the Proving Trail (1979) Read online

  The Proving Trail Louis L'Amour *

  Chapter I All Winter Long I Held Them Cattle Up On The Plateau Whilst pa collected my wages down to town. Come firs t grass I taken them cattle down to Dingleberry's an d I told old Ding what he could do with them, that I ha d my fill of playin' nursemaid to a bunch of cows.

  He made quite a fuss, sayin' as how pa had hire d me out to him and I'd no choice, bein' a boy not ye t eighteen.

  So I told him if he figured I'd no choice, just t o watch the tail end of my horse because I was fetchin' o ut of there. I knew pa was down to town gamblin', workin' with my money as his base, but pa was a no-a ccount gambler, generally speakin', and couldn't see m to put a winnin' hand together.

  Nonetheless he might have enough put by to give m e a road stake, and I could make do with five dollars, i f he had it.

  Only when I rode into town pa was dead. He was no t only dead, he was buried, and they'd put a marker o n his grave.

  It taken the wind out of me. I just sort of backed of f an' set down. Pa, he was no more than forty, seeme d like, and a man in fair health for somebody who spen t most of his time over a card table.

  There was a lot of strangers in town, but one ma n who knowed me and who'd knowed pa, too, he tol d me, "Was I you I'd git straddle of that bronc an' ligh t a shuck. Ain't nothin' around town for you no more , with your pa dead."

  "How'd he die? It don't make no sense him dyin' r ight off, like that."

  "That's the way folks usually die, son. Everybod y knows he's goin' to die sometime, but nobody reall y expects to. You light out, son. I hear tell they're hirin' m en for work in the mines out in the western part o f the Territory."

  "How'd he die?" I persisted.

  "Well, seems like he killed hisself. I never did se e the body, mind. But Judge Blazer, he seen it. He sho t hisself. Lost money, I reckon. You know he was alway s gamblin'."

  "Hell," I said, disgusted, "he'd not kill himself fo r that! He'd done been losin' money all his life! Tha t man could lose more money than you'd ever see."

  "You take my advice, boy, an' you light out. There's some mighty rough folks in this town an' they won't take to no wet-eared boy nosin' around."

  That couldn't make no sense to me, because I'd been around rough folks all my life. We never ha d nothin', our family didn't, scrabblin' around for whatever it was we could find after ma died an' Pisto l that's my brother taken off. It just left me an' pa, an' w e'd gone from one cow camp or minin' camp to another. Now pa was dead an' I was alone.

  Pa wasn't much account, I guess, as men went, bu t he was pa, and a kindly man most of the time. We'd never had much to say to one another but hello o r good-bye or how much money was I holdin'? Nonetheless, he was pa an' I loved him, although that wa s a word we'd have been shamed to use.

  Pistol, he was my half brother, ten year older'n me , an' he'd taken off a long time back, six or seven year s back. Pa kind of hinted that Pistol had taken off alon g the outlaw trail but I never did think so. Pistol alway s seemed the kind to ride them straight up the middle.

  The Bon Ton was down the street, and I was surel y hard up for grub. I'd been so long without eatin', m y belly was beginning to think my throat was cut, s o I bellied up to a table in the Bon Ton and ordered , thankin' my stars a body could still get him a goo d meal for two bits.

  Until I set down there, I'd had no chance to giv e much thought to pa. We'd sort of taken one anothe r for granted, or so it had seemed to me. Now all of a sudden he was gone and there was a great big hol e in my life and an emptiness inside me.

  Nothing had ever seemed to go right for pa. A c ouple of times we had ourselves a little two-by-twic e outfit, but the first time it was get run off or fight, a n ma didn't want us to fight so we pulled out. Then th e Comanches run us off the next place, stealin' ou r horses and cows an' leavin' us with a burned-up wago n and no stock. Next time pa was about to make out , ma took sick, and it needed all pa had just for doctor's bills and such. After that pa took to gamblin' reg'la r and it was all bad cards and slow horses.

  Man at the next table was talkin'. "Never seen such a thing," he was sayin', "not in all my born days. Whe n they raised him that last time, he taken out a sixs hooter an' there for a minute nobody knew what wa s going to happen. Then he put that gun down in th e middle of the table. 'Ought to be worth twenty dollars,' h e says, 'and I raise you twenty.'

