Captain Andrew Rinehart stopped his gray horse in the thick dust left by the running cattle. Somewhere above him he could hear gunshots, and he knew his cowboys had run down the two thieves who had tried to break out over the hill. The third thief lay here on the ground, facedown, his fingers frozen with the last convulsive movement that had made them dig into the dry earth. A greasy black hat lay on the grass, and drying blood was edged out from under the blue wool coat.
A cowboy stood over him, gun in his hand. The cowboy’s face was white, his hands a-tremble.
“Take it easy, Shorty,” the captain said calmly. “It’s always hard, the first time.”
Shorty Willis tried twice and the third time managed to get his gun back into the holster. He licked his dry lips and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead onto his sleeve. “It happened so fast,” he said. “All of a sudden there he was shootin’ at me, and I shot back. Just once.”
“Don’t let it start eating at you, Shorty, or you’ll carry it with you a long time,” the captain said. “Just remember this, he was a cow thief and he was trying to kill you. You did right.”
The captain motioned with his chin. “Looks like he’s got a real good gun, Shorty. It’s yours by rights, if you want it.”
Shorty drew back, shaking his head. He mounted his horse and turned away from the body which lay there in the dry grass.
The rest of the cowboys came riding over the hill. The captain nodded in satisfaction as he saw that they had the other two thieves with them, hands tied to the swells of their saddles. They were foolish, he thought, to have kept trying to get away with the cattle after being discovered. Too greedy to let go, apparently.
“Good work, Archer,” the captain said to Archer Spann.
Spann explained, “They ran off down there a ways and decided to give up. That one yonder”—he indicated the dead man—“was the only tough one.”
He looked speculatively at the pair. “There’s a creek over that hill. And some cottonwood trees.”
The captain said, “No, I think this time we’ll take them in, Archer.”
“You wouldn’t have in the old days.”
“The old days are gone,” the captain replied. Then he was suddenly uncomfortable, for he realized that this was the same thing McKelvie had said to him, and Monahan.
“How about Vern Wheeler?” Spann demanded.
The captain frowned. He turned to one of the cowboys. “Mixon, are you sure it was the Wheeler kid?”
Mixon nodded confidently. “I was as close as from here to that bush yonder. It was him all right. And I winged him. I saw him fall. That redheaded Preech kid was along, too. There was five of them, and we only got three here.”
The captain said, more to himself than to anyone, “I wonder where they could’ve gone.”
“We all know where they went,” Spann declared. “They hightailed it back to the Wheeler place. Don’t you see it, Captain? All the time you’ve been thinking Noah Wheeler was your friend, he’s been stealing from us. Why do you think he sent the kid over to work on the R Cross? It wasn’t any case of a hungry nester butchering one stray steer. They were moving them out wholesale. No telling how many they got while that kid was at the north line camp.”
The captain said, “Archer, Noah Wheeler wouldn’t steal from me,” but his voice was beginning to lack conviction.
Spann argued, “You’re remembering how he used to be in the war, Captain. But that’s been a long time ago, and men change. He’s used your friendship and dealt you a bad hand all along. I’ve tried to tell you, and now you can see it for yourself.”
The captain’s head was bowed. He was tugging at his gray beard, and a tinge of red showed along his cheekbone. Spann could tell that he was wavering.
“Now,” Spann said, “maybe you’ll let us do what I’ve been trying to get you to do all along. We can put a stop to Noah Wheeler and that fence once and for all, if you’ll just give me the go-ahead.”
Rinehart still hesitated.
Spann said, “Captain, it’s your choice, but you’ve got to make it now. It’s either you or Wheeler. Which one is it going to be?”
Captain Rinehart closed his eyes a moment. Then he stiffened. He raised his chin, and he was the same iron-hard old soldier he had always been. He had made his decision.
“We’ll do it your way, Archer.”
* * *
SARAH RINEHART WAS horrified. She stood stiffly in the doorway, watching the captain strap his old cartridge belt around his waist and fill it with shiny brass cartridges that winked with the light.
“Andrew, you’re making a terrible mistake!”
He never looked up at her. “The mistake I made was in waiting.”
She folded her thin arms. A strength showed in her determined face that hadn’t been there in a long time. “If it hadn’t been for Noah Wheeler, you wouldn’t be here today. He’s been your friend. Are you forgetting that?”
“He’s forgotten it, I haven’t.”
“Perhaps Mixon was right about the Wheeler boy. It doesn’t prove that his father had anything to do with it.”
