‘You stay right where you are,’ snapped Tex to the girl, as he swung into the saddle. ‘Maybe there’s trouble and you don’t want to be mixed up in it.’
Linda didn’t reply – for one thing she had no chance – for Tex continued swiftly, ‘Or maybe you’d best get back to the Lazy Y pronto … you can make it without touching the pass?’
‘Yes, there’s another way, the route I used coming.’
‘OK, get movin’ then … I oughtn’t to leave you, but I got to find out what’s cookin’.’
The girl smiled briefly.
‘I can look after myself, I don’t need a nurse.’
Tex hesitated. He wasn’t used to having girls around the place when he was moving into action. His first instinct had been to go straight into action; but then he’d realized that according to the rules he oughtn’t to leave Linda to fend for herself. Certainly he wasn’t taking her with him over the pass. He hesitated in spite of what she had said and in spite of the proof she had given that she could indeed look after herself; but then came yet another shot from over the pass. Something was cooking all right, and it could be that the Kid was operating.
Linda made up his mind for him. Without warning she gave his pony a cut across the rump with the switch she took from the top of her boot. The animal reared and then was away. The last Tex saw of the girl for some little time was as she ran to her own beast and mounted, swinging down the trail away from the pass.
It looked like that was that. She was away and it was doubtful if he could catch her even if he tried. He comforted himself with the memory of the way she had handled the gun. He pressed on up the sloping trail, entering the defile. He judged that the shots had come from the other side of the pass, which meant he ought to be able to negotiate the dangerous gorge safely and without interference. There might be an alternative route bypassing the defile but he didn’t know and had no time to explore.
He got through the pass without incident, however, came to a point beyond the highest point from where he could see the flat country beyond, ranching country running down to Grant’s River and past the settlement for many miles.
Tex halted for a few moments, ears strained, eyes peering. No more shots came, but he had not imagined those heard earlier.
He pushed on more cautiously, until he came within a hundred yards of a sharp bend in the trail ahead. The cliffs had now dropped back and on either side of the trail was broken foothill ground showing jagged outcrops huddled close, though between them was open ground. The area offered the possibility of cover and also of some manoeuvre, unlike the defile through which Tex had recently passed.
He dismounted, led his pony towards the bend and then left the beast while he himself proceeded on foot. Those taking part in the shooting might well have moved quite a way during the interval occupied by Tex in reaching his present position, but on the other hand no move might yet have been made. According to his judgment the shots had been fired mighty near to where he now was. He was taking no chances.
Clustered at the bend were rocks. He reached them and cautiously negotiated the bend well under cover. He got into position from where he could see the trail beyond the bend stretching straight, running slightly downhill. What he saw made him glad he’d taken precautions.
Three hundred yards down the trail two men stood with their hands up, their ponies tethered nearby. Two other men, mounted, had their guns out, covering the others. Tex Scarron’s eyes narrowed as he saw in the moonlight that masks covered the features of the mounted guys and that one of them was dressed all in black, without a spot of colour to relieve it. It was well-known that the Kid favoured black.
His companion dismounted as Tex watched, swung lightly to the ground and with his gun still in one hand approached the prisoners. He began to frisk the first, whom Tex could see was a gigantic man, larger even than himself and he judged much heavier. The other was shorter by a good foot, as thin as a lath, with hunched shoulders and a lean face which under the moon showed pallid.
It looked like the Kid and his accomplice had only just got around to grabbing their victims, otherwise they’d have been frisked earlier. Some sort of a fight must have been put up. Tex reckoned he’d arrived on the scene at just about the right moment.
He backed away from the rocks. He had little doubt that the notorious Kid himself was at work. Both he and his companion had black kerchiefs tied so that only their eyes showed. Tex knew that even at close quarters it would be impossible to identify them – until the masks were ripped away. He aimed to make sure that before long the kerchiefs were taken off. The Kid was going to be unlucky tonight, he hoped.
There was no point in launching a frontal attack; caution would have to be used for a bit.
