Riders Of the Dawn (1980) Read online

  A noontime sun was darkening my buckskin with swea t when I turned up Cottonwod Wash. There was green gras s here, and trees, and the water that trickled down was clea r and pure. The walls of the wash were high and the tree s towered to equal them, and the occasional cattle looked fa t and lazy, far better than elsewhere on this range. The pat h ended abruptly at a gate bearing a large sign in white letter s against a black background.

  TWO BAR GATE

  RANGED FOR A SPENCER .56

  SHOOTING GOING ON HERE

  Ball evidently had his own ideas. No trespasser who go t a bullet could say he hadn’t been warned. Beyond this gate a man took his own chances. Taking off my hat, I rose in m y stirrups and waved it toward the house.

  A gun boomed, and I heard the sharp whop of a bulle t whipping past. It was a warning shot, so I merely waved onc e more. That time the bullet was close, so I grabbed my ches t with both hands and slid from the saddle to the ground.

  Speaking to the buckskin, I rolled over behind a boulder.

  Leaving my hat on the ground in plain sight, I removed a boot and placed it to be seen from the gate. Then I crawle d into the brush, from where I could cover the gate.

  Several minutes later, Ball appeared. Without comin g through the gate, he couldn’t see the boot was empty.

  He was a tall old man with a white handlebar mustach e and shrewd eyes. No fool, he studied the layout carefully, bu t to all appearances his aim had miscalculated and he ha d scored a hit. He glanced at the strange brand on the buckski n and at the California bridle and bit. Finally, he opened th e gate and came out, and as he moved toward my horse his bac k turned toward me. “Freeze, Ball! You’re dead in my sights!”

  He stood still. “Who are you?” he demanded. “What yo u want with me?”

  “No trouble. I came to talk business.”

  “I got no business with anybody.”

  “You’ve business with me. I’m Matt Sabre. I’ve had a run-in with Jim Pinder and told off Maclaren when he tol d me to leave. I’ve taken a beating from Morgan Park.”

  Ball chuckled. “You say you want no trouble with me , but from what you say, you’ve had it with everybody else!”

  He turned at my word, and I holstered my gun. He stepped back far enough to see the boot, and then he grinned.

  “Good trick. I’ll not bite on that one again. What you want?”

  Pulling on my boot and retrieving my hat, I told him.

  “I’ve no money. I’m a fighting man and a sucker for the toug h side of any scrap. When I rode into Hattan’s I figured o n trouble, but when I saw Olga Maclaren I decided to stay an d marry her, I’ve told her so.

  “No wonder Park beat vou. He’s run off the local lads.”

  He studied one curiously. “What did she say?”

  “Very little, and when I told her I was coining back t o face Park again, she thought I was loudmouthed.”

  “Aim to try him again?”

  “I’m going to whip him. But that’s not all. I plan to sta y in this country, and there’s only one ranch in this countr y want or would have.”

  Ball’s lips thinned. “This one?”

  “It’s the best, and anybody who owns it stands in th e middle of trouble. I’d be mighty uncomfortable anywher e else.”

  “What you aim to do about me? This here’s my ranch.”

  “Let’s walk up to your place and talk it over.”

  “We’ll talk here.” Ball’s hands were on his hips, and I h ad no doubt he’d go for a gun if I made a wrong move.

  “Speak your piece.”

  “All right, here it is. You’re buckin’ a stacked deck.

  Gamblers are offerin’ thirty to one you won’t last thirty days.

  Both Maclaren and Pinder are out to get you. What I want i s a fighting, working partnership. Or you sell out and I’ll pa y you when I can. I’ll take over the fight.”

  He nodded toward the house. ”‘Come on up. We’ll tal k this over.”

  Two hours later the deal was ironed out. He could no t stay awake every night. He could not work and guard hi s stock. He could not go to town for supplies. Together w e could do all of it.

  “You’ll be lucky if you last a week,” he told me. “When they find out, they’ll be fit to be tied.”

  “They won’t find out right away. First I’ll buy supplie s and ammunition and get back here.”

  “Good idea. But leave Morgan Park alone. He’s as hand y with a gun as with his fists.”

  The Two Bar controlled most of Cottonwood Wash an d on its eastern side opened into the desert wilderness wit h only occasional patches of grass and much desert growth.

