From the high veranda of the rooming house, Buck Halliday saw Red Dank and Wiley ride down the main street. Wiley was leading a second horse and lying across the jolting saddle was the body of a man.
Halliday watched Dank turn in at the saloon hitchrail and swing down. He saw Dank’s head jerk about as Wiley whispered something to him, then saw anger flare in Dank’s ruddy face. When Dank went through the batwings, Wiley brought both horses level with the hitchrack but made no attempt to climb down. It was only then that Halliday recognized the face of the man drooped over the horse.
It was Will Stone ... and he was obviously dead.
Halliday rose from the rocker and walked to the top of the stairs with his breakfast tray. More trouble, he told himself.
His mind backtracked to the previous morning when Dank, Stone and Wiley had walked their horses to the border of Tom Prewett’s ranch and had broken into a gallop that suggested they had something urgent on their minds. Later that same night, Prewett had come to town and called Kerry Hogan a backstabber.
Now Dank and Wiley were back ... and Stone was dead.
Downstairs, Halliday thanked the kitchen hand and noticed that a flush came to her checks when she looked at him. Standing close to her, he noted the lush curves of her body. He gave her a smile and said;
“It’ll be a real lucky man who falls for you.”
The young girl’s face reddened as she took his tray. When Halliday reached the kitchen door, he glanced back to see her still looking at him. He tilted his hat forward, gave her a wink and went on his way.
Walking along the boardwalk, he was soon aware of a rise of excitement in the town. Wiley still sat his horse outside the saloon, but although a crowd had gathered, nobody came closer than twenty feet from the dead man.
When Halliday stepped off the boardwalk and crossed to Wiley, the big man scowled down at him as Halliday examined Stone’s body and said;
“Hit from the front. Did he ride into it, Wiley?”
Wiley shifted about in the saddle and grunted.
“No business of yours, Halliday.”
“Is that the only thing people can say in this town? So why isn’t it, Wiley? I’m on Jude Cowley’s payroll, remember, and one of his men is dead. You expect me not to be curious?”
“Stone never meant anythin’ to you, Halliday, so I don’t see why you should be curious. Mind your business and leave this to me and Red.”
Halliday scrubbed a hand across the back of his neck and shrugged. “Wiley, if somebody killed Will Stone, maybe it was because he worked for the same man we do. That might mean he could take a set against others who work for him. That could include me.”
Wiley’s lips curled back slightly and a sneering look crossed his face. “Don’t think you should fret none on that score. Red and I will get the man who did fer Will. We’ll just have to report to the sheriff, then we’ll be on our way. And we don’t want anyone interferin’.”
Halliday shrugged and went into the saloon to find Red Dank standing at the counter, a glass in one hand and his other hand wrapped around his gun butt as if he was about ready to shoot someone. He wheeled as footsteps sounded on the bare boards, but when he saw who it was, he lifted his hand clear of the gun butt, finished his drink and then growled at the bartender to;
“Don’t just stand there! Leave the bottle and go find Mr. Cowley! Tell him I’ll be waitin’ out back.”
Halliday stood beside Dank and reached for a glass. He poured himself a drink from Dank’s bottle as Hollis removed his apron and hurried out. When Dank scowled at him, Halliday said;
“Have some trouble?”
“Yeah.”
“Trouble you couldn’t handle?”
Anger flared in Dank’s blue eyes, but he said;
“I can handle any trouble that comes my way.”
“Well, what I see is one dead man and another too scared to answer any questions,” Halliday said. “That tells me somethin’ has happened that had you way in over your head.”
Dank’s fist closed so hard around his glass that Halliday expected it could shatter in his grip. When it didn’t, he moved back and rested a hip against the counter. When his gaze didn’t leave Dank’s face, Dank finally let out a held breath.
“They got the drop on us. But it won’t be like that next time. Anyway, I don’t know anyone who’s that scared. You’re not meanin’ me, are you?”
“No, not you.” Halliday drank the whiskey down and refilled his glass. “Wiley. He looks like he wants to be anywhere but here. Must have been rough out there against that bunch, whoever they were.”
“Bunch?” Dank barked. “What damned—”
He cut himself short and Halliday kept his face lowered so Dank couldn’t see the grin on his lips. Finishing his drink, he turned slowly and looked lazily about the room.
