The Man Called Noon by Louis L’Amour

“There was nobody there, at first,” Lebo said. “Then a man came, a big blonde young man. He thought the senorita was still there. Nobody had told him she was gone. He rode away then. I think,” Lebo added, “he had run into trouble on the mountain.”

“You didn’t see Henneker or Billing?”

“Only a Chinese cook who grumbled when he fed me, but who fed me well.”

“How did you come to be here?”

“I know of this place,” Lebo said. “Once, long ago when I was no more than fourteen years, I come here with my father. He was looking for gold. A long time ago, he said, the Spanish came here for gold, and some had been hidden, but we did not find any. But my father hid in this place”-he gestured toward the tree house- “when the Utes were nearby.”

He dropped his cigarro into the dirt and rubbed it out with his toe. “Somebody comes,” he said.

There were five in the group, and Peg Cullane was one of them. Judge Niland was beside her, and Ben Janish. Lyman Manly was there, and John Lang.

Despite the miles she must have ridden, Peg Cullane looked neat, and as cool as ever. She drew up a short distance away and looked at Ruble Noon, who had gotten to his feet.

“You should have listened when you had the chance,” she said. “Now you have no chance.”

“That’s a matter of opinion,” he said coolly.

“There are five of us,” she said.

“But only one that’s you,” he replied calmly, “and that needs only one bullet.”

“You’d shoot a woman?”

He smiled. “You’ve chosen to play games with the boys, and when you do that, you accept the penalties. I see here only four men and one cold, treacherous wench who would betray her best friend for a dollar.”

Her anger flared but he ignored her as she started to speak, and he said to the others, “I hope you’ve considered that. Whatever you might get out of this will be what she wants you to get, and that will be almighty little. Be sure of this: she’s already planned to have it all.”

As he spoke he was thinking of Cagle and Bayles … where were they?

Were they even now getting into position somewhere to attack him? Or were they her insurance of keeping the money after she had it? Did Judge Niland know of them? Did Janish?

Another thought came to mind. Who had killed Dean Cullane? Was it Janish? He had believed so, but he was no longer sure. . . . What about Judge Niland? It could be Niland.

Miguel Lebo was out of sight, and it was doubtful if they even knew of his being in this region, for so much had happened so fast.

Ruble Noon did not want a shooting, but if it had to be, he was prepared. He faced them, thinking coolly that he would have to take Janish first, though the others were just as dangerous. Niland, who was good in the woods and good with a rifle, might not be so good with a six-gun. Strangely, it was not Ben Janish who worried him so much as Lang, a cool, quiet man seemingly without nerves.

“Give us the money,” Peg Cullane said, “and you can ride out of here.”

Ruble Noon laughed. He could sense a change in himself, something brought about by the tension of the moment. He was ready, he was anxious for them to begin. He wanted them to open the ball. He wanted them to make a move.

He took an easy step forward. “Well, boys, this is what you came to town for. This is what you carry your guns for. Somebody draws, somebody dies … maybe all of us. Who wants to start the music?”

Lyman Manly edged to one side, easing his horse over, and Ruble Noon laughed at him. “Don’t try to get out of it, Manly. I could have had you back on the Rio Grande. I was standing right behind you when you were questioning Senora Lebo. I could have cut you in two, but I didn’t think it was worth it.”

He wanted to make them uneasy, unsure. He wanted to worry them, to make them shoot too fast, be too ready to turn….

“You boy’s haven’t kept track of Arch Billing, have you? Or Henneker? That old coot is tougher than the lot of you, did you guess that? He’d take your hair and never give it a thought. … Do you think we’re alone here? Just you five and me?”

“He’s bluffing!” Niland said impatiently. Then he said, “Don’t be a fool! You’re an intelligent man. You’ve lost nothing here. You can go back to your own life, pick up where you left off and nobody be the wiser. All you have to do is tell where the money is.”

“You’d take it and run?” Ruble Noon smiled grimly. He was feeling good. He was ready for what was going to happen, and he wanted it to happen. Even as he thought that, he knew it was dangerous thinking. He was an intelligent man and, he hoped, a civilized one.

The trouble was, he was facing a group of people who cared not one whit for the rights of others. They did not want peacer because they could profit by violence; and violence was their way. It was not a matter of what would happen, it was only when.

They would like nothing better than for him to turn to walk away so they could shoot him in the back. But he had been pushed, hunted, driven, and now he would be driven no longer.

Suddenly, in a clear, cool voice, Fan Davidge spoke behind him and from above. She would be on the ledge, aiming through the leaves. They could not even see her.

“Ruble, you don’t have to shoot Peg. I’ll do it. If she makes a move toward a gun, I’ll shoot her right in the face. At this range I can’t miss.”

He saw Peg’s features go taut. He saw her frightened look to left and right. Peg wanted to kill, not to be killed … or rather, she wanted the money, and she would not care at all who got killed as long as it was not herself. Now she was looking straight at the barrel of a rifle and she could not even see Fan Davidge.

Ruble Noon gave a faint smile at the shock of surprise that went through them all-Fan was here! And if she was here, who else might be?

“I’ll take Manly, amigo,” Lebo said then. “I want him first.”

Another one! And this a voice they had never heard. A slight Spanish accent … a Spanish word … Judge Niland’s eyes were a little wider now.

“There’s going to be some empty saddles tonight,” Ruble Noon said. “Everybody is spoken for but you, Ben, so that leaves you to me. And I owe you one. That bullet of yours gave me a few headaches. .. . And by the way, was it you who murdered Dean Cullane? Or was it Niland?”

Peg gave a quick, involuntary move to look at Ben Janish, and the gunman’s face went white. “Damn you, Noon!” he said. “I’m going to-”

“Any time,” Noon said calmly. “Just any time.”

“Wait! There was sheer panic in Peg Cullane’s tone. She had no doubt that Fan would shoot her, because in Fan’s place she would certainly have shot, and Peg did not want to die.

“We will ride off,” she said. “You win this round. But don’t think this is over.”

“Ride,” Ruble Noon said. “You can all ride except Ben Janish.”

“All right, Noon,” Janish said quietly, “if you want it that way.”

“I do,” Noon said.

The others were turning away, slowly so as not to attract a shot. There were men in the brush and trees, men in the cliff house, and they had no idea how many. But however many there were, none but Noon presented a target for them. They might kill him, but they would be shot to pieces themselves.

“I’m on the ground, Ben,” Noon said quietly. “You might as well get down. After I kill you, I don’t want them saying I took advantage.”

Ben Janish stared at him. Then he carefully gathered the reins in his left hand.

He will throw his leg over, hit the ground in a crouch, and shoot under the horse’s belly, Ruble Noon told himself.

Janish threw the leg over, dropped to the ground, and Noon’s first bullet struck his thigh at the hipbone, and turned Janish halfway around.

The frightened horse leaped away, and Ben Janish swore and swung around to bring his gun to bear.

Ruble Noon faced him, standing wide-legged and ready, and as the gunman came full toward him, his gun swinging across his body to fire, Ruble Noon shot quickly.

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