There was plenty of cover and Tex used it skilfully. He left his beast where it was, but took the precaution of tethering it. Then on foot still he moved away from the trail, cut across the neck of the sharp loop, sticking closely to the cover of outcrops and boulders and came within sight of the group on the trail once more. The Kid’s companion, whose garments were more orthodox in that they weren’t all black, was now at work robbing, going through the pockets of the giant, while the Kid himself, provided that Tex was right and it was the Kid, kept both victims covered, still in the saddle.
Tex used all the skill he had. He had chosen that side of the trail which lay behind the two bandits, whose backs were now to him. Evidently they had no suspicion what was afoot.
Eventually Tex came to a rock not more than fifty yards from the trail and from the group. Now he was sitting pretty. All he had to do was wing the bandits, first the Kid himself and then his companion. After that it would be easy. Fortunately the victims of the hold-up were not masking the bandits.
Tex brought up his Colt. He had all the time in the world to pull his fast one, didn’t reckon he could miss at this range. He settled himself carefully, drew a bead on the Kid.
And then without warning there came a dramatic interruption. From behind Tex came the crack of a gun. A bullet flaked a chip from the rock behind which he had taken cover. It missed his head by a matter of inches only.
His reflexes were swift, experience stood him in good stead. Automatically, instinctively, he flung himself flat, twisted over and was under cover again, this time from the new menace which had materialized from behind him. As he twisted another shot was fired, but this time the bullet spurted dust from the ground some yards away.
Tex saw the flash of the enemy gun and fired instantly. What result there was he didn’t know. He heard nothing, saw nothing. Whoever had attacked, almost certainly, he reckoned, another of the Kid’s guys who must have watched the manoeuvres, was well under cover. The second shot had come from behind a line of outcrops some hundred yards in the rear.
From the trail itself there now came the sounds of commotion. Tex heaved himself round, was just in time to see the two bandits wrenching round their horses, the second having mounted. Tex fired twice, but missed, for now the Kid and his companion were moving and the moonlight was deceptive, not bright enough for accurate shooting against moving targets.
As Tex brought up his Colt again a third shot cracked out from behind him and he had to duck back under cover. As he ducked he glimpsed the bandits disappearing round the next bend in the trail.
He cursed himself bitterly. He had been so occupied in getting into position to attack that he hadn’t even considered the possibility that the Kid had left somebody to guard his flanks and rear.
The victims of the hold-up were making for their ponies, but Tex didn’t bother about them just yet. The Kid’s accomplice was still somewhere around and Tex wanted him. There wasn’t a chance of catching up with the Kid, but the guy who must have trailed Tex himself might be grabbed, given luck. Tex went after him.
He slid sideways, reached cover some yards from the first rock and had the satisfaction of hearing another shot fired from the outcrop. The third guy was still sitting up there, then, which was OK by Tex. He pin-pointed the flash of the gun and moved again.
Again there could be no frontal attack; he must get round to the flank and then behind the man laying for him. He went to it grimly.
With infinite caution but as fast as possible he moved, always under cover, to the flank, then made up the slope. He passed the line of the outcrops, came behind them. He glimpsed a movement fifty yards to his right, saw for a brief moment a shadowy figure but didn’t use his gun for the next instant the shadow had gone to earth behind an outcrop.
Tex’s lips drew back in a characteristic gesture. He wasn’t going to slip up this time. He moved on along the outcrops. Loose stones and small rocks lay around but Tex didn’t make a false step. At last he came to a spot from which he could see very plainly the hoodlum who had interfered so decisively in his own plans. He was only ten yards from the crouching figure.
For the second time in less than an hour Tex was startled, and for the same reason. It was no hoodlum taking cover behind the outcrop … it was the girl, Linda Forbes.
The shock caused him to relax his vigilance. His boot moved on a loose stone and Linda swung round. She identified him instantly, was swiftly by his side.
‘Tex, there’s a guy down there, maybe one of the Kid’s outfit … I thought I’d got him but then I saw him move again. I reckon….’
