Two more days drifted by, and Tom Kedrick ventured down the trail and the ladders to the canyon below with Laredo and visited their horses concealed in a tiny glade not far away. The Appaloosa nickered and trotted toward him, and Kedrick grinned and scratched his chest. “How’s it, boy? Ready to go places?”
“He’s askin’ for it,” Shad said. He lighted a smoke and squinted his eyes at Kedrick. “What do you aim to do when you do move?”
“Ride around a little. I aim to see Pit Laine, an’ then I’m goin’ to start hunting up every mother’s son that was in that dry-gulching. Especially,” he added, “Dornie Shaw.”
“He’s bad,” Laredo said quietly. “I nevah seen it, but you ask Connie. Shaw’s chain lightnin’. She seen him kill Bob.”
“So one of us dies,” Kedrick said quietly. “I’d go willing enough to take him with me, an’ a few others.”
“That’s it. He’s a killer, but the old bull o’ that woods is Alton Burwick, believe me, he is. Keith is just right-hand man for him, an’ the fall guy if they need one. Burwick’s the poison-mean one.”
* * * * *
With Connie they made their start three days later and rode back trails beyond the rim to the hideout Laine had established. It was Dai Reid himself who stopped them, and his eyes lighted up when he saw Kedrick.
“Ah, Tom!” His broad face beamed. “Like my own son, you are. We’d heard you were kilt dead.”
Pit Laine was standing by the fire, and around him on the ground were a dozen men, most of whom Kedrick recognized. They sat up slowly as the three walked into the open space, and Pit turned. It was the first time Kedrick had seen him, and he was surprised. He was scarcely taller than his sister, but wide in the shoulders and slim in the hips. When he turned, he faced them squarely, and his eyes were sharp and bitter. This was a killing man, Kedrick decided, as dangerous in his own way as that
pocket-size devil, Dornie Shaw.
“I’m Kedrick,” he said, “and this is Connie Duane. I believe you know Shad.”
“We know all of you.” Laine watched them, his eyes alert and curious.
Quietly and concisely, Kedrick explained, and ended by saying: “So there it is. I’ve asked this friend of mine to start an investigation into the whole mess, and to block the sale until the truth is clear. Once the sale is blocked and that investigation started, they won’t be with us long. They could get away with this only if they could keep it covered up, and they had a fair chance of doing that.”
“So we wait and let them run off?” Laine demanded.
“No.” Tom Kedrick shook his head decidedly. “We ride into Mustang … all of us. They have the mayor and the sheriff, but public opinion is largely on our side. Furthermore,” he said quietly, “we ride in the minute they get the news the sale is blocked. Once that news is around town, they will have no friends. The bandwagon riders will get off, and fast.”
“There’ll be shootin’,” one old-timer opined.
“Some,” Kedrick admitted, “but, if I have my way, there’ll be more of hanging. There’s killers in that town, the bunch that dry-gulched Steelman and Slagle. The man who killed Bob McLennon is the man I want.”
Pit Laine turned. “I want him.”
“Sorry, Laine. He killed Bob, an’ Bob was only in town to get a doc for me. You may,” he added, “get your chance, anyway.”
“I’d like a shot at him my own self,” Laredo said quietly, “but somethin’ else bothers me. Who’s this grulla rider? Is he one of you?”
“Gets around plenty,” the old-timer said, “but nobody ever sees him. I reckon he knows this here country better’n any of us. He must’ve been aroun’ here for a long time.”
“What’s he want?” Shad wondered aloud. “That don’t figure.”
Kedrick shrugged. “I’d like to know.” He turned to Dai. “It’s good to see you. I was afraid you’d had trouble.”
“Trouble?” Dai smiled his wide smile. “It’s trouble, you say? All my life there’s been trouble, and where man is, there will be trouble to the end of time, if not of one kind, then another. But I take my trouble as it comes.” He drew deeply on his short-stemmed pipe and glanced at the scar around Kedrick’s skull. “Looks like you’d a bit of it yourself. If you’d a less hard skull, you’d now be dead.”
“I’d not have given a plugged peso for him when I saw him,” Laredo said dryly. “The three of them lyin’ there, bloody an’ shot up. We thought for sure they was all dead. This one, he’d a hole through him, low down an’ mean, an’ that head of his looked like it had been smashed until we moved him. He was lucky as well as thick-skulled.”
* * * * *
Morning found Laredo and Kedrick once more in the saddle. Connie Duane had stayed behind with some of the squatters’ women. Together the two men were pushing on toward Mustang but taking their time, for they had no desire to be seen or approached by any of the company riders.