“Everything adds up, Sarah.” Impatience grew in his voice.
“Archer Spann has told you it does. To me, it doesn’t. I don’t believe it. I won’t ever believe it unless I hear it from Noah Wheeler himself.”
“You can stop arguing with me, Sarah. My mind’s made up.”
There was ice in her voice. “Then so is mine, Andrew. You’re making a mistake today that’s going to wreck you. If I can’t stop you, then I don’t want to be here to see it.”
Rinehart stopped and stared incredulously at her. “What do you mean?”
“This isn’t the place it used to be, Andrew. Once it was a happy place, and I loved it. But it’s changed. You’ve changed. And do you know when it started? When Archer Spann came. You think you run this ranch, Andrew, but you don’t, not anymore. Spann does. He makes you think they’re all your ideas, but he plants them and sees that they grow.
“He’s ruining you, Andrew. In fighting Wheeler and those small men with their fence, you’re riding a dead horse. If you raid Noah Wheeler, the whole world will fall in around you because you’re wrong—dead wrong!
“I’ve thought a lot lately about leaving. I’ve thought I might go to Fort Worth, where I wouldn’t have to hear about Archer Spann, and wouldn’t have to watch you wreck the R Cross because of him.”
The captain’s voice was dull with shock. “Sarah, the trip would be too much for you. You might never make it.”
Firmly she said, “I can try. If you leave here today, I’ll get Charley Globe to drive me to town. When I’ve rested up, I’ll take the stage to Stringtown and catch the train. It’s up to you, Andrew.”
For a long time he stood there staring at her, not knowing whether to believe her or not. He could hear the thud of hoofs outside as the men gathered from the line camps. Spann had even sent for Fuller Quinn’s men.
The captain motioned toward the window. “You see all that, Sarah? It’s too late now for me to stop it, even if I wanted to. And I don’t want to. We’re going through with it.”
Sarah Rinehart’s lips tightened. For a moment her eyes misted, then she drew herself up and blinked them clear. “Very well, Andrew.”
She stood stiffly, listening to him stamp out of the house. When he was gone, the stiffness went out of her. She sat wearily in her favorite rocking chair and listened to the sound of horses and men in the big yard below.
As the horsemen left, she called to the Mexican woman who cared for her. “Josefa,” she said, “go see if Charley Globe went with them. If he didn’t, tell him I want to see him.”
* * *
NOT FAR FROM the Wheeler place, Spann raised his hand and drew up. He turned and looked back over his men. Sixteen of them. It wasn’t as many as he had figured on. He’d been sure of Fuller Quinn, and Quinn had let him down.
Scowling darkly, Quinn had said, “The first time you suckered me in, I spent all the next day with a shovel in my hands. The second time, they throwed my tail in the hoosegow. This time you can go to hell.”
Nor was Quinn his only disappointment. Something was chewing on the captain. Spann had been able to see that ever since they had left the headquarters ranch. Something between the captain and his wife, Spann knew. The captain had been visibly shaken as he had walked out of the house.
Spann wondered why a strong man like the captain ever let a woman influence him as Sarah Rinehart did. That was the trouble with women, as Spann saw it. They were always interfering in man’s business, trying to run things that were better left up to a man.
“Bodie,” Spann said, “I want you to take four men and hit that fence. Don’t get close enough to get hurt. Hunt out some cover and snipe at them. Draw them all away from the house and the barns. When it’s clear there, the rest of us will charge down from the other end and set everything afire.”
“What about the fence?” Bodie asked. “We’ll never be able to touch it if we draw that bunch down on us.”
“You won’t have to. If we can stop Noah Wheeler—burn him out—we’ll automatically stop the fence.”
Bodie nodded, satisfied. Spann pulled a watch out of his pocket. “You got a watch?” he asked. When Bodie said yes, Spann told him, “Give us an hour to make a wide circle. Then go on in.” He told off the four men who were to go with Bodie. “Don’t get close enough to get hurt,” he warned them again. “If you have to retreat some, fine. Main thing is to draw them away from the headquarters till we’ve had time to do our job.”
He pulled away then, and his men started their circle.
They reached their point in a little less than an hour and drew up there to wait. Most of the men smoked quietly. They were nervous, and he could tell that some of them didn’t like it.
Shorty Willis was the main one. “We’re makin’ a mistake, Spann. Them’s good people down there.”
“If you don’t want to go with us, Shorty, then ride out. But you’re through in this country. You’ll never get another job anywhere around here.”