  Maclaren’s Bar M and Pinder s CP bordered the ranch on th e west, with Maclaren’s range extending to the desert land i n one portion, but largely west of the Two Bar.

  Both ranches had pushed the Two Bar cattle back, usurping the range for their own use. In the process of bein g pushed north, most of the Two Bar calves had vanishe d under Bar M or CP brands. “Mostly the CP,” Ball advised.

  “Them Pinders are poison mean. Rollie rode with the Jame s boys a few times, and both of them were with Quantrill. Jim’s a fast gun, but nothin’ to compare with Rollie.”

  At daylight, with three unbranded mules to carry th e supplies, I started for Hattan’s, circling around to hit the trai l on the side away from the Two Bar. The town was quie t enough, and the day warm and still. As I loaded the supplie s I was sweating. The sweat trickled into my eyes and my sid e pained me. My face was still puffed, but both my eves wer e now open. Leading my mules out of town, I concealed the m in some brush with plenty of grass and then returned t o Mother O’Hara’s.

  Key Chapin and Canaval were there, and Canaval looke d up at me. “Had trouble?” he asked. “That job at the Bar M i s still open.”

  “Thanks. I’m going to run my own outfit.” Foolish thoug h it was; I said it. Olga had come in the door behind me, he r perfume told me who it was, and even without it somethin g in my blood would have told me. From that day on she wa s never to be close to me without my knowledge. It wa s something deep and exciting that was between us.

  “Your own outfit?” They were surprised. “You’re turnin g nester?”

  “No. Ranching.” Turning, I swept off my hat and indicated the seat beside mine. “Miss Maclaren? May I have th e pleasure?”

  Her green eyes were level and measuring. She hesitate d and then shook her head. Walking around the table sh e seated herself beside Canaval.

  Chapin was puzzled. “You’re ranching? If there’s an y open range around here, I don’t know of it.”

  “It’s a place over east of here,” I replied lightly, “th e Two Bar.”

  “What about the Two Bar?” Rud Maclaren had come in.

  He stood cold and solid, staring down at me.

  Olga glanced up at her father, some irony in her eyes.

  “Mr. Sabre was telling us that he is ranching—on the Tw o Bar. -

  “What?” Glasses and cups jumped at his voice, and Ma O’Hara hurried in from her kitchen, rolling pin in hand.

  “That’s right.” I was enjoying it. “I’ve a working partnership with Ball. He needed help and I didn’t want to leav e despite all the invitations I was getting.” Then I added, “A m an dislikes being far from the girl he’s to marry.”

  “What’s that?” Maclaren demanded, his eyes puzzled.

  “Why, Father!” Olga’s eyes widened. “Haven’t you heard?

  The whole town is talking of it! Mr. Sabre has said he is goin g to marry me!”

  “I’ll see him in hell first!” Maclaren replied flatly. “Youn g man, you stop using my daughter’s name, or you’ll face me.”

  “No one,” I said quietly, “has more respect for you r daughter’s name than I. It’s true that I’ve said she was to b e my wife. That is not disrespectful, and it’s certainly true. A s for facing you, I’d rather not. I’d like to keep peace with m y future father-in-law.”

  Canav
al chuckled, and even Olga seemed amused. Ke y Chapin looked up at Rud. “One aspect of this may hav e escaped you. Sabre is now a partner of Ball. Why not make i t easy for Sabre to stay on and then buy him out?”

  Maclaren’s head lifted as he absorbed the idea. He looke d at Sabre with new interest. “We might do business, youn g man.

  “We might,” I replied, “but not under threats. Nor do I i ntend to sell out my partner. Nor did I take the partnershi p with any idea of selling out. Tomorrow or the next day I shal l choose a building site. Also, I expect to restock the Two Ba r range.

  “All of which brings me to the point of this discussion. I t has come to my attention that the Bar M cattle are trespassing on Two Bar range. You have just one week to remov e them. The same goes for the CP. You’ve been told and yo u understand. I hope we’ll have no further trouble.”

  Maclaren’s face purpled with fury. Before he could fin d words to reply, I was on my feet. “It’s been nice seeing you,”

  I told Olga. “If you care to help plan your future home, wh y don’t you ride over?”

  With that I stepped out the door before Maclaren coul d speak. Circling the building, I headed for my horse.

  Pinder’s black-haired man was standing there with a gu n in his hand. Hatred glared from his eyes. “Figured yo u pulled a smart one, hey?” he sneered. “Now I’ll kill you!”

