MONTANA’S ANGER WAS sharpening with the resurgence of memory and what he already knew of the present situation. His glance swept the Yazoo crew mockingly. “Otherwise they’ll do well, and so will you, to reach high and hold steady, while my friends relieve you and them of excess hardware.”
Denise watched, her lips parted in growing excitement. Big George looked as though he had drawn back from an unsuspected brink. Crab Herrick’s wizened countenance shared a pleased emotion with the others as they moved to appropriate rifles and revolvers.
Like their leader, Sills’ crew remained uncertain, immobilized by surprise and the menace of the guns. Sills choked.
“You’ll never get away with this—or out of the country.”
“Are you indirectly suggesting that for our own safety we should adopt your methods of murder?” Montana wondered. “But that would be a bit blood-thirsty. And are you forgetting that you’ve been wanting us to move out? We will do that in the morning. Until we are beyond your range, we’ll keep your guns, though they will be left for you, once that line is crossed.
“Of course you’ll have others. But as a friendly suggestion, don’t come asking for trouble.”
The man’s self-control, in the grip of such rage, was at once admirable and frightening. He bowed a second time.
“One battle does not make a war.”
The words were at once a promise and threat, but short of adopting their own methods, there was nothing to do but let them go, knowing that it would be an armed truce with opponents devoid of scruples. Montana waved a hand in dismissal. Nothing more was said as the crew from Yazoo swung and headed back over the hill, though most of the hardcases, armed with the newly acquired rifles, loped at their heels to make sure that there was no hesitation.
Big George watched, sober-faced, but he could not keep the glee from his tone.
“Cap’n Abbott suh, you ain’t changed none since we was in the ahmy together. Kind of made me jumpy, once I recognized Majah Sills an’ he knew me—them whiskers sho’ does change him. But I knew you’d give him his come-uppance, which you sho’ly did.”
“I was remembering,” Montana said.
“An’ he sho’ had it coming. He can talk pretty as a rose smells, when it suits him, but he has more thorns than a rose. Reckon he was the meanest man I ever knew, back when he had that plantation. I heard that Gin-ral Sherman burned it—which was a good piece of work on his part.”
Denise turned back soberly, having watched the others fade from sight.
“I owe more and more to you, Montana. Now that you have recognized him and I remembered him, I understand a lot that puzzled me before. He’s so terrible.”
“You knew him back along the Yazoo, then?”
“Slightly. Never at all well, though he wanted to marry me, even then. But he’d lost all the property he had before the war, and his activities were more and more questionable. It was the general opinion that he had turned to outlawry. Soon after, he disappeared, apparently to keep ahead of the law. I never heard of him again until we encountered him here. There was something about him which seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place him, and it never occurred to me that he could be Sills—”
That was understandable, though there was something in this which seemed to Montana to go well beyond chance or coincidence. Miss Denny was understandably upset, and he disliked questioning her, especially on matters of so personal a nature. Still, he had a feeling that some aspect of this might be vitally important.
“You didn’t know Big George back there?”
“No. Neither him nor Major Sills, before the war. It was only after he returned that he met me.”
“And of course you couldn’t guess that he might be out this way, just as your brother was—” It was a musing remark, more to himself than to anyone else. He was surprised by her vehemence.
“Of course I didn’t know or guess. I came on account of Tom. That was reason enough.”
“Of course,” he agreed. And it was reason enough. But was it her only reason? He could only take her word that it was. Meanwhile their problems, far from being resolved, would grow worse. Sills was not the man to suffer such an affront lightly, and his reputation in the army had been one of unyielding stubbornness and determination.
“Now he’s your enemy,” Denise added, as though joining in the same train of thought. “What are we going to do? I suppose we have to move with the herd in the morning. But where can we go? Once we’re off this land which is claimed by Yazoo, we’ll be trespassing on range belonging to others, and I suppose will be just as unwelcome. I’m at my wit’s end as to what to do.”
“As long as we keep the cattle moving, most outfits will probably be reasonable,” Montana pointed out. “He has special reasons for being ornery, but not many are as cussed as him to begin with.
“As to where to take the herd, I’ve been thinking. Perhaps we can help each other. I have land in Montana, as fine a spread as ever lay outdoors. What I don’t have is a herd to stock it. I came over here, looking to buy cattle, and your herd fills the bill. We might form a partnership, at least for a while, your cattle and my land, a fifty-fifty deal.”
As she listened, her eyes widened with growing excitement. Apparently such a solution had not occurred to her.
“Why, that … what you’re offering sounds almost too good to be true,” she gasped, and turned to Evers, who had come up in time to hear the offer. “What do you think?”
Evers had put on a coat since their experience at the river. From one of its pockets he extracted half a plug of tobacco, intended for chewing rather than smoking. With a pocket knife he shaved off a few slivers, packing them with absent-minded attention into a pipe.
“Everything considered, it seems like a good deal all around.” He got the pipe alight, blowing out a cloud of smoke. “And from the things I’ve heard about Captain Abbott, along with what we’ve seen today, I’d say that he’s the man can get us out of this and across to Montana, if anyone can.”
Clearly she respected his opinion, as well as the fact that he owned a minor interest in the herd.
Denise thrust out her hand, and Montana gripped it, binding the deal. The feel of it confirmed his earlier impression, that it was no stranger to hard work, though remaining soft and pliant.
“I’m pleased, partner,” she said. “And this will help you—under the circumstances. I’m glad about that, too.”
As far as the lost poke of gold was concerned, a half-interest in the herd, in return for a range to run on, was reasonable. When setting out for Oregon, Montana had counted on full ownership, but then he hadn’t envisioned such a partner.
Outfits along their way, which had been suspicious or hostile toward a herd openly seeking grass, would lose much of their mistrust once they understood that no threat was posed to their holdings.
It had been a hard day for everyone, and as the others returned, they were ready for sleep. Montana - posted two men to ride and guard the herd for the first part of the night, one of them Big George. He intended to be on the second shift himself. Should Sills, fuming with humiliation, choose to strike before the night was over, it would probably come not far short of dawn.