Many of them were good men who just got started off down the wrong track, but others were murderers and thieves, and the wild animals were about comto turn on their keeper.
Tomorrow . . . tomorrow he would see what could be done.
Tomorrow. . . .
The Red Wall Ranch, also called the V-Bar, lay at the head of a small canyon, an isolated oasis at tire upper end of a network of small canyons watered by scattered springs and runoff from the cliffs. It was such a place as only an Indian, an outlaw on the run, or a wandering prospector might find. During a wet year the range would support cattle, but in a dry year much of it was semidesert, offering little. Ben Curry had found the place a dozen years before and had with the help of some Indian friends put up a stone house, stable, and corrals. He had piped water into the house from a spring, had kept some cedars growing close by, and had planted a few other trees, carefully watered until their roots were down.
By handling cattle judiciously, taking advantage of the wet years and cutting the numbers during dry periods, a man might do well with a small ranching operation. Ben Curry did not intend to live out his life there, simply to maintain it as a secret base of operations.
Doc Sawyer knew of the place, but only Roundy had actually been there. The ranch house was a low building almost lost to view against the cliffs some distance behind, and partly screened by trees.
A man might easily ride by the lower end of the canyon without even seeing the house, which was on a low knoll. Behind it and between the house and the canyon wall were the corrals, a stable, a storage shed, and a smokehouse. “It’s so alone!” Juliana said, looking down the long narrow valley. “I love it here, but it scares me, tool” Drusilla said nothing, but she, too, was looking down the long valley. It was beautiful, it was remote, it was wild and strange. Maybe that was why she loved it so much, and maybe that was why she so looked forward to coming back, even though the visit would be a short one. “I often wonder why papa chose such an out-of-theway place,” Juliana went on.
“He could have a ranch anywhere. I don’t believe anyone lives within a hundred miles of us.” “We aren’t that far from Flagstaff. It just seems far.” “But what if something went wrong” “We’d have to fend for ourselves,” Dru said. “That’s why you should learn to shoot. Someday you may have to.” “There was trouble in town after we left,” Juliana said. “I heard the men talking about it. Some sort of a fight.” “I wish papa would come.” It was very quiet. From the steps before the bunkhouse where the men slept they heard the low murmur of voices. It was a comfortable sound. Night was falling and already they had a light on out there. “It gives me the shivers.” “There’s nothing to be afraid of. There are four men out there.” They were silent, and Juliana drew the shades. Walking back to the table Dru took the chimney from the lamp, struck a match, and touched it to the wick.
Replacing the lamp globe she drew back a chair. “It’s almost time for supper.” “I don’t like it, Dru. I don’t feel right.
Something’s going to happen.” Dru looked at her sister, a cool, appraising glance. Juliana had these feelings once in a while, and they were often right.
It was foolish to be afraid. Still- By day anyone approaching could be seen for some distance, but at night?
“I’ll speak to the men,” she said, “after supper.” Juliana left the room and Dru walked slowly back to the window. Standing at one side she could still see far down the valley, but in a few minutes it would be too dark.
Now she was feeling it, too. Suddenly she turned and went to leer room. From her duffel she took a derringer her father had given her, and checked it.
Loaded, and both barrels. She slipped it into her skirt pocket. It was lonelyl Where was pa?
He had warned them not to expect him at any particular time but that he would come. They could depend on that. Of late Drusilla had been doing some wondering of her own. Several times her father had met them at the ranch, but it was not until the last time that she had noticed anything strange. The first thing was his horse. Pa said he had come far, but his horse did not look it or act it. Thinking back she remembered that his horses had never seemed hard ridden, yet if pa came from somewhere near, where could it be?
There was nothing near. There was only wilderness.
She looked down the valley again. Now all was darkness, with only a few stars hanging in the sky.
Supper was a quiet meal. None of them felt like talking very much, but then her mother had never been much of a talker. “How did you meet Papa?” Dru asked suddenly.
“Papa? Oh-?” Her mother hesitated, then laughed.
“It was at a party, back in Texas. Some riders stopped by, and of course, everybody was welcome in those days, so we invited them to join us.
“We danced, talked a little, and finally ate supper together. Two of the men who came with him stayed with their horses, although once in a while one of the others would change places so they could come in and enjoy the party, too.
“He was so bigl And so very good lookingl He wasn’t from anywhere around there, and when I asked him he said he was from Colorado but he had been back farther east to buy cattle.
“They left before daylight but he was back a week later, but that time he was alone. He stayed several days and we went driving and riding, and something about him kind of scared the others away. There were several young men who-was “Courted you?” “You could call it that. But after he came they were all frightened away.” “He frightened them? What did he do?” “Oh, nothing, really. There was just something about him.
He was very romantic, you know. So mysteriousl He would come, stay around a while, then be gone.” “He is still mysterious,” Dru said quietly.
Her mother glanced up quickly, defensively. “Not really. His work just keeps him away. I have always understood that.” When supper was over, Dru went out back. The door of the bunkhouse was open, and Voyle Ragan was coming toward her.
“Uncle Voyle? When will papa be here?” “I don’t know, honey. He can’t always get here when he wants. What’s the trouble?” “Juliana is scared. I don’t know why, but she is. She says something’s wrong, and when she feels that way she is usually right.” He was a tall, lean man. He managed the ranch, talked little, but was a kindly, thoughtful man.
“Nothing to worry about,” he said. “Not many folks even know about this place. We don’t see many strangers. his She was silent. If she were to ask, would he tell her? “Uncle Voyle-?” She hesitated.
“What does papa really do?” She watched him turn his head and glance down the canyon, then he said quietly, “Why, you know as well as I do. He buys cattle, drives ‘em sometimes, sells ‘em to the best buyer. He does right well, but it keeps him on the road.” He spoke hastily, before she could interrupt.
“He never talks business at home. It just ain’t his way. Buyin” like he. does he goes out to ranches, deals with some pretty rough men, time to time. Sometimes he buys an’ sells cows without ever movin’ “em. Knows the buyer before he buys.
He’s a shrewd man.” “I believe he is. I believe you are, too, Uncle Voyle, and that story will satisfy mama and Juliana but not me. I want to know where papa is, and I want to know why he always comes from over toward the canyon.” “Where’d you get that idea?” “I’ve seen him. Once when I was riding I saw him coming up through the draw. And when he gets here after those long rides his horses are always so fresh.” Voyle Ragan was disturbed. For years he had been afraid of this. Juliana would accept things as they seemed to be, but not Drusilla. She was like her father, and missed nothing.
“Have you talked to anybody else about this?” “Who would I talk to? I’ve seen no one.” “Well, don’t. Not even the men here. Your papa knows what he’s about, but you leave it lay. The less you know the better, and the fewer questions you ask the fewer other folks are apt to ask.” “So that’s it.” Her voice fell. “He’s an outlaw, isn’t he?” “Well-was “I’ve suspected it for a long tine, but somehow he never seemed the type.” “No, Dru, he surely doesn’t. That’s just it, he never did. Your ma, well, I think she knows but she’d not mention it, and she’d not admit it, even to herself.