Law of the Range

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Law of the Range Page 13

by Hank Madison


  “I’m touched by their loyalty,” Harlan said slowly. “But they know as well as you do that the herd comes first.”

  “That’s right, so we’re putting the whole bunch of them to graze on Aggie’s range while we try to pick up signs of the ones that got runned off.”

  “We’re likely to lose all of them that way,” Harlan protested. “I told you to head for Dodge, Chuck.”

  “So you did, but your old man would skin me if I went back with cattle money and not you. He don’t give a damn for twenty herds when you’re involved. I did what I figured would please your pa, and that’s straight.”

  “Sure you did,” Harlan acknowledged. He grinned thinly, but his face sobered as he looked at the intent girl. “Aggie, I guess we got to accept that your brother was responsible for making that raid on my herd. If we’re gonna find those critturs again we’re gonna need your help. Have you got any idea where your brother might be hiding out?”

  “No.” He heard her sharp intake of breath. “I’d tell you if I did, Steve. Will has had too many chances. He’s not a child that he doesn’t know right from wrong. He’s done enough wrong things in his life to have learnt the difference by now. I’ll help you look for your cows, and if we find Will I’ll help take him in for the law.”

  “What law?” Chuck Mallett demanded. “You told me that the sheriff was on Grove’s side and the deputy was rooting for Clant Carter.”

  “That deputy is out of a job right now,” Harlan said. “Carter is gone and so is Filby. But what about Grove? From what I’ve heard, he’s the biggest crook of them all. He started all this years ago.”

  “There ain’t much we can do about him without making a load of trouble for ourselves,” Mallett said slowly. “He’s got the law on his side. What can we do about that?”

  “I’ll show you if I come up against that sheriff,” Harlan told him. “There’s only one way to deal with a crooked lawman.”

  “The man who does it usually finishes up outside the law, if he gets away with it,” the cowboy retorted. “You don’t want that, Steve.”

  “We’re gonna clean up this country before we make a start back to Texas,” Harlan said doggedly. “I’m gonna fix it so that the next time we show up there won’t be any trouble.”

  Aggie got up and went to the camp-fire, to return some moments later with some food on a plate. Harlan took it from her and ate hungrily. He sighed heavily when he had finished. Aggie fetched him some coffee, and Chuck Mallett got up to move off.

  “What are you gonna do, Chuck?” Harlan demanded.

  “Take a ride around the herd. I’d better keep a close watch tonight.”

  “Okay. I’ll be up and taking a turn later.”

  Aggie protested at that, and Harlan grinned. He felt like lying between his blankets for at least a week, but the herd came first, and he would have to be around in case trouble came. He felt better after the meal, and the coffee went down well. He saw one or two of the outfit moving around the fire. The sounds of the cow camp came to his ears, and he gritted his teeth when he thought of Sim Horn and the other two men they had lost. Will Payne had taken away their lives, had robbed them of many years of this, and he shook his head slowly. He hoped in his heart that they wouldn’t meet up with the girl’s brother. If he had any sense, the young fool would pull right out of the country until all this had blown over, but he didn’t think that would happen. From what he had heard, Will Payne was bull-headed and raw.

  The camp settled down later, and in the distance Harlan could hear a cowboy singing to the herd. The mournful voice made him feel sad, and he looked at the girl, who had settled down under a blanket only feet away from him. He didn’t think she was asleep, and wondered at her thoughts, although he could guess.

  He tried to sleep but his thoughts were too occupied to permit him to rest. He listened to the night noises, trying to will himself to sleep, but it was no good. He considered getting up and taking a turn around the herd, but his body felt listless, as if he had been drugged. Even his great resources of strength and energy had been drained. He lay on his back, staring up at the stars, and the cool breeze touched his stubbled face. He wondered where it would all end.

  A faint drumming sound began to make itself heard, and he frowned. Not more thunder and rain, he hoped. Then he stiffened and pushed himself up on one elbow, his eyes narrowing as he strained his ears to pick up the ominous sound. A gun crashed somewhere in the night, and he threw aside his blanket and levered himself up from the ground. He grabbed for his gunbelt and quickly buckled it on, ears strained, and he could hear voices shouting and more shots echoing harshly.

