When supper was finished he walked out on the porch and looked down the long valley. A faint rose still showed along the serrated ridges of the mountains beyond, but soft shadows gathered in the valley, and in the stillness of early evening sounds were magnified.
Somewhere out there a quail called, and there was a rush of wings in the darkness; a lone star had appeared, bright as a close-up lantern or a signal fire. The star hung in the Prussian blue of the sky above the mountain ridge, the last remaining light.
This was no country for fighting. It was a country for peace, for homes—but he rightly guessed there would be little peace for him in the time just ahead, and few evenings again when he could look with content upon the empty stillness of the valley.
Was she really in love with Jud Devitt? Certainly, he must seem an attractive man, and he was one with a reputation for success. He was no simple cattleman, but a man from her own world, a man who got things done.
Clay rubbed his cigarette out on the stone sill and was turning away when Bill Coffin stopped and called out, “Boss, did you see that blonde?”
“No—the one I saw was a redhead.”
Chapter 4
In the bank at Tinkersville, Noble Wheeler hitched his heavy, corpulent body around in the swivel chair to face his visitor. That Jud Devitt was upset was obvious.
Devitt dropped into the chair across the desk from Wheeler and put his white hat on the desk. His black hair was parted to perfection and plastered down to his skull. He had a square face and a head like a block of granite. This morning his eyes were hard and impatient. Jud Devitt liked a good fight but there were aspects to this one that did not appeal to him.
Victory had become the usual thing for Devitt, and he had grown to be impatient of those who challenged his decisions or delayed his success. The present move depended much on speed of accomplishment, and he was in no mood to be thwarted. Especially, with Colleen Riley in the gallery.
Clay Bell had not been frightened. He had not only had the nerve to challenge Devitt openly, but had publicly whipped one of his toughest lumberjacks. That Colleen was obviously interested in the man was an added irritation.
“About this man Bell,” Devitt began abruptly. “You hold his paper, and he’s going to be an obstacle to our realizing on that timber. He refused to move his cattle, and if you can’t influence him to move them, we’ll have to do it for him.”
Wheeler shifted his heavy body and spat into the cuspidor. Thoughtfully, he chewed at the corners of his yellowed mustache. “No,” he said finally, “I can’t butt in. I tipped you off to this timber, but there’s no way I can come into the open.
“Pullin’ his cows off that range will break Bell, an’ everybody knows it. You’re here only until you log off the timber; I’m here for good. Anything I do will have to be done under cover.”
“Suppose he wants a renewal on his loan?”
“That I can refuse. I can tell him that with you in the picture he has become a bad risk.”
Devitt nodded. “That will do nicely. He’s going to need money for this fight.”
He started to rise, but Wheeler lifted a staying hand. “You know anything about this here Bell?”
“What should I know?” Devitt was impatient. “He’s in my way, that’s all I need to know.”
“You sit down, Jud. Sit down an’ listen to me. I got a stake in this, too.” Wheeler put his fat hands on his chair arms and leaned forward. “You’re a smart man, Devitt. You get things done, and I like that. You ain’t particular about ways and means, and I like that, too. But don’t make any mistakes about this man Bell. He’s a fighter.”
“Fighter, is he?” Devitt laughed without warmth. “I’ll give him plenty of fight!”
“You listen to me! Bell was fightin’ Comanches when he was fourteen. Then he was in New Orleans a while, doin’ I don’t know what. After that he was a Texas Ranger two years, and then in the cavalry durin’ the War Between the States.
“Got to be a major. After the war he rode with trail herds, hunted buffalo, and prospected the goldfields up to Bannock an’ Alder Gulch. This man knows how to fight and when to fight.”
Jud Devitt was all attention now, watching Wheeler closely and raking in every word. He was conscious of irritation again. Why hadn’t he been told all this before? The man might be dangerous . . . the fact that he had been a major showed something—either ability to command, or friends in the right places. In either case, Bell could be dangerous.
“Those who know this man Bell says he’s a gunfighter. He’s never throwed a gun on anybody hereabouts, but that’s no proof. An’ don’t think he’s alone! That Hank Rooney is an old curly wolf off the dry range. Rush Jackson was a Ranger in the same outfit with Bell, and Montana Brown was a sergeant in Bell’s command durin’ the war.”
“We’ll have the law,” Devitt assured him, “and I’ve the men and the money. This contract for ties to the Mexican Central is juicy enough, and the saving in transportation will more than pay the cost of rooting Bell out of there.”
Jud Devitt walked out into the sunlight. He bit off the end of a cigar and lighted it, squinting against the sun. He felt good; the prospect of a fight always gave him a lift. Bell would be more dangerous than he had believed, and he would have friends, too.
That was the worst of it with western men. A man never knew what he might be facing. Nor what a man’s background might be. The unshaved man seated next to you on a restaurant bench might have pulled stroke with the Oxford crew. Many adventurous young foreigners had come to the West looking for adventure and excitement, and many of them were fighters who asked no favors from any man.
Devitt’s eyes shifted toward the trail that led to the mountains. It would stand up under the weight, all right. Tomorrow he would get his donkey engine and sawmill loaded on the wagons and then he would move right in. The route lay up the old trail through Emigrant Gap, and their move would call Bell’s bluff.
He chewed his cigar thoughtfully, watching the street. If this job went as he hoped, this would be the last of his ventures in this country. He was growing now, he was moving out. There was no need for him to restrict himself. In a country like this, a man who used his head could find many opportunities, but he wanted to go east, move in the circles of big financiers. He had ability, and once there he could become as big as any of them.
Bell? He was another cattleman. Tough, perhaps. Jud Devitt chuckled. Tough? He would show him a few tricks. He would teach him how to be tough. And there was no reason for guns—the man had already talked fight with his fists, and when the time came. . .
He scowled, remembering Noble Wheeler. The banker had evidently gone to some length to find out what he knew about Bell. His fund of information was wide and complete. Why? It was a point to be considered.
Jud Devitt knew himself and had no secrets from himself. He was a man unhindered by scruples, a fighter to whom winning was all that could be considered. Ends and means counted for nothing as long as there was no delay and the cost was kept down.
He had planned his moves with care, studying the maps provided by Wheeler, and other maps, less detailed, of the area. He had underestimated Bell, but it would not pay to take too lightly the old man back there in the bank. Noble Wheeler must have something more in his mind than the profits from the tie contract which he would share. Devitt had allowed him only a small percentage of that profit, and Wheeler had accepted too meekly.
How Wheeler had learned of the Mexican Central tie contract, Devitt did not know. Wheeler had come to Santa Fe and made contact with Devitt, explaining that there was plenty of timber, several hundred miles closer than Devitt had believed.
The banker showed his skillfully drawn maps, indicated sources of water, and the old route through Emigrant Gap. Devitt sent Tripp and Williams to cruise the timber without making their presence known. Slipping through The Notch when snow was still on the ground and no cattle had been driven to the high country, they made their survey and got out unseen. Their report was more than satisfactory. The proximity of the timber to the border would almost double the profit to be made on the deal.