  "Two of them stayed, and when the showdown cam e he was holdin' a full house. Well, sir, that started it!

  You never seen the like! The cards began rennin' hi s way and it seemed he couldn't do anything wrong! I f they could have gotten the governor into the game , he'd have owned the Territory! I tell you, he must hav e won eight, maybe ten thousand dollars!"

  The waitress brought me beef and beans and fille d my coffee cup. She was a pretty redhead with freckles , and when she leaned over to pour my coffee, I looke d up at her and she whispered, "You be careful! You b e real careful!"

  "What's that mean?" I said. "I never said a word."

  "I don't mean that. Was I you, I'd fork that roa n of yours and ride right out of town and never even loo k back. Ifn I was you, they'd never see me for the dust."

  "Why? What have I done? I ain't been to town fo r months, and no sooner do I ride in than folks star t tellin' me I should leave."

  "You better," she warned, and walked away.

  Well, I drank some coffee and it tasted mighty good.

  Then I went to work on the beef and beans, half-hearin' t he talk at the next table about that card game. "It wa s that six-shooter did it. He'd been losin' steady unti l he staked that six-shooter with the pearl handle and th e little red birds inlaid into the pearl. I declare, I "

  Well, I just stopped chewin'. I set there for a ful l minute before I leaned over to that man and said , "Sounds real pretty. Did you say red birds in a pear l handle?"

  "That's right! Talk about lucky! That gun worked a charm! Soon's he put up that gun his luck changed an' t here was no stoppin' him."

  "Medium-sized man, with a mustache?"

  "Had him a mustache, all right, but he was a tall , thin galoot. Wore one of those Prince Albert coats , a black frock coat, y'know." He peered at me. "D'yo u know him?"

  "The gun sounds familiar. I got an eye for guns, an d a man wouldn't be likely to forget anything like that."

  "He sure was lucky! Won him maybe nine, te n thousand dollars! More'n that, he won the deed t o some big cattle outfit up north. He seemed to mak e all the wrong moves, yet he kept pullin' down the hig h cards."

  The other man at the table looked around. "Onl y reason he didn't win all the money in the world wa s because those other fellers didn't have it. He just wo n all they did have. I seen it."

  They went back to talkin' amongst themselves, an d I finished what was before me. Meanwhile I did som e thinkin'. Now, I'm not quick to think. I act fast bu t I consider slow. I like to contemplate a subject, turnin' i t on the spit of my mind until I have seen all sides o f it. This here shaped up like plain, old-fashione d trouble.

  I was right sorry for pa. rd be sorrier later on, fo r t hings never hit me all of a sudden. Yet maybe I s houldn't be sorry for him, because pa died right a t the peak of the greatest run of luck he'd ever had.

  He died winners, and not many gamblers could sa y that. Certainly nobody expected pa to beat the game , but he had. If he had come off that run of luck alive , he'd have lost it all had he continued to gamble. So he passed out a winner.

  Shot through the skull, though. Now how com e that?

  Whose was the bullet? What finger squeezed off tha t shot?

  Now I could see why folks were suggesting I ge t away while I could. They didn't want too many bodie s clutterin
' up the town, and me bein' his son and all .. .

  I walked across the street to Judge Blazer's. He wa s not only a judge but the coroner as well.

  He was a-settin' up there on the porch of that ho-tel , tipped back in a chair smokin' a big seegar. He see n me comin' and squinted his eyes to make me out.

  I promise you I didn't look like Sunday meetin' time. r d been all winter up in the mountains, and it wa s almighty cold up there. I was wearin' all the clothe s I owned, and I'd made a hole in a blanket for a poncho.

  "Judge Blazer," I said, "you buried my pa. I've com e for his belongin's."

  He just set there. Then he taken the seegar fro m his lips. "Now, now, son, you know your pa never ha d nothing. He was never much account at anything at all , and all he done for the past year was gamble. We don e buried him our own selves, and he had just three dollar s and six bits on him when he passed on. He had hi m a gold watch and his six-shooters. One was in his hand , the other was on the bureau." He hitched himsel f around in his chair. "You're welcome to 'em."