Shorty ignored Spann. He pulled his horse up beside the captain, who had been riding along silently on his big gray, his gaunt old face creased with worries of his own. “Captain, you know this is wrong. Even if Vern was helpin’ steal them cattle, he mebbe thought he had a good reason.”
The captain peered intently at Shorty. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve heard the story about that three hundred dollars, ain’t you? Spann says it’s a lie, but Vern told me about it that day Monahan had us fixin’ the fence. He talked like a man tellin’ the truth.”
Spann felt a momentary surge of panic. The captain was listening to Shorty. Damn that boy and his three hundred dollars! They’d brought Spann nothing but trouble.
“Shorty,” Spann blurted, “there’s no truth in it! You’re fired!”
The captain raised his hand. “I’ll do the firing. Just what was it the Wheeler boy said?”
Shorty started telling it, and Spann felt his mouth go dry. He could see that the captain was wavering. The old man didn’t want to go through with this thing, that was apparent. Now he was looking desperately for some reason to call it off.
The shooting started. The crisp crackle of guns rolled in from the distance. Spann shouted, “Everybody in the saddle!”
The tension went out of him with a long sigh. Shorty Willis wouldn’t get a chance to finish that story now. With luck, maybe he never would.
Spann put his horse up over the top of the hill, so he could see the farmhouse and the barn and the yard, the fields and the grazing cattle. The gunfire was coming clearer and sharper now. More guns had entered into it. His riders gathering around him, Spann watched two men spur away from the barn down below and lope out along the fenceline. He watched and saw no more activity at the house.
The captain said, “Archer, just a minute…”
He was going to call it off, Spann realized. “Let’s go!” he shouted, and spurred down the hill.
* * *
TRUDY WHEELER STOOD on the front porch, squinting her blue eyes and wishing she could see what was going on down there where the shooting was. Her father and one of the Blessingame boys had been at the barn repairing a wagon when the shooting started. Although still stiff and sore from the beating, Noah Wheeler had thrown a saddle on a horse and loped down to make a hand. That left no one here but Trudy and her mother.
Some new noise made her spin around. She saw the horsemen loping down the long slope toward the house. Instantly she comprehended the R Cross strategy.
“Mother,” she cried, “they’re raiding us!”
Mrs. Wheeler ran to the front door and looked out. For one short moment she stood with hands pressed against her paling cheeks. Then she shouted, “The shotgun. We’ve still got the shotgun in the house.” She whirled and ran back for it. She brought it out, and with it a handful of shells.
Trudy took the gun from her hands. “Here. I always was the best shot.”
Chickens flew away squawking, and ducks waddled hurriedly across the tankdam and out into the water as the riders reached the haystacks. They milled around, some of the men getting down. In a moment thin smoke began to curl. Red flames burst out of the stacks, and smoke suddenly swelled thick and gray.
Her heart drumming with excitement, her face heating with anger, Trudy had to fight against the temptation to run out and try to stop them. She knew it would be useless. She could not save the haystacks. She could not save the barn, if they decided to set it afire. All she could do was stay here and try to keep them away from the house.
Sure enough, the next move was the barn. Trudy spotted Archer Spann, and she leveled the shotgun at him. The heavy recoil jarred her shoulder. The range was too great for strong effect, but through the angry wreath of powder smoke she saw Spann’s horse kick up. The well-spent pellets had stung him.
Spann rode his horse right through the open barn door, and a couple of men followed him. Hay was stacked inside the barn too. In a moment smoke was rolling out the door and squeezing between the red planks in the siding. From the barn, Spann pulled over to the nearby chicken house. Not even that was he going to spare.
A couple of Monahan’s horses ran crazily about in a pen next to the barn, panicked by the fire and the choking smoke. One of the R Cross cowboys mercifully opened the gate and let them out. Spann raised his six-shooter and leveled it as they came by. He fired twice, and both horses went down, threshing.
Trudy felt rage swell helplessly within her, forcing hot tears to her eyes. She saw the R Cross cowboy who had opened the gate staring in disbelief. Then the cowboy shouted something at Spann and shook his fist. Spann paid him no heed. The R Cross foreman turned back to other pens where some of Noah Wheeler’s good Durham cattle had been eating hay. He stopped at the fence and fired over it.
Trudy cried, “Oh, no, he’s killing the cattle!”
Horror-stricken, she realized that she had seen her father’s favorite, old Roany, walk into that pen with her half-Longhorn calf not twenty minutes ago.