Tex got there, then. She’d mistaken him for a bandit, had laid for him. The Kid hadn’t left anyone to guard his flanks. Tex got there, up to a point, but he still didn’t know how she came to be on the scene at all. The last he had seen of her she had been vamoosing down the trail away from the pass.
‘You were layin’ for me,’ he said, and then was interrupted by a voice behind him.
‘Get your hands up.’
Tex had forgotten the two guys held-up on the trail. Now, as he turned, he saw one of them, the giant, standing there with a gun in his hand. The other materialized from nearby, also with a gun.
‘Reckon they forgot to lift the rods from the ponies,’ grunted the first guy. ‘OK Linda, get away from him. You’re OK now, nothin’ to worry about, I got him covered.’
Tex had put up his Colt when Linda had recognized him, but he wasn’t worrying. A mistake had been made, the second in a short space of time, or more accurately the third counting Tex’s error in thinking one of the Kid’s hoodlums was laying for him. Linda could clear it up without any fuss.
She did so at once.
‘Cut it out, Jeb, this guy is all right…. I met up with him earlier along the trail. We heard the shots, I reckon that was when the Kid first laid for you, and he got movin’ to lend a hand.’ Then, as the man called Jeb hesitated, she spoke again. ‘Put up your gun, I tell you Mister Scarron is OK.’
Jeb grunted but then did as he was told, putting up his gun. His companion followed suit. Watching him Tex decided that not often before had he seen any guy who looked more like a rat. At closer quarters he could see that his skin was a dirty grey, that the eyes were narrow and closely set on either side of his nose, that his lips were thin. For all that he was so much smaller than Jeb, Tex reckoned he was about twice as dangerous.
‘I don’t get any o’ this,’ he said now. ‘We got held-up by the Kid, there ain’t no doubt who the guy was, an’ then….’
‘I’ll give you the facts, Snake,’ interrupted the girl. ‘I met up with Mister Scarron, he’s on his way to the Bar X, Dave Brand is his uncle. We heard the shots and Mister Scarron got movin’. I followed along,’ she added, with a swift, sidelong glance at Tex. ‘I don’t aim usually to be left out of things. I saw you two held-up and then I sighted another guy lyin’ up. I thought he was a hoodlum so I tried to get him. But I made a mistake – it was Mister Scarron.’
Tex tilted back his Stetson. So that was it; Linda had foxed him, he reckoned she’d not intended to clear but had bluffed him. She had followed along and the result was that the Kid and his buddy had got away.
‘Sorry, I slipped up badly,’ said the girl, who didn’t need to be a thought-reader to guess what Tex was thinking.
Jeb Callahan accepted the explanation and nodded at Tex.
‘Mighty good of you to do what you could, stranger,’ he grunted. ‘I guess me an’ Snake are grateful, that right, Snake?’
‘Sure … I guess we’ll get back to the River. The Parson won’t stand for a guy like the Kid rustlin’ in on this territory.’ Jeb ran a huge hand over his unshaven jaw.
‘That’s right … the Kid lifted five hundred dollars off us, that ain’t so good.’
‘You talkin’ about Parson Dean?’ he asked. ‘You know him?’
It was Linda who answered. Sure Jeb and Snake knew the Parson. Jeb was foreman at the Double K, the ranch owned by the Parson, who was also proprietor of the hotel at Grant’s River and of several other concerns, as Tex was to discover later, Snake was one of his employees, too.
‘That’s mighty interestin’,’ drawled Tex. He wanted to know all he could about the Parson, and not merely from Sam Steel. He wanted the set-up from every angle. He wanted to meet up with the Parson, too, and the sooner the better. It was an idea to make the encounter before he talked to Sam. ‘Sure, mighty interestin’,’ he repeated. ‘I’ve heard of the Parson … a pretty big guy in these parts they tell me?’
