She is a lady, boys.” He gestured toward the mules. “All that belongs to her, by rights. Bring it in, will you?” Deliberately, he swung his horse, turning his back on them. And then he cantered out over the darkening prairie.
“You know something?” The Arkansawyer spat. “There goes a square man!” As Shevlin started across the flat, he paused only to slip out of his slicker and tie it behind his saddle. The clouds were breaking, and a star was showing through. He loosened the Winchester in his boot, singing softly, “As I walked out on the streets of Laredo, As I walked out in Laredo one day…”
The room was long and low, with a counter doubling as a bar. There were shelves of canned goods, stacked Levis, slickers, and boots. The room smelled of new leather, dry goods, strong coffee, and stronger plug tobacco. Behind the counter sat Tag Murray and the telegrapher, minding their own affairs.
Red, still pale from the abuse he had taken for bringing Laine Tennison to Tappan, clutched a beer in his hand, staring at the circles he was drawing on the bar.
Laine, standing very straight, smiled at Ben.
“Really, Mr. Stowe, if you plan to take my gold from here, you must expect trouble. You’re going to have to cut telegraph wires, even do some shooting. Your retriever here,” she gestured at Red, “did not notice that Doctor Clagg, Billy Townsend, and several others–including Wilson Hoyt–were saddling up when we passed the stable.” “Ma’am,” Ben Stowe said abruptly, “you sit down and shut up.” “Now, look here, Ben–was Tag started to protest.
“You shut up, too. Red, put a shotgun on them. If they start anything give them both barrels, then reload and shoot them again.” “Do you really believe,” Laine said, “that you will get out of the Territory with that gold? Will it be so easy, Mr. Stowe?” Ben Stowe’s anger was passing. Red had been a damned fool to bring Laine Tennison here, but he needed Red for the time being, and the girl was no more than a nuisance.
“Sorry, Red. I spoke too fast. All we need is a hysterical woman on our hands.” “Sure, Boss. I wasn’t thinkin’.” Ben Stowe knew that the rain had stopped, and that the sounds he had been hearing for the last few seconds were those of a walking horse. The first few hoof-falls had barely touched the fringe of his consciousness, but now he was sharply aware that a horse had come to a stop outside.
He half turned to face the door, heard something hit the mud, and then blundering footsteps.
The door opened and Babcock came in.
His face was haggard, the wound had started to bleed again, and his shirt was already stiff with dried blood.
“Tag,” he said, “I caught a bad one.
It’s real bad.” Ignoring the shotgun, Tag Murray moved quickly to Babcock’s side and eased him into a chair. Laine Tennison, without being asked, had gone to the stove and was pouring hot water into a tin basin. Tag began cutting away the shirt with scissors.
“What happened?” Ben Stowe asked.
When Babcock did not reply, Stowe stepped to the bar and poured a stiff drink of whiskey, and handed it to the wounded man. “What happened?” he asked again.
Babcock tossed off the liquor in two quick gulps. “First drink you ever bought me, Ben.
Thanks.” He looked up at Stowe. “When your mule train didn’t show up, Winkler figured it out and we cut over the hills. We were set to ambush the train, then that damn’ Shevlin came down on us from behind. I never did figure how he got there.
“He was on us before we knew what happened, and his first shot tipped the mule drivers and they came up the slope. Shevlin killed Ray Hollister. Winkler and Sande and Halloran got it, too.” “How many of my men?” “Three down and a couple scratched.” “Shevlin?” “He’s bringin’ the stuff in. He told me to go on ahead an’ get Tag here to fix me up.” Ben Stowe looked at the arm with distaste. Used as he was to violence, he never liked to look upon the results of violence, and Babcock’s arm was a sorry sight. The bullet must have caught the arm when it was bent and upraised, for it had shattered the elbow, torn the biceps, and imbedded itself in the deltoid muscle at the end of the shoulder.
“We better get Doc Clagg over here, Bab,” Murray said. “That’s surely a mess. I don’t think anybody can make anything of that elbow again.” “Fix it as best you can.” Babcock stared bleakly into the years ahead as a one-armed cowman.
However, he had seen a few, and some did pretty well. If somebody else could, he could.
“Whatever happens,” Ben Stowe said, “you people stay clear of it. I don’t want to shoot anybody protecting a legitimate gold shipment.
“That man”–he indicated Babcock–“is an admitted outlaw. He attempted to steal the shipment from the mine of which I am superintendent.
Please remember that.” “You are discharged,” Laine said, “and you are not authorized to make such a shipment.” Stowe smiled at her. “Now, ma’am,” he said pleasantly, “I know you as a guest of Doc Clagg’s. Whatever else you may be, I don’t know. You’ve no authority that I know of, and no cause even to be here except that Red here figured I would want to talk to you. He was wrong.
“I am,” he went on, speaking clearly, “making a legitimate shipment from the mines of a small amount of gold. I have the authority to do this. If anyone interferes, I shall take legal action.” Laine looked around helplessly. The telegrapher merely shrugged. Tag Murray was busy with Babcock, and Red grinned smugly.
Of course, what Stowe said was true. Even if the law had been here, she could not have stopped the shipment… not just on her word alone. And the train was due in less than an hour.
Just the same, Ben Stowe was worried. Laine could see it in his restlessness, in his continual glances at the clock. The train was coming soon and the gold had not yet arrived.
And right in the middle of things was Mike Shevlin. He was the key man. He was working for her, but Ben Stowe had offered him a better deal.
As for whatever else there was between herself, and Shevlin, was there really something there? Or had she only imagined it?
From the first, she had felt drawn to him, less to his undeniable good looks than to his strength.
When all the others had wavered, he had stood for what he believed, and down deep within her she was positive that he still stood for it, that he was the man she believed in. Yet the question was there: was he the sort of man she thought, or was she only listening to a wish that he might be?
Red lounged against the counter, a cigarette dangling from his lips, the shotgun in his hands.
Ben Stowe walked over to the window and looked out, but the night was dark, and revealed nothing. When she looked at him, she was shaken with fear for Mike Shevlin. Ben Stowe looked formidable.
He was big, powerful, and somehow seemed indomitable. He seemed beyond, the strength of the men around her, beyond anyone’s strength.
Yet he was gambling now, gambling with his life and the work of years. He was gambling that another man, who was perhaps an enemy, could bring that gold across the mountains. That he had done so was obvious, for Babcock had crossed with Shevlin. Where was Shevlin now? There was no sound in the room except the heavy tick of the clock and the subdued rustling where Tag Murray worked over Babcock.
Suddenly Murray turned and straightened up.
“Ben, we’ve got to send for Doc Clagg.
Else this man will lose an arm.” “The hell with him!” Stowe said violently, then he glanced around at Babcock. After all, the issue would have been decided long before Clagg could get here. “Oh, all right,” he said with a shrug.
There was a moment of silence in the room, for the question in the mind of each was: Who will go?
Laine looked at Ben Stowe, an amused smile on her lips. “I am sure Red would like to go. Wouldn’t you, Red?” Stowe turned sharply from the window. “Like hell!
I need him right here.” He glanced around. “You can go, Tag, or you can wait until my men get here and I’ll send one of them. After all, I have five men out there with Shevlin.” “Don’t be too sure,” Babcock said.
“What’s that mean?” Babcock raised his head and stared at Ben Stowe. “It means those men rode over the mountains with Mike Shevlin, and when they had a fight, Mike pulled them out of it. Mike was with them.