Chantry smiled. “They won’t. I’m quite good with a gun, you know.”
Sparrow’s eyes were bleak. “Yes, I was afraid of that. You have your father’s hands and his eyes.” He put a hand on Chantry’s sleeve. It was a sudden, uncharacteristic gesture, and it startled Chantry.
“Please. Don’t carry it any further, Tom. Don’t kill anyone else. A man can go too far with it.”
“Thanks,” was Tom Chantry’s only reply.
On a high rise, with the sun growing lower in the sky, he presented his gifts to the Kiowas.
“You have helped me,” he said. “That I cannot repay. I give you these small things to show you that I value your friendship. I hope nothing ever comes between your people and mine.”
“We go,” Wolf Walker said.
“G. One day I shall come to see you again. I shall
come to your lodge.”
“You will be welcome. My fire is yours.”
He watched them ride away, straight backs
dark against the sunset.
He swung his horse and rode back to town. Back to the haunts of men, the bargaining places, and the risks that attend living among rough and violent men. But he was at home now. This was his country.
And now he must see Doris. He must tell her of his plans.
The lights were on in the town. The great tents glowed with the lights inside, and black shadows moved across their canvas walls. Music came from within, and the click of poker chips and a roulette wheel.
Men leaned against the lamp posts topped off with lanterns, or thronged the muddy streets, churned by hoofs and boots. Horsemen rode by; other horses stood three-legged and sleepy at the hitching rails. He led his horse to a place near where he had bunched his cattle, and picketed it on good grass.
A man came out of the darkness and stood near him. It was Mobile Callahan.
“I figured you were dead,” Chantry said.
“No. I’ve been about my business.”
“Which is?”
“Keepin’ folks off your back.”
Ignoring the remark, Chantry asked,
“Where’s Bone? Did he make it?”
“Yeah. The cattle carried us west. We figured we’d better sit tight, after roundin’ up a few. There was trouble brewin’ here, and we knew you’d want Earnshaw and his girl looked after.”
“You were right. What danger are they in?”
“They’re close to you? That makes it enough.
There’s some folks don’t give up easy, and one of them is that she-cat Sarah.”
“She’s here?”
“She’s here all right, and the Talrims are with
her. And they ain’t all. She’s teamed up with two other galoots. Seems they are the ones who killed your pa.”
“There were three.”
“Two now. Only one of them’s got some
boys as mean as he is.”
He listened to the music, heard a loud laugh and the jingle of spurs, hard heels on a boardwalk … the only stretch of walk in town, in front of the general store, the biggest hotel tent, and a gambling place.
“Where is Earnshaw?” he asked.
Callahan nodded toward the siding.
“Private car, yonder. He came west with a friend of his, a railroad man.”
Chantry turned to go. “Watch your step,” Callahan warned. “They know you’re in town. They know they’ve got to kill you.”
“Where’s French?”
“Nobody has seen him. The word is that he
pulled his men away from you, figured you’d never get the herd in without him, and then he would have the herd if the Kiowas didn’t get it. I heard that some of his boys didn’t want to leave you, but he took them anyhow.”
“I hope that’s right. I liked those boys.”
Chantry walked back to the street. He
stood for a moment against the side of one of the frame buildings, looking up and down the street. It was crowded, any of those men might be the ones who sought him. He stepped out from the shadows and made his way between the scattered tents toward the siding where the private cars waited. Lights showed from their windows.
He studied the layout with care, but no one seemed to be about. Fifty yards or so away were a dozen empty boxcars and some flatcars, and beyond them the stockpens and a loading chute.
After a moment he crossed the open space to the nearest of the private cars and, grasping the handrail, swung up the steps to the platform at the rear. The door was of frosted glass, and he rapped gently.
The door opened and a white-coated Negro showed him into a comfortable lounge of plush-covered furniture, crystal chandeliers, Venetian mirrors, looped and fringed draperies, and antimacassars.
Doris Earnshaw was seated on a sofa, a book in her hand. At the sound of his voice she rose hurriedly and came to meet him.
For a moment she looked at him in astonishment.
“Tom! How you’ve changed!”
He grinned. “I need a bath,” he said.
“I just got in off the range.”
“But … but you’ve changed! You’re bigger, older, browner … everything!”
“Part of it will wash off. Out where I’ve been, having a bath isn’t a simple thing.”
Earnshaw came in. “Tom! Am I glad to see you! How are the cattle!”
“We brought most of them in. Around two thousand head, give or take a few.”
“What did you pay for them?”
He explained as briefly as possible. “Then
the herd is ours?” Earnshaw said. “It all seems unbelievable.”
“Out here,” Chantry said, “almost everything is.”
Earnshaw listened as he told of the beef
situation and the conditions in the area. “I can get twenty-two dollars a head for your stock right now, if they are in good shape,” he said. “What would you say to a quick sale right here, then buy another herd to ship east to our own plant?”
“Fine.”
He was thinking of the street out there, and what
remained for him to do. “I’d prefer that you two stay in the car,” he said, when Earnshaw had finished outlining his plans. “Let me handle the outside business. This is a pretty rough place.”
“I gathered as much,” Earnshaw said dryly.
He gave Chantry a quick, searching glance.
“What is this I hear about you?”
“Things are very different out here, sir.” He indicated the street. “Every man out there carries a gun. I expect you’ve heard some shooting.” He hesitated. “There are several men out there, and at least one woman, who want to kill me.”
He could see they did not believe him. “That’s silly!” Doris said. “Why would—“ She broke off. “Tom, you’re serious. You mean it.”
“Yes, I do.”
“A Mr. Sparrow told me something of the
sort,” Earnshaw said, “but it all seemed rather melodramatic.”
“Mr. Sparrow,” Chantry replied, “is a businessman. He is a cattleman and a rancher, and from all I gather, a very successful one.”
“He is certainly interested in you,” Earnshaw commented. “He assured me you were quite a remarkable young man.”
“But we knew that, didn’t we, Papa?”
Earnshaw studied him. “You’ve changed,
Chantry. I don’t know what it is about you.”
“I’ve survived, that’s what it is. I think periods of change are rather drastic out here, as compared with what happens in the East.”
When Earnshaw had retired to the sleeping compartments Doris came closer. “Tom, you mentioned a woman. What is she like?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I actually met her only once, and we weren’t exactly introduced. I don’t even know her last name; her first name is Sarah. She is here in town, I hear, and she seems to believe that my death would be advantageous. My advice to you is to keep your door locked at all times. Don’t let anyone in unless you know them well.”
He paused a moment. “Doris, your father mentioned a quick sale. Whom did he have in mind?”
“Colonel Enright. His car is right behind ours. He is here to buy beef, and he will pay cash … in gold.”
Chantry sat on the edge of the plush sofa, his hat in his hand. He was restless and uneasy. Was it the sudden change of surroundings? Was it only that he needed a bath, a change of clothes? Or was it the knowledge that out there in the dark trouble awaited him, trouble he could not avoid.
Slowly, almost thinking out loud, he reviewed for Doris all that had happened. When he had finished, she said, “What will she do now? You have the cattle here. You are alive, and possibly Mr. Williams is alive too. So what can she do?”
“If you were she, what would you do?”
She answered quickly. “I’d go for the money.
When you sell the cattle, I’d steal the money.”
He considered that. Until now Sarah had been working to inherit the cattle and sell the herd herself, and she had balked at nothing … nothing at all.