Jeb’s face tightened just for a moment. He wasn’t too good at concealing his feelings Tex reckoned. But it was the man Snake who answered, swiftly and smoothly.
‘That’s right, mister, a pretty big man.’ And then, ‘Where’d you hear about him?’
Ted shrugged, answering vaguely. He’d heard talk at Indian Creek, in the hotel there, that was all.
‘Guess I’ll come with you to Grant’s River,’ he added. ‘I’d sure like to meet the Parson, he sounds like a good guy and one worth knowin’.’
As he spoke he was conscious of tension. Jeb was staring at him, eyes narrowed; Snake’s face was blank but he couldn’t avoid giving away that he, too, was wondering what lay behind the suggestion – that was the way Tex reckoned it out. Remembering what Sam had said in his letter, knowing now that Jeb and Snake were employed by Parson Dean, he didn’t have much difficulty in working out what these two guys were thinking. Linda had told them that he was on his way to the Bar X, that Dave Brand was his uncle. They were wondering just what was the reason for his visit.
Snake provided some corroborative evidence for this guesswork.
‘’You’re goin’ to the Bar X?’ he asked slowly, and when Tex nodded, ‘Sure … you come along with us, mister. I reckon the Parson will be glad to meet you.’
Corroborative evidence it was, Tex reckoned, this reference to the Bar X. There was something else he was pretty sure about. The tension, which had now passed, almost as quickly as it had arisen, was not confined to Jeb and Snake. Linda had said nothing, but Tex was aware that she was standing there rigid. He reckoned that the talk of Parson Dean interested her, far more than the occasion seemed to warrant.
He remembered her own reference to the Parson, which didn’t link up with what Sam had told him in the letter. It didn’t link up, either, with the employment of two guys whom Tex, out of his long experience, judged to be dangerous and crooked – especially Snake – and though as yet he hadn’t met Parson Dean, what he’d heard about him didn’t lead him to think that the big man of Grant’s River was a sucker either. In turn that meant that the Parson knew that these two guys of his weren’t to be trusted much farther than they could be seen.
Tex didn’t know where he was yet, but already, after so short a time in the River district, he was even more interested in his mission than he had been. There were cross-currents.
There was the Kid, for instance. It seemed certain that the notorious bandit was an extra on the scene. For one thing he had moved into the area only very recently according to reports; for another he had laid for two of the Parson’s men. He couldn’t on the face of it have any connection with the Parson’s set-up, but on the other hand … on the other hand Tex was thinking right now of something which had been nibbling at the back of his mind ever since he had come on Linda Forbes laying for him.
Her story had been plausible enough, on the surface, but there were two points troubling Tex. Remembering the lie of the country he reckoned she must have come via the defile. In that case she must have seen his pony tethered by the side of the trail. Second she had known that he had ridden that way and was aiming to investigate the shooting. The two put together worried him. She had known he was around, but she had assumed without query that a third bandit was lurking amongst the rocks, hadn’t apparently wondered whether it could be Tex himself. Her intervention had resulted in the Kid and his buddy escaping.
What reason could she have for intervening on behalf of a bandit? And anyway if so it didn’t link with her good opinion of the Parson and the obvious fact that these two guys of his knew her well and were friendly with her.
Tex spoke again, ostensibly to Snake, but with an eye on Linda.
‘I guess I don’t like lettin’ a guy like the Kid slip me,’ he drawled. ‘I’ve been up against hoodlums before, and they ain’t got away. I reckon I’m goin’ to get the Kid if he stays around here.’
He saw, or thought he saw, the girl tense again; but the moment was so brief that he couldn’t be sure. When she spoke her voice was normal.
‘I wish you luck … I’ll come down to the River, too, Jeb. Buck is down there at the hotel and I can join up with him.’
‘OK Linda, like you say,’ grunted Jeb. ‘We’ll be movin’.’
Linda had left her pony not far from where Tex had tethered his beast, proof that she must have passed and seen the animal. He noted the fact but said nothing; and neither did she. A little while later the four of them rode down to Grant’s River.