Ernest Haycox - The Greatest Westerns of Ernest Haycox

"Only when I tell you," droned Redmain, and the narrow face moved with anger. "I say you stick or you take the consequences. Make up your mind here and now. I've got a good medicine for herd jumpers like you. Well, what is it to be?"

"I ain't m'self," muttered Dann. "I feel bad, I feel awful. Don't haze me around like that. Can't a man blow off steam once in a while?"

Redmain laughed contemptuously. "I'm glad we have settled it. And I want you to understand this once and for all—never cross Dave Denver, never make a play for him unless I give you orders on the subject. What made you think your draw was as fast as his, anyhow? Why, you fool, he can beat any man's bullet in this country except mine. You'd be dead now if Cal Steele hadn't stopped your play. And what were you doing in Sundown tonight? I didn't tell you to be there."

"Just rode over from the Wells to have a little fun," mumbled Dann, not meeting Red-main's glance.

"You lie," retorted the chief coolly. "You had some nutty idea in your head. Trying to be tough on your own account. If you didn't have my name standing behind you, Dann, somebody would have put a bullet in that clumsy body of yours long ago. I'll tolerate no more foolishness!"

Dann took the lashing in silence; the other two stared at the floor. Redmain turned to one of them impatiently. "The job done, Gus?"

"Yeah," said Gus. "We took twenty cows and calves, run 'em acrost the bridge and stopped near the road. Now what?"

Redmain considered it briefly. "As soon as the travel from Sundown slacks off, put the stuff over the road in a hurry and drive into Tom's Hole. Dann, you go along with the bunch and camp with them. Don't come back to the Wells until I send for you. Tomorrow I want the calves branded and the cows blotted. Take your time and do a good job."

"What brand yuh goin' to use this time?"

"Same we've been using lately." Redmain rolled a cigarette, lips compressing. A flare of slight excitement moved across his eyes. "So far, I have played a fifty-fifty game. Half crooked and half honest. It's no good. I'm out for blood. You take one of those cows and switch the brand to Denver's D Slash. Make a bunglin' amateur job of it that anybody could see. Tomorrow night drive it into Denver's range and leave it."

"Plantin' somethin' on him, huh?" was Dann's exclamation.

Voices rose outside the cabin. Redmain warned the others. "Keep your mouths shut about this." Then the door opened, and another man entered, smiling sleepily.

It was Cal Steele. "You're late," said Redmain.

"What of it?" drawled Steele. "I might have been still later. I might not have come at all."

"In our business we've got to move fast," grunted Redmain.

"So you ascribe your success in life to the fact you are always punctual," jeered Steele.

"Ten minutes," Redmain reminded him grimly, "may make the difference of our bein' alive or hung. Don't forget that."

"Is it so important to be alive?" countered Steele wearily. He pointed his finger at Dann and spoke with an angry accent. "As for you, my friend, you nearly got your cursed head beat off, and I wish Dave had finished the job. You'll have to get up earlier to make a sucker out of that boy. What is more, if you had plugged him I would have plugged you. I've said before I won't stand for this crowd monkeyin' with Dave Denver. He is my best friend. Though," and Steele turned morosely unpleasant, "he wouldn't be if he knew what a double-faced misfit I really am."

"So you find friendship begins to sour?" said Redmain.

"A man such as myself deserves no friends," Steele muttered.

"Neither deserves them nor has them," replied Redmain. "I made the same discovery tonight, Cal. So what does that leave us? Why, kick all the fine sentiment overboard and be what we were meant to be."

Steele frowned. "The logical outcome of that belief is published notoriety and sooner or later a posse on our heels. And a cottonwood tree for a springboard."

"They can't beat me. They've got nothing definite on me. Nor on you."

"Nothing is secret forever," murmured Steele. "Public notoriety will do for you or Dann, but I've got enough left in me to need decent friends. Oh, well—what is the situation now?"

"We took some beef tonight. It'll be changed over to your brand tomorrow and be kept hidden until the new burns are healed. Then we'll drive it to your range. Meanwhile I've got about thirty head ready for you now. They've gone through the aging process for two months. Tomorrow night I'll have them thrown into your upper range. Better see to it all your riders are elsewhere."

"Be careful about that brand blotting," warned Steele. "I want no slips."

"Gus is an expert," said Redmain. "You couldn't tell the difference with a razor and a microscope. You're safe. Better ship early this year. I need money."

"Whose stuff did you take tonight?"

"Fee's," returned Redmain. "Our last operation over beyond Sky Peak. We're going to work this side durin' the year. That Englishman don't know anything. I'm going to milk him dry."

"Dirty business," grunted Steele. "I like the fellow."

"Something you ought to've thought of a long time ago," retorted Redmain. "No chance to change now. You've got your hands soiled."

"I think I know that better than you do," said Steele and rose to leave. "You've heard about the Association going in for vigilantes with Leverage at the head of 'em?"

Redmain laughed. "He couldn't catch a cold. I'll run him ragged. The poor devil doesn't know—" Then he caught himself. The two men exchanged significant glances. Steele said:

"You're a careful cuss, and you've got brains. Don't overplay your hand."

Redmain closed one fist and spoke with a suppressed exultance. "I am going the limit, Steele!"

"Be careful. And leave Denver strictly alone. I'll string along with you up to that point. Then I draw out. I won't be a party to any doublecross of Dave." Steele went out. Redmain stared at the other men for a long interval.

"Get going, all of you. And keep your mouths shut."

They departed, leaving him alone by the stove, wrapped in his dark thoughts. One by one he explored the alleys of opportunity before him; man by man he considered his outfit, the weak and the strong, the faithful and the treacherous. And from there he began to calculate the power of those ranged against him, his own individual strength set beside that of other individuals and his own outfit matched with the vigilantes. Never before had he let his mind run free as tonight, and never before had he caught so clear a view of the mastery that might be his if he were only bold enough to strike quickly and hard. It flushed him, it fed the latent ambition within him. Out of all this emerged his conclusions. "Denver I shall some day have to meet. Steele will never approve of what I aim to do. He must go down. Soon."

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Occasionally the women of the district answered the vagrant call of social impulse, and this afternoon a dozen of them were informally gathered together in the shade of the long galleried Leverage porch. The sun, dipping westward, began to desert the emerald ridges but still made a bright yellow glare in the open prairie that rolled away from the foothills into the dazzling distance. It was high time to pack up and go, but the ladies lingered, some reluctant to depart, some waiting for the men folk to come after them.

"Men," stated Mrs. Jim Coldfoot, biting off her thread, "are all the same and none of 'em too good. When I look about Yellow Hill and consider the specimens wearing pants I'm plumb reminded of a rummage counter with all the good cloth already took."

The circle smiled, knowing Mrs. Jim Coldfoot well. Her heart was sound, but her inquisitive mind pried into all things, her ears missed nothing, and her tongue readily dealt in scandal.