defend the house. If they hadn’t been here I wouldn’t have had a chance.’
‘Why’d anybody steal a herd just to stampede it over your place?’ Hedge asked, eyeing the Texans truculently.
‘To cause trouble between the nesters and us,’ Waco remarked. ‘They knew some damned fool would want to make trouble if it happened. And they were right.’
‘What’s that mean?’ Hedge snapped.
‘Some damned fool’s doing just that.’
‘Charlie!’ Wilben’s snapped out word brought the others to a halt as Hedge realized what Waco meant. ‘I know why you’re against these men and I’ve told you I believe what they told us about Ben Silver. Red and Larry came here, risked getting killed to help us. Red stayed up on that slope until the right time to light the hay which turned the herd, Larry carried my Sandy down here when he was shot. Then when the men were going to send that burning wagon down here Red shoved all of us down into the cellar where we’d be safe. Then he went out alone and tried to stop them doing it.’
The other nesters listened to Wilben for they accepted his wisdom in anything. Waco watched them, then said, ‘Talk’s getting us no place. Let’s get those bodies in here and take a look at their faces.’
The cowhands mounted their horses and headed to bring all the bodies in, laying them in a row along the side of the house. Waco went along, removing the masks. The first man was the one Red killed with the Kentucky rifle.
‘That’s one of the Kell boys,’ Hedge growled. ‘Bought that small spread from Brarsand. They’ve allus been friendly when I met them in town.’
‘Was real friendly out there, too.’ Red’s tones were mocking. ‘Where’s the one who was trying to down rne?’
They went along the line and then, as they reached the last, Waco pulled down the mask and nodded. ‘Cholla Jocelyn. I thought it was him.’
‘Brarsand’s men. All of them, they were all hired by Brarsand.’
Waco looked at Hedge. ‘Yeah, mister. Brarsand’s men, all of them. We’d best talk this out.’
The men gathered round in a half circle. Waco stood facing them, one of the youngest here. Yet there was something about him which made the others listen to what he had to say. Before he started to speak he saw Sandy Wilben standing at the door of the cabin. The youngster’s face was showing the same worry as it had that day in Whittle when Dave Tull died.
‘First,’ Waco said, Tm Sunshine Sam Catlan’s boy. You know he was gunned down and I came to get the men who did it. I know why he was killed, or some of it. I know who ordered the killing.’ Then he remembered something Keith said to him. ‘Chicago, who was that hombre Jackson was with when you met him?’
‘Benedict of the Chicago and Texas Railroad. They’re thinking of running a spur line down to Whittle. He was after my father to invest in it.’ Keith realized he was betraying a confidence, but knew that the betrayal was necessary.
‘That’s the reason. Look at the lay of the land. The railroad would come down here, through your land, across the Ranse and along the S.S.C., Lazy W line.’
Talk welled up among the nesters. This was news of vital importance to them, far more so than to the cowhands. Hedge spoke up, ‘What do you make of it, then?’
‘I’ve got it all now. Molly was in Chicago, my pappy killed. They thought either to scare Mary Anne out, or break her.’ Waco went on to explain about the forged letter and what its consequences would have been. The men here knew the lay of the land and did not need it explained in detail. Then he told of his suspicions and the trip to Chicago to find proof. He finished off, ‘That raid on the S.S.C. when the young nester was killed, that was to scare off Mary Anne or stir up trouble which would make her even more willing to sell. Who’d have known that pappy was going fishing that day?’
‘Nearly everybody who was in the tavern that night,’ O’Dea replied. ‘We’d been spinning windies about shooting and fishing and I bet Sam he couldn’t take Old Mossyhom. He said he’d be going out next morning. Brarsand was stakeholder for us. He said he’d go out and see how Sam went on.’
‘Brarsand, did he go alone?’
‘He said he never went. I went out and looked over the ground, there’d been four men there,’ O’Dea replied.
‘How’d one man take all three of them?’ Waco shook his head. ‘Pappy wasn’t good with a gun, but him and the boys would be too much for one man.’
‘Not if they were watching your pappy playing a big bass,’ Red put in, pulling out his handkerchief and unrolling the phantom lure. ‘I found a real big bass and took this out of his mouth.’
‘And Sam’s line was bust when we found him,’ O’Dea said thoughtfully. ‘Brarsand faded out of sight just after the shooting. Della told us he’d gone east on business.’
‘Then Brarsand killed my pappy.’ Waco took the phantom from Red. ‘They’d all be watching the bass, not one of them would give him any attention. That was how he got them.’ He faced Sandy Wilben, eyes hard and voice dropping grimly. ‘All right, what happened the night Ben Silver was killed?’
Sandy gulped. His eyes went to his father but Wilben ordered him to tell anything he could. ‘Ben and me went into the back room of the tavern. Dave Tull and the rest were there. They started to get us drunk, asked us if we wanted to go with them and have some fun. They were going to the S.S.C. to hooraw the hands. Ben was drunk, real drunk. I wasn’t so bad and I got scared. Said I was going out back and just as I was going I saw Tull give Ben one of his guns. I lit out for home and left Ben with them.’
Hedge’s eyes were hard. He turned to Waco and held out his hand. ‘Looks like I owe you an apology, friend. It was just like you told it. What’s Brarsand expect to gain by all this?’
‘The railroad’ll pay good prices for the right of way they want. That land of your’n be worth more’n it was solid gold. The man who owned it all and the two ranches would make him a fortune. That was what Brarsand would be aiming for. Same as the saloon he built. It wouldn’t pay any in a small town like Whittle. But when Whittle boomed open with the railroad he’d be ready. He’d have the first and biggest saloon in town, he’d pile money up before the others could be built.’
‘What’re we going to do, friend?’ Hedge asked for the other nesters. ‘Ben Silver was kin even though I never saw eye to eye with his old man and I don’t take to him being killed.’
‘I’m going to town after Brarsand. There’s one way to prove he killed the man in Chicago, look at his gun. I’ve never seen it, have any of you?’
There was a chorus of no’s to this and O’Dea stepped up to stand by Waco. ‘You haven’t enough proof to take him into court, boy.’
‘That’s right. But I’ll get it one way or the other.’
‘We’re with you,’ Wilben spoke for the nesters.
‘All right. We’ll ride by the S.S.C., pick up more shells, then head into town. It’ll be morning before we can do anything at all. Comes sun-up we’ll go for a showdown.’
Mrs. Wilben came out. ‘Coffee’s on the boil, you’ll have time for a drink before you leave.’
O’Dea came to Waco’s side as the other men gathered together, talking. ‘What’re you going to do, boy?’
‘What I came here for, get the man who shot down my pappy.’