  He got up and went through the door ahead of me.

  He was a big man, and fat, but folks said he was almighty strong, that little of what looked like fat wa s really fat. I never cottoned to him much, but had h e known he'd not have cared. Who was I but a youngste r still wet behind the ears? He thought.

  In his office he waved at a table. There was a roll--t op desk, a big iron safe, a brass spittoon, and ther e was this table. There lay one of pa's guns in the holste r with his gun belt. The other gun lay free on the table.

  Pa's old black hat was there, too.

  Judge Blazer taken three dollars and six bits from a drawer and put it down along with a gold watch.

  "There you be, boy. You he'p yourself an' run along.

  I got business to attend to."

  Well, I taken up that gun belt an' strapped her on.

  She settled down natural-like against my leg. Then I p ocketed the watch and the money and swapped m y beat-up old hat for pa's black one. Then I spun th e cylinder on that second gun, and it was fully loaded.

  Pa was always careful with his guns. He kept them. f irst-rate.

  She was working and she was ready.

  "Judge?" I was holdin' right to that six-shooter , kind of casual-like, but ready. "Seems to me you'r e bein' forgetful, I guess a man like you, with busines s and all, could forget."

  He turned around slow and he stared hard at me.

  He looked from me to the gun, then back at me.

  Maybe I was only seventeen, but pa an' me had cu t the mustard in a lot of mean places. He didn't look n o different than a lot of others we'd met.

  "Forget what?" he asked.

  "All that money. Pa had him some winnin' hands tha t last night. He won a lot of cash money and he wo n property, and I don't see any of it on that table."

  "Now, now, son! You've been misinformed. I t hink "

  "Mister Judge," I said, keeping my voice quiet-like , "this here gun don't have so much patience. Could ge t right hasty, in fact. Now, if you'd like, I can round u p twenty, maybe thirty witnesses who saw that game.

  There's a lot of strangers in town, Judge, and the y ain't afeered of you, an' many of them seen wha t happened last night. The whole town's talkin'. You hol d out one penny on a poor orphant boy who's just lost hi s pa an' I think those boys would be huntin' theirselve s a rope. Now I can guess why ol' Dingleberry was s o upset about me pullin' my freight. You'd likely tol d him to keep me busy up yonder until all this sort o f blowed over."

  He didn't like it. No man likes to give up that kin d of money to what he figures is a no-account boy. Tha t was probably more money than the judge hisself ha d seen all to one time, and he was in no mood to le t loose of it. On the other hand, there I stood with a sixs hooter and maybe I was trigger-happy.

  "You pull that trigger, boy, an' you'll hang fo r sure."

  "I don't know anybody got hung for shootin' a thief," I said.

  His face flushed up red and angry. His eyes go t real mean. "Now, you look here!"

  Me, I just tilted that gun a mite. "All you got to d o to prove me wrong is hand over that money and thos e deeds. If you want to go to court about it, we can arrange to hold it yonder in the saloon where pa won th e money."

  He didn't like any part of it, but he didn't want t o hear what a jury of rough-and-ready western me n would say, either. They believed in fair play and mos t of them had seen the game.

  Reluctantly he dropped to one knee in front of th e safe, and I moved right behind him. Maybe I looke d green, but not so green that I didn't know some folk s kept a six-shooter in their safe to watch the money.

  Sure enough, I seen one. As he reached his hand fo r it, I said, "Judge, when your hand comes out of tha t safe, it better have nothing in it but money. You la y hold of that gun and you still have to turn around t o shoot. I don't."

  He got up, very careful, holding the money in hi s two hands. He placed it on the table in front of me, an d I told him to back off, easy-like.

  "Son," he said, "I wasn't holdin' out on you. I m eant to take care of this money for you until yo u come of age. Fact is," and I'd bet the idea just occurre d to him, "I've been fixin' to get myself appointed you r guardian by the court." He smiled like a cat Hokin' c ream. "A young boy with all that there money, h e needs advice. I figure to send you off to school to ge t you some eddication."

  "You ain't my guardian or likely to be," I said.