“Guess it’s none of my business then until Cowley asks for my opinion. Reckon he might do that, Red?”
Dank wiped a sleeve across his mouth. “Leave me be, will you, Halliday? We ain’t friends and that’s how I want it to stay. You want to play nursemaid, go find Kerry Hogan.”
“I’ll do that, Red,” Halliday said, and moved off.
He crossed to the card tables and picked up a soiled pack of pasteboards. He settled down and absently studied them for marks. He had just discovered a finger-nailed corner on one ace when Jude Cowley, Corey Martin and Wiley entered the room.
Halliday’s attention went straight to the rancher. Somehow he looked bigger and more formidable than before. There was no semblance of tolerance in him now, no attempt to hide the dictatorial attitude of a man who wanted to own everything that came within the sweep of his gaze—land, cattle, men. He pulled Dank close to him, eyes flint hard.
“You messed it, you damn fool!”
Martin toyed with his badge but stayed well behind him, keeping out of harm’s way. Wiley licked his lips nervously.
Halliday watched them closely, knowing he would soon see what Dank was made of. Dank tried to squirm out of Cowley’s strong grip, but when he failed, he seemed to go limp. But his voice was firm when he said;
“You don’t know the full story yet, Mr. Cowley.”
“I know enough, dammit. I had Tom Prewett just where I wanted him. Now I’m—”
“You said to pay—”
Cowley shook Dank violently and then he heaved him back against the counter. Cowley then looked about the room, and sighting Halliday, he suddenly looked unsure of himself. But only for a moment.
Halliday held his gaze, then laid the cards out as if he was playing solitaire. He didn’t look up again until he heard footsteps pounding out of the room to the boardwalk. He looked up to see Cowley and Martin leave with Dank, then he gathered the cards together and got to his feet. As he did so, Wiley pulled out his gun and thumbed back the hammer.
“Mr. Cowley wants ev’ryone to stay where they are, especially the new men who mebbe cain’t be trusted.”
Halliday came to his full height and ignored the threat of Wiley’s gun. “Mind if I get myself a drink?”
Without waiting for an answer, he brushed Wiley aside and dropped money on the counter. When Hollis served him with a trembling hand, Wiley grunted in annoyance and glared at Hollis and then grumbled;
“Well, just so you don’t go followin’ nobody. We ain’t sure of you yet, Halliday, jumping up outta the ground like you did and always wantin’ to be on your own like you was plannin’ somethin’ agin us.”
“What?” Halliday asked casually.
“Just stay where you are, Halliday,” Wiley said tonelessly. “I told you that we don’t trust you, and I reckon that pretty soon Mr. Cowley will start listenin’ to Red and me and make a full check of drifters afore he puts them on his payroll. We sure enough don’t need your kind, standin’ too damn tall in your boots as you do.”
Halliday gave him a bemused look and concentrated on his drink. He was remembering details about Cowley as he had stood in this spot just a few moments ago, a man crippled in one hand but so sure of himself that he didn’t mind locking horns with a fast gun like Red Dank.
The fact that Dank had backed down proved to Halliday that there was more to Cowley than just a man who paid high wages. He doubted if authority alone would worry a hardcase like Dank, who rode just as high on self-confidence.
Halliday had another drink and was about to order another when a gunshot sounded from the street. Wiley turned and broke into a run. Halliday strode through the batwings and saw the man standing just off the boardwalk, looking in the direction of the law office. Corey Martin stood there with a smoking gun in his hand. Red Dank leaned against the wall and Cowley rested against an overhang post, relaxed and looking to be in full control of his temper now.
When Halliday saw a group of Cowley hands moving up the street, with Abe Gordon leading them, he ignored Wiley and made his way in the same direction.
Eyeing him solidly, Wiley kept pace with him. Halliday stopped just short of the law office boardwalk and paused to see what the shooting was about.
He didn’t have long to wait.
Cowley gave Martin a curt nod, and after checking out the crowd which was growing steadily now, the lawman holstered his gun and announced;
“I’m assemblin’ a posse. A peace-loving member of our community has been shot down cold doin’ his duty for Mr. Cowley. I’m talkin’ about Will Stone. And the man who shot him was Tom Prewett.”