  The camp came quickly alive, and Harlan started for the remuda. Aggie appeared at his elbow, and he shouted at her as he heaved a saddle on a horse.

  “Aggie, you stay out of this,” he snapped. “It’s gonna be mighty dangerous.”

  “It may be my brother and our crew,” she replied. “I got to come along.”

  Four other men came for their horses, all cursing bitterly. Harlan turned his head as he swung into leather, and heard more shooting. The outriders had sighted something, and that was a fact. He wondered if the night-hawks with the herd could hold it in the draw. If the cattle started running again they would be in for bad trouble.

  He rode out for the sound of the disturbance, galloping hard, wincing as the jolting saddle found out his aches and pains. Aggie came up on his left, and he shook his head. He was about to say something to her when fresh shooting broke out in the opposite direction, and he hauled his mount to a halt and stared grimly into the darkness. Someone was causing a diversion, he thought, but on which side? He looked around quickly, and picked out the orange flashes of Colt-fire.

  “Two of you head in that direction,” he shouted at the four riders coming up. “But be ready to get to the herd if they look like stampeding. You other two come with me.”

  He set in his spurs again and rode fast towards the shooting that had started first. It sounded like a big fight warming up, and he cursed again and again through his teeth. If he ever got any part of this herd to Dodge then he was going to be very lucky.

  A rider appeared on his left and came up fast, and Harlan lifted his gun and covered the approaching figure. But he held his fire. He recognised Chuck Mallett, and reined up. The girl pulled in at his side.

  “What is it, Chuck?” he called.

  “Two bunches of riders closing in on us,” the cowboy reported. “They’re coming in from two sides. But they didn’t figure that we had the herd in the draw. We’re holding them. I think we’ll pull it off so long as you can keep the rustlers from reaching us. We’ve closed the mouth of the draw as best we can. Do what you can about those guys out there.”

  “Leave it to us,” Harlan said. “You stick with the cattle, Chuck.”

  “Just my luck,” the cowboy replied, turning his mount and spurring back towards the herd.

  Harlan went on. He pushed the horse to its limit, and came suddenly upon three riderless mounts standing with trailing reins. Red and orange gun-flashes marked the positions of the owners, and he guessed that these were some of his men. Shots were coming in from a distance, and Harlan slid out of his saddle. He turned to see that Aggie was hunting cover, then started forward to where his three cowboys were crouching. He dropped flat and bellied in close. A big figure turned to cover him, and he called out his identity.

  “Glad to see you, boss,” replied Billy Wayne. “But I figure that you’ve come to the wrong place. There are only a few of them here, and they ain’t tried to get past us. They’re hoping to occupy us while the rest of them sneak in from another direction.”

  “Yeah. I heard some shooting from the other side. Do you think you can handle this, Billy?”

  “Just leave it to us,” the big cowboy growled. “We’ll take out after them in a minute.”

  “Don’t do that,” Harlan said quickly. “We’ve got to protect the herd, and perhaps they’d like you to chase after them. Y
ou’d better fall back towards that draw a little, then hold fast. I’ll take the others back and see what’s happening on the other side. If they mean to get in at us they’ll come with a rush.”

  “Good. I’m just praying that they’ll try it,” Wayne said.

  Harlan eased backwards and then got to his feet. He heard several slugs whine over his head, but it was poor shooting and bad light, and he reached his horse without trouble. Aggie appeared out of the shadows, closely followed by the two cowboys.

  “What’s happening?” she demanded. “Did you get a look at those men doing the shooting?”

  “No. They’re too far out. They’re just trying to draw our strength. We’d better get back to the herd and wait for developments. Billy Wayne is with two others out here. I think they can handle it.”

  “Let me try to see who’s out there,” Aggie said. “If it is my brother I might be able to get him to pull out.”

  “It’s gone too far for that,” Harlan replied. “If your brother is out there, Aggie, he’s gonna have to take his chance.”

  “But I know the whole crew with him,” she said anxiously. “I might be able to talk them into pulling out.”