  His finger started to whiten with pressure, and I hurle d myself aside and palmed my gun. Even before I could think , my gun jarred in my hand. Once! Twice!

  Blacky’s bullet had torn my shirt collar and left a trace o f blood on my neck. Blacky stared at me and then lifted to hi s toes and fell, measuring his length upon the hard ground.

  Men rushed from the buildings, crowding around. “See n it!” one man explained quietly. “Blacky laid for him with a drawed gun.”

  Canaval was among the men. He looked at me with cool , attentive gaze. “A drawn gun? That was fast, man.”

  Ball was at the gate when I arrived. -Trouble?” he aske d quickly.

  My account was brief.

  “Well, one less for later,” said Ball. “If it had to b e anybody it’s better it was Blacky, but now the Pinders will b e after you.”

  “Where does Morgan Park stand?” I asked. “And wha t about Key Chapin?”

  “Park?” Ball said. “He’s fixin’ to marry the Maclaren girl.

  That’s where his bread’s buttered. He’s got him a ranch o n the Arizona line, but he don’t stay there much. Chapi n publishes the Rider’s Voice, a better newspaper than you’d expect in this country. He’s also a lawyer, plays a good han d of poker, an’ never carries a gun. If anybody isn’t takin’ s ides, it’s him.”

  Mostly I considered the cattle situation. Our calves ha d been rustled by the large outfits, and if we were to prospe r we must get rid of the stock we now had and get some youn g stuff. Our cattle would never be in better shape and woul d get older and tougher. Now was the time to sell. A drive wa s impossible, for two of us couldn’t be away at once, an d nobody wanted any part of a job with the Two Bar. Ball wa s frankly discouraged. “No use, Matt. They got us bottled up.

  We’re through whenever they want to take us.-

  An idea occurred to me. “Bv the way, when I was driftin g down around Organ Rock the other day, I spotted an outfi t down there in the hills. Know ‘em?”

  Ball’s head came up sharply. “Should have warned you.

  Stay away. That’s the . Benaras place, the B Bar B brand.

  There’s six in the family that I know of, an’ they have n o truck with anybody. Dead shots, all of ‘em. Few years bac k some rustlers run off some of their stock. Nobody heard n o more about it until Sheriff Will Tharp was back in the badlands east of here. He hadn’t seen hide nor hair of man no r beast for miles when suddenly he comes on six skeleton s hanging from a rock tower.-

  “Skeletons?”

  Ball took the pipe from his mouth and spat. “Six of ‘em, an’ a sign hung to ‘em readin. ‘They rustled B Bar B cows.’

  Nothin’ more.”

  But quite enough! The Benaras outfit had been let strictl y alone after that. Nevertheless, an idea was in fully mind, an d the very next morning I saddled up and drifted south.

  It was wild and lonely country, furrowed and eroded b y thousands of years of sun, wind, and rain, a country tumble d and broken as if by an insane giant. There were miles of raw , unfleshed land with only occasional spots of green to break it s everlasting reds, pinks, and whites. Like an oasis, ther e appeared a sudden cluster of trees, green fields, and fat , drifting cattle. “Whoever these folks are, Buck,” I commente d to my horse, “they work hard.”

  The click of a drawn-back hammer froze Buck in hi s tracks, and carefully I kept my hands on the saddle horn.

  “coin’ somewhere, stranger?” Nobody was in sight amon g the boulders at the edge of the field.

  “Yes. I’m looking for the boss of the B Bar B.-

  “What might you want with him?”

  “Business talk. I’m friendly.”

  The chuckle was dry. “Ever see a man covered by tw o Spencers that wasn’t friendly?”

  The next was a girl’s voice. “Who you ridin’ for?”

  “I’m Matt Sabre, half owner of the Two Bar, Ball’s outfit.”

  “You mean that old coot took a partner? You could b e lyin’.”

  ‘Do I see the boss?”

  “I reckon.- A tall boy of eighteen stepped from th e rocks. Lean and drawn, his hatchet face looked tough an d wise. He carried his Spencer as if it was part of him. He motioned with his head.

  The old man of the tribe was standing in front of a hous e built like a fort. Tall as his son, he was straight as a lodgepol e pine. He looked me up and down and then said. “Get down a n’ set.”