“There’s nothing much we can do,” Kedrick agreed, “but I want to know the lay of the land in town. It’s mighty important to be able to figure out what will happen when the news hits the place. Right now, everything is right for them. Alton Burwick and Loren Keith are better off than they ever were. Just size it up. They came in here with the land partly held by squatters, with a good claim on the land. That land they managed to get surveyed, and they put in their claim to the best of it, posted the notices, and waited them out. If somebody hadn’t seen one of those notices and read it, the whole sale might have gone through and nobody the wiser. Somebody did see it, and trouble started. They had two mighty able men to contend with, Slagle and McLennon. Well, both of them are dead now. And Steelman, another possible leader, is dead, too. So far as they are aware, nobody knows anything about the deaths of those men or who caused them. I was the one man they had learned they couldn’t depend on, and they think I’m dead. John Gunter brought money into the deal, and he’s dead and out of the picture completely. A few days more and the sale goes through, the land becomes theirs, and there isn’t any organized opposition now. Pit Laine and his group will be named as outlaws, and hunted as such, and, believe me, once the land sale goes through, Keith will be hunting them with a posse of killers.”
“Yeah,” Laredo drawled, “they sure got it sewed up, looks like. But you’re forgettin’ one thing. You’re forgettin’ the girl, Connie Duane.”
“What about her?”
“Look,” Shad said, speaking around his cigarette, “she sloped out of town, right after McLennon was killed. They thought she had been talking to you before, and she told ’em off in the office, said she was gettin’ her money out of it. All right, so suppose she asks for it, and they can’t pay? Suppose,” he added, “she begins to talk and tells what she knows, and they must figure it’s plenty. She was Gunter’s niece, and for all they knew, he told her more than he didn’t tell her.”
“You mean they’ll try to get hold of her?”
“What do you think? They’ll try to get hold of her or kill her.”
Tom Kedrick’s eyes narrowed. “She’ll be safe with Laine,” he said, but an element of doubt was in his voice. “That’s a good crowd.”
Shad shrugged. “Maybe. Don’t forget that Singer was one of them, but he didn’t hesitate to try to kill Sloan or to point him out for Abe Mixus. He was bought off by the company, so maybe there are others.”
* * * * *
At that very moment, in the office of the gray stone building, such a man sat opposite Alton Burwick, while Keith sat in a chair against the wall. The man’s name was Hirst. His face was sallow but determined. “I ain’t lyin’,” he said flatly. “I rode all night to git here, slippin’ out o’ camp on the quiet. She rode in with that gunman, Laredo Shad, and this Kedrick hombre.”
“Kedrick! Alive?” Keith sat forward, his face tense.
“Alive as you or me! Had him most of the hair clipped on one side of his head, an’ a bad scab there. He sort of favored his side, too. Oh, he’d been shot all right, but he’s ridin’ now, believe me!”
The renegade had saved the worst until last. He smiled grimly at Burwick. “I can use some money, Mr. Burwick,” he said, “an’ there’s more I could tell you.”
Burwick stared at him, his eyes glassy hard, then reached into a drawer and threw two gold eagles on the desk. “All right! What can you tell me?”
“Kedrick sent a message to some hombre in Washington name of Ransome. He’s to block the sale of the land until there’s a complete investigation.”
“What?”
Keith came to his feet, his face ashen. This was beyond his calculations. When the idea had first been brought to his attention, it had seemed a very simple, easy way to turn a fast profit. He had excellent connections in Washington through his military career, and with Burwick managing things on the other end and Gunter with the money, it seemed impossible to beat it. He was sure to net a handsome profit, clear his business with Gunter and Burwick, then return East and live quietly on the profits. That it was a crooked deal did not disturb him, but that his friends in the East might learn of it!
“Ransome!” His voice was shocked. “Of all people!”
Frederic Ransome had served with him in the war, and their mutual relationship had been something less than friendly. There had been that episode by the bridge. He flushed at the thought of it, but Ransome knew, and Ransome would use it as a basis for judgment. Kedrick had no way of knowing just how fortunate his choice of Ransome had been.
“That does it!” He got to his feet. “Ransome will bust this wide open and love it!”
He was frightened, and Burwick could see it. He sat there, his gross body filling the chair, wearing the same soiled shirt. His eyes followed Keith with irritation and contempt. Was Keith going bad on him now?
“Get back there,” Burwick said to Hirst, “and keep me informed of all movements. Watch everything closely now, and don’t miss a trick. You will be paid.”
When Hirst had gone, Burwick turned to Keith and smiled with his fat lips. “So does it matter if they slow it up a little? Let them have their investigation. It will come too late.”
“Too late?” Keith was incredulous. “With such witnesses against us as Kedrick, Shad, Connie, and the rest of them?”
“When the time comes,” Burwick said quietly, “there will be no witnesses. Believe me, there won’t be!”