Most of the R Cross cowboys had stopped and were watching Spann in shocked fascination. Turned loose to destroy at will, he was suddenly a man burning in fury, loosing all the pent-up hatred he had nursed for a world which had once treated him harshly, releasing that pressure of bitterness in an unreasoning spasm of destruction.
Old Roany made a break through the gate, her long-legged calf well in the lead. Spann was delayed a moment, reloading. Then he jerked his horse around and came spurring.
Trudy gripped the shotgun and jumped off the porch. She ran to meet Spann, screaming at him as she ran. He was paying little heed. She saw him level the six-shooter at the cow, and she pulled off a quick shot at him. She realized instantly that she had missed.
The thunder of the big gun brought Spann up short. Black with fury, he reined his horse at Trudy. She stood in the middle of the yard, struggling to get another shell into the shotgun. He leveled the pistol at her, but some remnant of reason made him lift it again. He spurred harder. In her haste Trudy got the shell jammed halfway in the chamber. She looked up, her eyes widening in alarm as she saw that Spann was going to run her down.
She tried to step aside, and the horse tried to miss her. But Spann held the animal with an iron hand and spurred him savagely. The horse’s shoulder struck Trudy a blow that sent her spinning. Then the panicked horse was over her, trying desperately to miss her with his hoofs. But one foot struck Trudy in the small of the back. The breath gusted out of her. A blinding pain knifed through her. Another hoof struck her before Spann’s horse got away.
She lay helpless, fighting for breath. A sickening darkness reached for her, trying to pull her down. She was conscious of Archer Spann stepping off beside her. She groped for the shotgun, got it in her hands.
Spann slapped her and grabbed the shotgun, smashing it on the ground. She tried to push to her knees, and he slapped her once more.
“Touch her again and I’ll kill you, Spann!”
Spann jerked his head up in surprise. Shorty Willis stood in front of him, a gun in his hand and death in his eyes. Spann took a step forward, then stopped abruptly. He saw that Shorty meant it.
Cursing him, Spann whirled and remounted his horse. He took a few seconds to look around him. The haystacks were alive with fire. Smoke billowed from the blazing barn, flames licking up through the shingled roof. He swung his hand in an arc and shouted at the other R Cross men.
“Come on. There’s more to be done!”
To his astonishment they all stared at him as if he were some wild animal. He shouted again, and they made no move. He looked around sharply and saw Shorty Willis kneeling beside the Wheeler girl.
Realization struck like a mule kicking him in the belly. They had rebelled. It had not been without warning. He could remember the hesitancy, the reluctance many of the men had shown. He could remember how some like Shorty Willis had tried to argue with him.
He cursed them, and they sat on their horses and stared at him. He jerked around and spurred toward the Wheeler house. From down the fenceline he could see dust rising. Monahan was coming with his crew. This had to be finished in a hurry.
Mrs. Wheeler was running across the yard toward her daughter. Spann jumped off his horse and ran into the house. Just inside the kitchen he spotted a kerosene lamp. He smashed it against the wall, splashing kerosene over the wallpaper and spilling it down onto the floor. He hurried into the next room, found another lamp and hurled it down. He struck a match, dropping it. As the flames crackled and spread, he retreated into the kitchen and tossed another match.
Outside the house again, Spann saw the dust moving closer. They would never make it in time now, he thought with a thrill of triumph. Try what they would, there would be nothing left here but ashes. Smoke drifted all around the place, panicking the horses, choking the men. Spann swung onto his head fighting mount. He saw the roan Durham cow and her leggy calf, the ones he had tried to shoot when that crazy woman opened up on him with the shotgun. He loped after them, fired once and saw the cow go down. The calf was running like a jackrabbit. Spann started to follow, then decided to let it go.
He looked back. To his amazement, many of the R Cross men remained in the Wheeler yard. Some of them were running afoot toward the house.
He blinked hard, not believing what he saw. They were going to put the fire out.
He sat there numbly watching, realizing that the rebellion had been complete. Victory had been in his grasp, and suddenly his own men were snatching it out of his hands.
Soberness slowly came to him then. His heart still hammered from excitement. His mouth was so dry his tongue stuck to the roof of it. He watched most of the R Cross men start drifting back toward the hill where the captain had waited and watched the whole thing.
Spann turned and moved that way too. As he approached the men, he felt them watching. He looked, and he saw no loyalty in their eyes—only fear or contempt and, in some of them, hatred.
