Ralph Compton - Bullet for a Bad Man

There was a tremendous thud .

‘‘What the hell!’’ Dan recovered and stared at the bale of hay that had missed his head by a few inches. Then he jerked his head toward the hay loft above and dropped his hand to his revolver. ‘‘Who’s up there?’’

No one answered.

Dan stepped to the ladder. His shoulder was throbbing and it throbbed worse as he climbed, but it wasn’t broken as near as he could tell. He reached the loft and peered over and for the second time said, ‘‘What the hell?’’

Dozens of bales were neatly stacked, as always, but otherwise the loft was empty.

Dan climbed all the way. Drawing his Colt, he went the entire lengh of the loft, searching among the bales, but did not find a soul. Perplexed, he went back to the ladder. As he was standing there trying to make sense of how the bale fell on him, he noticed that the hay loft door was open. He went over. The rope to the winch was down. Ordinarily, it was kept coiled on the loft until the winch was put into use.

Dan poked his head out. Several punchers were moving about, and over at the ranch house a servant was hanging out newly washed clothes. He saw no one who should not be there. He saw no one slinking from the stable.

‘‘Damn it,’’ Dan said. He pulled up the rope, closed the loft door and descended. His shoulder stayed sore, but it didn’t pain him when he moved his arm. Soon he had the dun saddled, and rode out of the stable.

The glare of the morning sun caused Dan to squint. He trotted to the south, still mulling the problem of the bale. Once he was clear of the buildings and on the open range, he slowed to a walk.

For over an hour Dan checked on cattle and talked to the hands he ran into. One puncher mentioned how he had liked Dan’s talk at breakfast, and he agreed with Dan that the jinx business was so much nonsense.

Dan was happy to hear it. They parted company, and Dan drifted in the general direction of the ranch buildings. He passed a knot of cattle and had just brought the dun to a gallop when the world was yanked out from under him.

It happened without warning. One moment Dan was tall in the saddle, riding hard. The next, he and his saddle were pitched headlong to the hard earth. He threw up his arms and managed to hit on his shoulder and roll. But it was the same shoulder the bale fell on, and when he sat up he could barely move his arm.

Next to him lay his saddle and saddle blanket. Dumbfounded, Dan pushed to his knees and rolled the saddle onto its side. The cinch was busted. It had not come undone; it was split clean through. The edges were frayed, as they should be if it broke and wasn’t cut.

Even so, Dan bent lower. He ran a finger over the break. It was hard to tell, but he was willing to swear that someone had cut the cinch just enough to ensure that it would come apart on him when he rode hard.

‘‘First the bale. Now this.’’ Dan stood and brushed at his clothes. Thankfully his hat had stayed on and his Colt was still in his holster.

The dun came back to see what was going on. Dan patted it, then shucked his rifle from the saddle scabbard, transferred his saddlebags to the dun and climbed on bareback.

The first puncher Dan came on, he sent the man to fetch his saddle and blanket. He also instructed him not to say anything. Word of the busted cinch would only fuel the jinx talk.

Dan glowered as he neared the buildings. He did not reply to a hail from a cowboy and he did not return a wave from the blacksmith. Instead of going to the stable, he rode to the house and dismounted with the sharp movements of a man close to losing his temper. He climbed the steps and knocked on the front door.

A servant answered. Dan was admitted and waited with his hat in hand. It was several minutes before Epp Scott came down the hall.

‘‘Dan. Good to see you again. What can I do for you?’’

‘‘You can stop trying to kill me.’’

Epp stopped and glanced behind him as if to make sure none of the servants had heard. Putting a hand on Dan’s shoulder, Epp opened the front door and ushered him out on the porch. Only after Epp had closed the door did he say, ‘‘What is this nonsense about killing you?’’

‘‘You have tried twice since daybreak. If there is a third time I will come for you with my revolver out.’’

‘‘Have you been drinking?’’

‘‘Don’t you dare,’’ Dan said. ‘‘I rarely touch liquor and you know it. So does everyone else. Try to spread a rumor that I have turned into a drunk and no one will believe you.’’

‘‘Why else would you talk so crazy?’’

‘‘The barrens,’’ Dan said.

‘‘What about them?’’

‘‘I know about Blin Hanks. I know about the stolen cattle.’’ Dan allowed himself a grim smile. ‘‘I went there. Snuck right in and right out and your rustler friends never caught on.’’

‘‘I don’t have the slightest idea what you are talking about.’’

‘‘Pretend if you want but it will not fool me.’’

Epp motioned toward the bunkhouse. ‘‘If all this is true, why haven’t you told the men? Why keep it to yourself?’’

‘‘Are you complaining? Would you rather I did?’’

Epp did not reply.

‘‘I have not told them yet because it will crush them. On top of all that has happened, to find out you are a rustler will be the last straw. No puncher worth his salt will ride for a brand-blotting outfit. They will pack their war bags and go. Word will spread, and that will be the end of the Circle V.’’

‘‘Your devotion to the ranch is a trait I have always admired.’’

‘‘Go to hell.’’

Epp straightened. ‘‘I will overlook that because you are upset. You have jumped to conclusions and accused me falsely, and I forgive that too.’’

‘‘Go to hell twice over.’’

‘‘Think for a minute. Here I am, the owner of one of the biggest and best spreads in the territory, with plenty of cattle and plenty of money. Why would I jeopardize all that by rustling?’’

‘‘Some people never get enough. No matter how much they have, they always want more.’’

‘‘Let’s look at this another way,’’ Epp said. ‘‘Suppose for a minute you are wrong. Suppose that whatever filled your head with this nonsense is not what you think it is. For instance, Blin Hanks. Who is he?’’

‘‘You know damn well who he is. He paid you a visit.’’

‘‘The man who owns the cattle in the barrens? I told you before. His name is Edgar, not Blin. At least, that is what he told me.’’

Some of Dan’s conviction evaporated. ‘‘He said his name was Edgar?’’

Epp nodded. ‘‘I had no reason to doubt him. He paid in advance for the use of the barrens and gave his word he would only stay a few days.’’

‘‘I suppose he could have lied.’’

‘‘Now you have been out to the barrens and you say the cows are rustled? If that is the case, then we must call in the law. I will not have the Circle V’s reputation tarnished.’’

‘‘And you are serious?’’

‘‘Damn it, Dan. How could you think so poorly of me? You, of all people. The one man I count on the most. The man who keeps this ranch running smoothly. The man who was a good friend to my father and my mother, and who I thought was a friend to me. Was I wrong? Was I mistaken about you? Have I trusted you all these years and you have not trusted me?’’

‘‘I don’t know what to say.’’

‘‘Then I will say it for both of us. We need to clear the air. We should talk this out over supper tonight. Come about eight. I know that is late but I have a lot to do today and it can’t be put off. What do you say?’’

‘‘I reckon that’s best.’’

‘‘Thank you.’’ Epp clapped Dan on the shoulder. Fortunately, it was Dan’s good shoulder. ‘‘Eight o’clock it is. I can’t tell you how happy you have made me. The last thing I want is to lose your confidence.’’