Ben Curry had not made up his mind about Kerb Perrin. He knew the outlaw was growing restive, aware that Curry was aging and eager for the power that went with leadership. What would he do, and how would he react when Mike Bastian took over?
Well, Curry reflected grimly, that would be Mike’s problem. He had been trained for it.
Old Ben himself was the bull of the herd, and Perrin was pawing dust, but what would he do when a strange young bull came in to take over? One who had not won his spurs on the outlaw trail?
That was why Ben had sent for Mike. It was time for Mike to go out on his first job. It would be big, sudden, and dramatic. It was also relatively foolproof. If brought off smoothly it would have an excellent effect on the gang.
There was a sharp knock on the door, and Ben Curry sat back in his chair, recognizing it.
“Come inl” he bellowed.
He watched Perrin enter and close the door behind him, then cross the room to him with his quick, nervous steps, his eyes scanning the room to see if they were alone.
“Chief, the boys are restless. It’s spring, and most of them are broke. Have you got something in mind?” “A couple of things. Yes, it’s about time for them to move out.” He paused. “Are they all back?” “Most of them. Of course, as you know some of them never left.” “I’ve got one or two that look to be really tough. Seems it might be good for the kid to try one.” “Oh?” Perrin’s irritation was obvious. “You mean he’ll go along?” “I’m going to let him run it. The whole show. It will be good for him.” Kerb Perrin absorbed that. For the first time he began to seriously consider Mike Bastian. Until now the only rival for leadership if Curry stepped down was Molina. He knew little about Bastian except to see him ride in and out of camp. He hunted a lot, was often with Roundy, and he knew Bastian had sat in on some of the planning at times.
Yet for some reason he had never considered him as vying for leadership. Perrin had accepted the fact that there would be trouble with Rig Molina, but Bastian?
He was the old man’s adopted son, but—A quick, hot anger surged through him. It was all he could do to keep his voice calm. “Do you think that’s wise? How will the boys feel about a green kid leading them?” “He knows what to do, and they’ll find he’s as trailwise and smart as any of them. This is a big job and a tough one. his “Who goes along?” Kerb paused. “And what job?” “Maybe I’ll let him pick “em. Good practice for him. What job? I haven’t decided. Maybe the gold train, or maybe a job over in eastern Colorado. It’s one I’ve been thinking about for some time.” The gold train? To Kerb’s way of thinking that should be his job. He had discovered it, reported it, dug out most of the background detail. It was the job he wanted. It was a shipment from gold mines high in the mountains, gold brought down by muleback to the railroad, rich beyond dream. Months before, in laying out the plan for Curry, he had it vetoed. He had recommended killing every man jack of them. Burial nearby, no witnesses, nothing. The gold train would simply have vanished into thin air. And he could do it.
He knew he could.
“Too bloody,” Curry objected. “You’re beginning to sound like Molina.” “Dead men can’t talk,” Perrin insisted.
Ben Curry nodded agreement. “Maybe not, but their families can. A thing like that wakes people up, stirs their curiosity. Whenever people are killed some others want revenge or justice or whatever they call it. When- ever gold disappears it starts everybody in the country to looking.” Curry drummed his fingers on the table, thinking. “No,” he said finally, “we won’t do it. Not that way.” Even then as he spoke Curry was thinking of the effect upon the men if he let Bastian pull it off. Perrin was too bloody. Bastian would not be.
Moreover, he could probably come up with a plan.
Many of the men knew Bastian slightly. Some of them had helped to train him in various skills. Some of the older men were as proud of Mike as if he had been their own son. If he brought off this job his position in the gang would be established. Yet what of Perrin?
Now, much later, he thought again of giving the job to Bastian. It was big, the biggest in years.
Fury surged up within Perrin. Curry had no right to do thisl The gold train was his jobl He found it, he scouted it, and as for killing them, if Curry was squeamish he was not. A total washout, that was the way to go. And now he was being sidetracked for a kidl Curry was shoving Bastian down their throatsl His rage died, but in its place there was resolution. It was time he acted on his own. For too long he had done what the old man directed.
If Curry wanted the kid to handle the gold train, he would pull the other one whether Curry liked it or not. Moreover, he would be throwing a challenge into Curry’s teeth because he would plan this job without him. If there was to be a struggle for leadership let it begin here. “He’ll handle the job,” Curry said. “He has been trained and he has the mind for it. You boys couldn’t be in better hands.” Kerb Perrin left the stone house filled with a burning resentment, but also with a feeling of grim triumph. After years of taking orders he was going on his own. To hell with Ben Curryl He’d show himl He would show them All Yet a still small voice of fear was in him, too. What would Ben Curry do? The thought made him shrink inside. He had seen the cold fury of Curry when aroused, and he had seen him use a gun.
He was fast, but was he as fast and accurate as Ben Curry? In his innermost being Perrin doubted it. He shook off the doubt. He could beat him.
He knew he could. Yet maybe it would not be necessary.
There were other ways.
One thing he knew. He would have to do something about Ben Curry, and he would have to do it soon.
Mike Bastian stood before Ben Curry’s table and the two men stared at each other.
Ben Curry was huge, bearlike, and mighty.
His eyes were cool and appraising, yet there was kindliness in them, too. This was the son he had always wanted, tall, lithe, powerful in the shoulders, a child of the frontier grown to manhood, skilled in all the arts of the wilds, trained in every dishonest practice, every skill with weapons, but educated enough to conduct himself well in any company.
“Take four men and look over the ground yourself, Mike,” Ben Curry was saying. “I want you to plan this one. The gold train leaves the mines on the twentieth. There will be five wagons, the gold distributed among them, roughly five hundred thousand dollars of it.
“We’ve scouted the trail three times over the past couple of years, so all you’ll have to do is ride over it to be sure nothing has changed.
“Don’t be seen if you can help it. Don’t ask questions or loiter around anyplace where people are. If you speak to anybody ask how far it is to Prescott.
Let ‘em think you’re just passiri through. “When you’ve pulled off this job I’m goin” to step down and pass the reins to you. You’ll be in command.
You’ve known I intended to do this for some years now.
“I’m gettin’ up there in years, and I want a few years of quiet life. This outfit takes a strong hand to run it. Think you can handle it?” “I think so.” “I think so, too. Watch Perrin. He’s got a streak of snake in him. Rigger is dangerous, but whatever he does will be out in the open. It’s not that way with Perrin. He’s a conniver. He never got far with me because I was always a jump ahead of him, and I still aml” Curry fell silent, staring out the window at the distant peaks of the San Francisco mountains.
“Mike,” he said, more quietly, “sit down.
It’s time you an’ me had a talk. Maybe I’ve taken the wrong trail with you, raisin’ you the way I have, to be an outlaw an’ all.
“I’m not sure what’s right an’ what’s wrong, an’ to tell the truth, I never gave much thought to it.
When I came west it was dog eat dog and if you lived you had to have big teeth. I got knocked down and kicked around some. Cattlemen pushed me off the first homestead I staked, and killed my sister.