He glanced at the captain. For a fleeting moment he saw bitter disillusionment and heartbreak in that gaunt old face. Then the captain turned away from him, his shoulders slumped. The captain touched spurs gently to his big horse and moved down the other side of the hill.
In that moment, Archer Spann knew he was done.
* * *
TRUDY WAS NOT the only one needing a doctor. One of the fencing crew had been wounded in the skirmish with Bodie’s decoy force. One of Bodie’s men had taken a bullet in the leg and had been left there by the others. So Stub Bailey headed for town.
When the smoke had been cleared from the house, Monahan gently picked up Trudy and carried her in. He winced at the sharp odor of charred wood. He placed her on her bed and stood beside her, holding her hand, not knowing what else to do.
Shorty Willis of the R Cross had stayed with the girl. “I think she’s got some broken ribs,” he said quietly. “Spann ran his horse over her.”
Mrs. Wheeler pointed to the door. “You men get on out of here. This is a woman’s job.”
Doug moved out of the room, Willis with him. He stood with hands shoved deep into his pockets. He stared blankly at the blackened wall. R Cross men had beaten out the flames before they could spread far or eat deeply. New wallpaper would hide the black. As to the floor, fresh paint and some kind of rug would cover the damage.
Noah Wheeler found old Roany lying on her side, kicking in agony, a bullet in her stomach.
He reached out to Dundee, and Dundee silently handed him a pistol. Wheeler raised it, held it a moment, then let it down, shaking his head. “Here, Dundee. You do it.” He handed the pistol back.
Dundee waited until Wheeler had walked away. Noah Wheeler flinched at the shot.
In the house, Doug clenched his fists and blinked at the burning in his eyes. To Noah Wheeler he said, “I should’ve known it would come to this. I ought never to’ve started that fence.”
Noah Wheeler rubbed his hand across his smoke-blackened face. “I told you before, Doug, it’s not your fault. I wanted the fence. It’s my fault this happened.” His face was grave. “But it’s not going to whip us. We’ll build it back better than it ever was.”
Shorty Willis said, “It’s Spann’s fault. It would’ve happened sooner or later, fence or no fence. Spann kept pushin’ the captain. I think he believed the captain would leave the R Cross to him someday. He always did want to drive you farmers out, and he had his eye on some of the little cow outfits, too. The fence was just a startin’ place. Gave him an excuse he hadn’t had before. Then, when your son got caught with them R Cross cattle…”
Noah Wheeler’s head jerked. “Vern? What cattle?”
Willis frowned. “You didn’t know?” He stared at Noah Wheeler, satisfying himself that the old man really didn’t know. Then he told it.
Noah was pale and shaken. “How bad was he wounded?”
Willis shook his head. “I wasn’t there. All I know is, they said it knocked him outa the saddle.”
Noah Wheeler stood up shakily and walked out of the house, head down. Willis looked after him worriedly. “Monahan, is there anything we can do for him?”
Doug said grimly, “Not unless you know where we can find that boy.”
The doctor came just before dark. He stayed a long time in the room with Trudy. When he came out he said, “She’ll be all right, but it’ll take a while. She’s got some cracked ribs and some very bad bruises. I don’t think she’ll stir out of that bed for a good many days.”
Shorty Willis sighed in relief. “She’s a brave little woman.”
Doug Monahan walked into her room. Mrs. Wheeler smiled at him and left, closing the door behind her. Doug stood by Trudy’s bed. Trudy raised her hand, and Doug took it.
“Doctor says you’ll be all right, Trudy.”
Pale, she nodded. Doug said, “I’ve been waiting outside there the whole time. I couldn’t make myself leave the house.”
Trudy smiled weakly. “I knew you were there, Doug, and I liked it. I want you to keep on staying there. I want to know that you’re somewhere close around.”
“I’ll be around, Trudy, I promise you that. Only one thing. I’ll be gone awhile tomorrow. But I’ll get back as soon as I can.”
He saw the worry cloud up in her eyes. “The R Cross?”
He nodded, and she said, “I wish you wouldn’t. It was foolish, me running out after Spann that way. I don’t want you to do something just as foolish because of me.”
Doug didn’t want to argue with her. He said simply, “I’ll get back soon as I can.” Impulsively he leaned over and kissed her. He started to straighten, but she reached up and caught him and pulled him down to her again. He felt the wetness of her tears against her cheek.
“Go then, if you have to,” she whispered. “Only be careful, and come back to me.”