  A stout, motherly woman put out some cups and poure d coffee. Explaining who I was, I said, “We’ve some fat stoc k about ready to drive. I’d like to make a swap for some of you r young stuff. We can’t make a drive, don’t dare even leave th e place or they’d steal it from us. Our stock is in good shape , but all our young stuff has been rustled.”

  “You’re talkin’.” He studied me from under shaggy brows.

  He looked like a patriarch right out of the Bible, a hard-b itten old man of the tribe who knew his own mind and ho w to make it stick. He listened as I explained our setup and ou r plans. Finally, he nodded. “All right, Sabre. We’ll swap. My boys will help you drive ‘em back here.”

  “No need for that. Once started down the canyons I’l l need no help. No use you getting involved in this fight.-

  He turned his fierce blue eyes on me. I’m buyin’ cows,” h e said grimly. “Anybody who wants trouble over that, le t ‘em start it!”

  “Now, Paw!” Mother Benaras smiled at me. “Paw figure s he’s still a-feudin’.”

  Old Bob Benaras knocked out his pipe on the hearth.

  “We’re beholden to no man, nor will we backwater for an y man. Nick, roust out an’ get Zeb, then saddle up an’ rid e with this man. You ride to this man’s orders. Start no trouble , but back up for nobody. Understand?”

  He looked around at me. “You’ll eat first. Maw, set u p the table. We’ve a guest in the house.” He looked searchingly at me. “Had any trouble with Jim Pinder yet?”

  It made a short tale; then I added, “Blacky braced me i n town a few days ago. Laid for me with a drawn gun.”

  Benaras stared at me, and the boys exchanged looks. Th e old man tamped tobacco into his pipe. “He had it comin’.

  Jolly had trouble with that one. Figured soon or late he’d have to kill him. Glad you done it.”

  All the way back to the Two Bar we watched the countr y warily, but it was not until we were coming up to the gat e that anyone was sighted. Two riders were on the lip of th e wash, staring at us through a glass. We passed through th e gate and started up the trail. There was no challenge. Nic k said suddenly, “I smell smoke!”

  Fear went th
rough me like an electric shock. Slappin g the spurs to my tired buckskin, I put the horse up the trail a t a dead run, Nick and Zeb right behind me. Turning the ben d in the steep trail, I heard the crackle of flames and saw th e ruins of the house!

  All was in ruins, the barn gone, the house a sagging , blazing heap. Leaving my horse on the run I dashed aroun d the house. “Ball!” I yelled. “Ball!” And above the crackle o f flames, I heard a cry.

  He was back in a niche of rock near the spring. How h e had lived this long I could not guess. His clothes wer e charred and it was obvious he had somehow crawled, wounded , from the burning house. He had been fairly riddled wit h bullets.

  His fierce old eyes were pleading. “Don’t let ‘em ge t … get the place. Yours … it’s yours now.” His eyes went to Nick and Zeb. “You’re witnesses … I leave it to him.

  Never to sell … never to give up!”

  “Who was it?” For the first time in my life I reall y wanted to kill. Although I had known this old man for only a few days I had come to feel affection for him and respect.

  Now he was dying, shot down and left for dead in a blazin g house.

  “Pinder!” His voice was hoarse. “Jim an’ Rollie. Rollie , he … he was dressed like you. Never had no chance.

  Fun-funny thing. I … I thought I saw … Park.”

  “Morgan Park?” I was incredulous. “With the Pinders?”

  His lips stirred, but he died forming the words. When I g ot up, there was in me such hatred as I had never believe d was possible. “Everyone of them!” I said. “I’ll kill every ma n of them for this!”

  “Amen!” Zeb and Nick spoke as one. “He was a good ol d man. Pappy liked him.”

  “Did you hear him say Morgan Park was with th e Pinders?”

  “Sounded like it,” Zeb admitted, “but it ain’t reasonable.

  He’s thick with the Maclarens. Couldn’t have been him.”

  Zeb was probably right. The light had been bad, an d Ball had been wounded. He could have made a mistake.

  The stars came out, and night moved in over the hill s and gathered black and rich in the canyons. Standing there i n the darkness, we could smell the smoke from the burne d house and see occasional sparks and flickers of tiny flame s among the charred timbers. A ranch had been given me, bu t I had lost a friend. The road before me stretched dark an d long, a road I must walk alone, gun in hand.