“What lies off there?” Shanaghy pointed south.
“Holstrum’s place. That’s why they called it that. He owns most of this land aside from the right-of-way. He has a nice little cabin over there. Dick and I used to ride by sometimes, when we were younger. But since that mean Mr. Moorhouse has been there, we don’t go anymore. Dick made me promise I wouldn’t even ride this way.”
“He’s mean, you say. What’s he like?”
“He’s awfully big. Hulking. He has a mustache and he’s always unshaved. He wears bib overalls, not the western kind, and he’s dirty. He’s very strong. I saw him pick up a whole barrel of vinegar once and put it on a wagon.” “A barrel of vinegar? Must weigh five hundred pounds!” “I know. It took two very strong men to lift it off when we got it home. He was helping Mr. Holstrum in town then.”
“Do you know Holstrum well?”
“Oh, I suppose so,” Jan said. “He’s a nice man, but lonely, I think. He still thinks of me as a little girl. I’d be uncomfortable around him if he didn’t, I mean, from the way he looks at some girls.
“But … I don’t know. A few months ago there was a girl came to town … Not a very nice one … I think she worked in saloons and places like that. She tried to make up to him and he would have nothing to do with her.” Shanaghy chuckled. “He’s got his sights set higher. He wants a lady, a real lady. He told me once about one … the kind he liked … smelling of nice perfume, and very ladylike and … “
He stopped abruptly and they looked at each other. “Tom? Do you think-? Could it be? That girl. The one you saw in the restaurant? She looks like a lady, and she does use very good scent. I mean-“ “Jan … don’t look now, and don’t stop. Just keep riding but bear off a little to the north.”
“What’s wrong?”
“There’s somebody there … at the water tower. He’s watching us!”
SIXTEEN
The water tower was no more than two hundred yards off and the man had a glass.
Shanaghy could see the reflected light from it. He was watching them. Fortunately they had not been riding straight toward the tank but a little north of it, planning to turn when they reached the trail. “Keep right ahead until we reach the trail, then turn north.”
“But who could it be?” Jan asked.
“I’d like to know, but I suspect this would not be a good time to go nosing around.”
“You’d ride right down there if I weren’t here,” she protested. “Maybe … But I want them all, not just one man. I want the man who killed Carpenter.”
“If it was a man.”
“What?” He glanced at her. “What do you mean by that?” “Women can commit crimes, too. Carpenter was in somebody’s way, and I don’t think it was only because he was about to find the horses. I think he was in the way anyhow.”
Shanaghy glanced out of the corners of his eyes toward the water tower. The man was no longer using the glass but had picked up a rifle. They rode down a slight bank into the trail and turned north, away from the water tank. Desperately, Shanaghy wished to look back, but he forced himself not to turn his head even the slightest. The trail was one rarely used and showed no recent evidence of travel, so those at the water tank must have come in along the tracks or from the south.
“A little faster,” he said. How far were they now? Three hundred yards? No, not quite so much.
They topped a rise and dropped over into a small hollow through which ran a stream. There, at the edge of a clump of willows, a man sat on a boulder. He was bearded and old, wearing a moth-eaten coonskin cap, fringed buckskin pants and a checked black and white shirt. In his hands he carried a rifle, and over his back a pack in which there was a blanket and poncho. “Howdy, folks! Nice day!” He noted the badge. “Ha? Marshal, is it? Well, it’s about time some of you fellers picked up their sign.” They drew up. “Whose sign?”
“You mean you ain’t seen ‘em? I mean that triflin’ lot who’re down yonder by the tank. Lucky this here stream’s here or a body couldn’t even fetch hisself a drink.”
“What d’you know about them?”
“Know? I know all I need to know. They’re rough folks. Kill you soon as look at you. They done shot at me.”
“When?”
“Three, four days back. Some city feller down yonder by the water tank, he said I was to git away an’ not come back.
“I ast if’n he was the railroad, and he said he wasn’t but he spoke for them. I ast him if he spoke for Big Mac and he said that made no difference, I was to git. I told him Big Mac said I could have all the water I needed, and he said he was tellin’ me I couldn’t.
“Well, I could see he didn’t know Big Mac, and he surely had nothin’ to do with the road, an’ I told him so. He ups with a six-shooter and told me to hightail it, and I done so.
“Right then I knowed somethin’ was almighty wrong, because Big Mac is division superintendent of this line an’ ever’body knows him. Nobody who works for that road would speak slighting of Big Mac … He’d skin ‘em alive. An’ Mac is a friend of mine. Me an’ his pa prospected together. “So I kept nosin’ around an’ they seen me. I surely wasn’t hidin’ … No reason to … An’ one of them waved me off, then this city feller … My eyes is still good for distance … He ups with his rifle and killed my burro. He killed ol’ Buster … Buster, he been with me nine, ten year. Killed him … creased me. “Well, Marshal, I ain’t about to leave. Not until I get me one of them. Hopeful, it’ll be that city feller. I had him true in my sights the other day, an’ then that woman come between us. She-“ “What woman?”
“Her who brings ‘em grub sometimes. I seen her come over there a time or two, sometimes with a rig an’ sometimes a’horseback.” “Young, pretty woman?”
“Sort of. Depends on what a man calls purty an’ what he calls young. But attractive, I’d say, mighty attractive.”
The old man peered at Shanaghy. “You’re that there new feller I’ve heard talk of. Come right in and come to be marshal right off.” “Nobody else wanted the job.”
“I reckon not. Not with Rig hurtin’ like he is.” Shanaghy had been about to ride on, but the words pulled him up short. “Rig hurting, you say?” He studied the old man. “You talk like you know where he is.” “I should smile, I do! Nobody knows no better!” The old man chuckled. “Him a’frettin’ an’ a’sweatin’ over all this here, an’ me tellin’ him not to worry, that you got it under con-trol!”
“Where is he?”
The old man cocked his head. “Where? Now wouldn’t you like to know? I reckon them fellers down to the tank would give a purty penny to know just where he’s at.”
He chuckled again, looking very wise. “They had him. Had him dead to rights. All lashed up like one o’ them Christmas packages, an’ I snuck in an’ fetched him away!”
He chuckled again. “You should have seen ‘em! Like chickens with their heads off, runnin’ all over, here an’ yonder! An’ that woman, she was fit to be tied! Read ‘em the riot act, she did!”
Tom Shanaghy held very still. He glanced over at Jan. Her eyes were wide and she was caressing her horse’s neck, fooling with the mane. “I’d like to see him,” she said. “Is he all right? I mean, wasn’t he hurt?” “Hurt? You’re darn tootin’, he was hurt! They figured they had him killed, but they didn’t want him found. They figured to have him disappear, like. I reckon so’s they’d figure him still around. That way the folks in town wouldn’t latch onto somebody to take his place. Like they done you.” He chuckled. “That must’ve upset ‘em! Upset ‘em plenty! You comin’ in out of nowhere, actin’ like you was sent!”
He peered at Shanaghy. “Can’t figure out why they ain’t kilt you.”
“They’ve tried.”
“I should reckon.” The old man bobbed his head. “You get through this night … you’re shot with luck. Up to now they been foolin’. Now they got to git shut of you.”
He looked around at Jan. “You’re wishful to see Rig Barrett? I’ll take you to him.”