The rider hesitated. “You’ll trust me to get his gun?” He was incredulous.
“You’re tough,” Kilkenny said, “but you aren’t a damned fool!” Kilkenny retrieved the fallen man’s horse, then his own. The man with the Mexican hat was holding his head in both hands. “We’ll start for camp. Listen, sorehead, you can make up your mind whether you want trouble or ride away under your own power.”
“Trouble?” The fellow looked up through eyes squinted with pain. “I got trouble!”
“Mount up, then, and start for Horsehead.”
It was evening when they reached the valley. The long sweep of country lay before them, dotted now with streamers of mist. Far away the mountains were a deep purple with evening except their higher ridges which caught a hint of fire from the setting sun.
“Lord!” Tetlow breathed. “What a country!”
The herd flowed past them, and the heads of the cattle came up, nostrils distended. After two days of driving they scented the flowers, the grass and the pines. They began to trot and then of their own volition, as if knowing they were home, they began to spread out and sink their muzzles in the grass. And then, faintly, the wind stirred.
The cattle felt it, and the men. As if on signal they began to listen. And the wind seemed to whisper faint words, not quite discernible, and the cows moved on, ears wide, stopping from time to time for a mouthful of grass. “This is where I stop, Tetlow,” Kilkenny said. “This is home.” Together the riders bunched and rode down the valley toward the cabin, and there was silence among them.
At daylight the riders from the Forty rode away down the valley, and only Cain Brockman and Shorty remained with Kilkenny. There had been no sign of Havalik, nor of his men.
Two days later, riding among the cattle near the foot of the range, Nita drew rein beside Lance. “What now, Lance?” she asked. “Us?” “Not yet. First there’s Dee Havalik.”
“I see no reason to wait, Lance. I’m not afraid.”
“You never were.”
They walked their horses back to the ranch. Shorty was sitting on the top step whittling and he looked up as they drew near, then jerked his head at a stranger who stood near a saddled horse. “Tetlow wants to see you. He sent this gent.” Kilkenny studied the man, who was a stranger. “Heard anything from Havalik?” “Not much,” the rider admitted. “Most of the men left him. He’s mighty mean. I rode with him myself, but he ain’t fit to be around. Only one can get along with him is Andy Tetlow.”
“How many men has he got?”
“Maybe six. He killed West. The others just drifted off when the chance offered.”
“What’s Tetlow want?”
“Never said. That jail’s mighty hard on him.”
Kilkenny tied the buckskin in front of the livery stable and left instructions for his care. Brockman did likewise, and then the two men crossed the bridge to east town.
Leal Macy got up with a quick smile as they entered. “Glad to see you, boys!
Tetlow’s been asking for you, Lance.”
“How’s everything?”
“Couldn’t be better! Haven’t had a fight in town in two weeks and business couldn’t be better.”
He opened the door to the cells and Kilkenny walked along until he came to that occupied by Tetlow. There had been no attempt at rescue by either Andy or Havalik, yet the old man was ramrod stiff. Ben had sent him tobacco despite his rebuffs. Now Tetlow came to the bars. “Didn’t figure you’d come.” There was no warmth in his voice.
Tetlow stood silent at the bars, and searching his face. Kilkenny could see no change in the man. If anything he had grown harder, colder. Yet there was a change. There was something cruel in his eyes, something cruel and somehow triumphant.
“I bought some of your cows from Ben. A nice lot.”
“He’d no right to sell. Not to you, leastways.”
“He stood his ground, played a man’s part.”
Kilkenny was puzzled. Jared Tetlow made no move to introduce whatever it was he wanted to discuss. He waited, giving the old man time. “You’d better take care of that man Brockman,” Tetlow said. “Andy figures to kill him along with you.”
“He’d better leave Cain alone. Jared, you don’t know about Cain. Neither does Andy. The man’s hell on wheels.” “ He hesitated a moment longer. “What did you want to see me about?” Jared Tetlow stared at him. Then he turned away. “Changed my mind,” he said abruptly.
Kilkenny felt a little alarm bell ring in his brain. Carefully he turned his head and looked down the hall. At the end there was a small window, but there was no one in sight. And there was no one else around. He drew back from the bars, studying Tetlow.
His black coat was shabby and worn. There was a stubble of beard on his jaws. He looked mean … like a cornered, half-starved wolf. “Then I’ll go,” Kilkenny said.
He had walked three paces and had a hand on the knob when Jared Tetlow spoke.
“Maybe I just wanted to see how a man looks before he dies.” Kilkenny hesitated, his mind working swiftly. Then he stepped out and drew the door to behind him.
Macy looked up, but after a quick glance around the office Kilkenny walked past to the door. He stood there, looking up and down the street. “What did he want?”
Without replying to the question, Kilkenny stepped out and then stopped abruptly. A man stood in the center of the bridge staring across the street from Kilkenny.
The man on the bridge was Andy Tetlow and he was staring at Cain Brockman.
Brockman stood in the shadow under the awning, bulking, ominous.
And Tetlow took a step forward, then spoke, his voice ringing with arrogance.
“All right, Brockman!”
Cain Brockman stepped from under the awning. Two hundred and forty pounds of him, his big head lowered and thrust slightly forward, his thick hands swinging near his gun butts. He stepped into the street but he said nothing. Kilkenny, who understood such things, saw that Tetlow was surprised. Obviously, Havalik, who knew about Cain, had told Andy Tetlow nothing about the big man. It was apparent from Andy’s attitude that he expected an easy kill, but there was no fear in the big man. He came out like a lion stalking game, easy on his feet, utterly dangerous.
“I’m going to kill you, Brockman!” Andy Tetlow shouted, staring up the street at the big silent man. The realization that all was not as expected was revealed in that shouted statement when no statement was necessary. Cain Brockman moved forward on cat feet and for the first time Andy Tetlow got the full weight of the menace that faced him. He saw for the first time that far from being frightened the big man accepted the fight with eagerness. Instantly, Andy Tetlow took a step back and his hands dropped for his guns. They dropped and they came up but even as his finger tightened on the trigger Brockman’s gun flowered with flame and a bullet struck Andy in the shoulder, knocking him back a step and deflecting his aim. A second bullet smashed him in the chest and two drove through his stomach. He fired again, his bullet smashing into the bridge rail, and then Andy fell against the rail, fought for balance and finally got his feet under him. Dying, he turned blindly to face Cain Brockman, but the big man knew no mercy.
Guns hammering, he walked in. A bullet smashed Tetlow’s knee, another ripped into his stomach and Tetlow fell back against the bridge railing, which gave way, and he fell heavily to the creek bed, twenty feet below. As suddenly as the shooting had begun it was over. Leal Macy came running to stand beside Kilkenny and Brockman, looking down at the bullet-riddled body. Blood stained the small creek and the water washed around the body, turning dark the dead man’s clothing.
“This country,” a bystander said, “is mighty hard on Tetlows. They’d better find a different climate.”
“Watch yourself.” Brockman looked around. “He wouldn’t have been alone.” Kilkenny had been thinking the same thing. It was all very plain now. Jared Tetlow had sent for him to set him up in the right alley for the guns of Havalik. Dee and Andy had divided the work between them, only Dee had not let Andy know what he was facing. It was just like the man. “We’ll need a couple of pack horses,” Kilkenny said. “I want to take more supplies home. I’ll get Buck.”
Lance turned on his heel and walked across the bridge toward the center of town.
Doc Blaine, drawn to his door by the shooting, stood talking to Laurie Webster. About Dolan’s there was an air of bustle and business. Men loitered on the steps at Savory’s, and Kilkenny gave them a quick glance before he entered the big livery stable.