  "On the contrary." He was pleased with himself now.

  "I'll draw up the papers. Appoint myself your guardian.

  I'll take that money an' invest it for you."

  "Pull in your horns, Judge. You made your play an' y ou've come up empty. Just give me that deed."

  "Ain't worth the paper it's writ on," Blazer protested.

  "Just hand it over," I insisted, and he done so. He didn't like it, but he could see my thumb was holdin' b ack the hammer, and if I was so much as nudged tha t gun would tear a hole in him big enough to drive a Conestoga wagon through.

  Backing to the door, I stepped into the street, pulle d the slipknot on the tie rope, and stepped into the saddle.

  That roan was tired. He was plumb beat, but he sense d I was in trouble an' he taken out of there like a scare d rabbit.

  There was a road into town and there was a roa d out of town, and it stood to reason I had to take on e or the other, so I took neither. I took the trail to m y cow camp, which I figured would be the last place they'd look.

  First place, nobody rightly knew where it was bu t me, and there was no need to pass Dingleberry's plac e in gettin' there, so there'd be nobody to report my passing. That cow camp had been home for the roan fo r some time, so he taken the trail at a good gait. Twic e I glanced back. Nobody was in sight.

  They'd study on it and Blazer would figure it out, bu t not until they had wasted time on other trails, and b y that time I hoped it would be too late.

  Only I'd better hurry. If it came on to snow befor e I got off the mountain and there could be heav y snows up yonder I'd be in trouble.

  If a man got snowed in up there at this time of year , he might never get off. It was slide country and all th e trails in or out were subject to snowslides.

  The year had been an open one with little snow. Col d as it was, the grass was good, cured on the stem, and th e cattle had done well. I'd kept alert, ready to move the m fast if need be, and there were some valleys close by tha t offered shelter. In that country a man got out fast or h e was stuck. That had been all right for me, as I'd ha d plenty of grub stashed up there and fuel close to hand.

  Trouble was that during the winter I'd used up mos t of the grub and the fuel as well.

  The wind blew cold off the peaks and the trickles o f melt had stopped flowing,, which meant it was freezin g on top. The roan, tired as he was, stepped faster. Fro m where the trail topped out, four or five miles shy of th e high grass, I turned in my saddle to look back.

  Nothing i
n sight, nothing at all. But I knew the y were back there, and I knew they were coming.

  How much money I had I didn't know, but it wa s a-plenty and Blazer figured to have that money. He wouldn't be coming alone. He'd have however man y he figured he needed, no matter what reason he gav e them. He was a judge, probably no more than a justic e of the peace, I thought. Still, he knew more about th e law than me and he might be able to get himself appointed my guardian. He could even appoint himsel f and make a good story of how I was a wild kid wh o needed taking care of. Meanwhile he'd have his use of , and the spending of, my money.

  When I saw, far ahead, the dark shadow of the cabin , it was already coming on to snow. I pulled up, although the roan wanted to go on in. I sat in my saddl e taking a long look at my hole card, and it didn't shap e up to very much.

  How did I know nobody knew of that place but me?

  Wasn't I taking a lot for granted? That gold mone y rested heavy in my saddlebags and so did the paper.

  The gold might be just too much weight, going off th e mountain in the deep snow. Besides, if they got me I d idn't want them to profit by it.

  It was then I thought of the cache.

  Chapter II It was a crack in the rock, that was all, hidden in a niche of the wall. It was a crack not over six inche s wide and maybe two feet deep about ten feet off th e ground. I'd found it a handy place to cache a bite o f lunch, time to time, or some extra ammunition an d coffee in case the cabin burned down whilst I was wit h the cattle.

  The cabin was still a good two miles off, although I c ould see a kind of black blotch where it stood. Swinging the bronc over to the niche, I stood up in my stirrups and put the gold away back in that crack and the n the bills and replaced the rock that closed th e crack.

  Three hundred dollars in paper money I kept. I h id five twenties under the sweatband of my hat, another five in a slit in my belt, and the last five I w added into a tight ball in the bottom of my holster.

  That last made my gun ride a little high, but th e thong would still slip over it, although a snug fit. I wa s figuring on using my waist gun if I had to use any.