A rumble of talk rose from the onlookers. The lawman waited for it to subside before he went on;
“Will was sent out with Red Dank and Len Wiley to stand guard on Mr. Cowley’s waterhole which was being used unlawfully by Prewett to water his cattle. Mr. Cowley, as most of you know by now, has warned people off his land many times. Like any other land owner, he has the right to protect what is lawfully his. Tom decided otherwise. He watered his cattle after Mr. Cowley gave him plenty of warning, then when Will called him out, he shot Will down. So I’m callin’ for a posse to go out and help me bring Tom in.”
There was another rumble of talk before a tall, lean townsman asked;
“Don’t recollect Mr. Cowley having any waterholes close to Tom Prewett’s land, Sheriff. Surely Tom has no need to drive his cattle onto Cowley land when he has enough water on his own, would he?”
“I don’t know about all that. All I know is what Mr. Cowley told me ... and that is that Tom Prewett shot Will Stone dead. So now I’m askin’ for volunteers!”
The towner, under the heavy stares of Red Dank and Jude Cowley, stepped back into the crowd.
Halliday wiped a hand thoughtfully across the side of his face and did some quick thinking. Two men had already been killed and their place was burned to the ground. Kerry Hogan, after a search for the killer, had sold out. Now Prewett, after being pressured into a fight, was being charged with murder. To Halliday, it was clear that Jude Cowley had just made his big move to get his hands on all the land in the valley. And it was all so easy. Cowley had the sheriff doing his bidding, and he had Dank and a tough gun crew so he wouldn’t have to bloody his own hands.
Halliday pursed his lips and thought of Tom Prewett. The man was a good, solid citizen keen to hold onto what was his. Halliday saw no crime in that.
“So I want a posse to come with me and nip this whole sorry saga in the bud,” Martin bellowed. “When facing a bunch of citizens from his own town, I doubt if he will put up any resistance. I’m not expectin’ trouble and I really don’t want any. Now those wantin’ to help, go get your horses ... we move out in ten minutes.”
The sheriff turned to Cowley, who gave him a nod. Men began to break away from the crowd and walk down the street. Halliday watched them go, then he saw Dank fetch two horses from the law office alley while Len Wiley returned to fetch his mount from outside the saloon.
Halliday wondered what he should do. He liked Tom Prewett, the little he’d seen of him. The man was one from the old school, a frontiersman who could be trusted, who paid his own way and who opened up country so others could later reap the rewards. Still undecided, Halliday saw Abe Gordon ride down the street and take his place with four other Cowley hands who had joined up with Wiley.
Gordon’s early arrival surprised Halliday, for it had been Gordon who’d supported Prewett earlier in the saloon. At the time, Halliday had thought the hand of friendship might have existed between the two men.
Gordon’s look settled on Halliday and he felt something testing and curious lurking behind the man’s expressionless eyes.
Halliday went to the livery to collect his sorrel. When he rode back to the main street, the sheriff was addressing the posse.
Then a wagon appeared at the end of the street, and high on the front seat with provisions piled high behind him, was Bo Jackson, looking well pleased with himself, with Marianne beside him. She was young and beautiful, her olive skin gleaming in the sun. Halliday noticed that Jackson seemed to have spent some time cleaning himself up for the trip to town.
Halliday moved away from the dust of the posse as it began to move out. He sent a glance in Jude Cowley’s direction and saw that the rancher was completely taken up with the arrival of Bo Jackson’s wagon.
Halliday heeled his sorrel up to Jackson’s wagon as the man drew rein. Jackson’s face clouded for a moment when he recognized Halliday, but then it brightened.
“Hey!” Jackson called. “Stopped your driftin’, huh?”
Halliday gave the man a wave as he continued on his way. Then he saw Cowley motion to Red Dank, who leaned out of the saddle to listen intently to what the rancher had to say.
Halliday couldn’t be sure, but he thought Dank looked straight at him for a moment. Then he was past the wagon and Cowley was striding away down the boardwalk.
Dank rode past Halliday to link up with Len Wiley and rode his horse so close to Wiley’s that Halliday assumed he was passing on Cowley’s message. Wiley started to turn in the saddle but Dank grabbed hold of his arm. When the two rode away to join Corey Martin at the head of the posse, Halliday turned his thoughts to Bo Jackson.
Jackson’s greeting seemed to have set off a reaction in Jude Cowley’s outfit.
Halliday couldn’t make it out, but he had the strong feeling that the cesspool of trouble here had begun to whirl faster ...