  “It’s not worth the risk,” he told her firmly. “We’ve got the herd pinned in a draw, so there ain’t much danger of a stampede. If those rustlers close in we’ll have to fight. The time for talking is past.”

  “Where’s Grove, do you think?” she demanded. “Maybe this is some of his work.”

  “Grove hasn’t stolen a cow in years,” Harlan told her. They swung into their saddles and started back through the darkness. “He’s the one stopping the others from rustling.”

  “Perhaps he’s doing this to make it seem that Will is doing it,” she said.

  That thought stopped Harlan, and he drew a quick breath. Perhaps there was something in what she said. And where was the sheriff and those outlaws forming the posse? Where had Jem Grove gone off to when he left them at the girl’s place the previous night?

  Harlan pushed his horse along again. There was a lot of shooting developing ahead, on the far side of the draw where the cattle were being held. It looked as if the attack was coming from that direction. He reached the mouth of the draw and reined in. Three cowboys were sitting their horses there, trying to soothe the uneasy, restless cattle. Chuck Mallett appeared, moving his horse in beside Harlan.

  “Things ain’t too good,” he announced. “Some of the steers are trying to get up the sides of the draw. It will only need one of them to succeed and we’ll lose the rest of them.”

  “Put riders on top, one each side,” Harlan advised. “If they ride back and forth along the top it might help.”

  “They’ll be easy targets,” Mallett protested. “There’s a lot of lead coming over. But I’ll take one side myself.”

  One of the punchers who had been riding along with Harlan pushed his mount forward. “I’ll go up the other side,” he volunteered.

  “Good man.” Harlan started away towards the shooting. “Do what you can here, Chuck,” he flung back over his shoulder.

  Aggie followed him, and came up alongside. They rode fast through the night, and Harlan glanced at her, breathing heavily. She was in danger here. He wouldn’t be able to fight to the best of his ability if he had to keep an eye open for her. He caught a glitter of starlight shining on a gun in her hand, and shook his head. She certainly meant to back him all the way.

  They came up with a bunch of horses, and a cowboy called out a challenge. Harlan replied quickly as he slid out of his saddle. He went forward, palming his gun, and dropped to one knee in the brush. Red pinpoints of fire were winking and spurting from various positions ahead, and four cowboys were replying to them. Aggie came up to Harlan’s elbow and he turned almost angrily to warn her to keep low.

  “Let me call out to them,” she said earnestly. “If it is my brother and he hears me he might call this off.”

  “It might work,” he replied, but in the back of his mind was the hope that it wasn’t Will Payne out there. He turned to the nearest cowboy and called for a ceasefire. The guns shut down immediately, but the rustlers continued to shoot at them. Harlan waited a moment, then drew a deep breath and called loudly: “Hey, you men out there. Hold your fire for a moment.”

  He waited, but the shooting didn’t slacken off. Aggie pushed herself upright, and Harlan grabbed at her and jerked her back into cover.

  “Will,” she called in a shrill voice that cut through the heavy reports of gunfire. “Will, is that you out there? This is Aggie. Hold your fire.”

  The shooting faded and died away, and Harlan shook his head slowly. It looked as if Will Payne was out there. The next instant hooves pounded rapidly, and half a dozen riders came looming up out of the night. Harlan lifted his gun. It seemed to him that this was a mounted attack.

  “Don’t shoot,” Aggie screamed. “It’s my brother.”

  “Is it, hell,” Harlan rapped. “That’s Jem Grove in the lead.”

  He had recognised the outlaw’s figure, and ducked and dragged the girl down as the outlaws opened fire. His own men started to reply, and the night was shaken by the fiery reports. Harlan eased himself up again into the fight, and light flared around him as he triggered his deadly gun. He concentrated upon Jem Grove, but the outlaw boss seemed to have a charmed life. He brought his crew straight into the flaming guns of the cowboys.

  Aggie was working a Colt.38, and Harlan shook his head as, with teeth clenched, he tried to bring Grove down out of his saddle. His ears rang from the crashing shots, and he sensed rather than heard the flying lead that whined about him. He shifted his aim and brought down a rider, then went back to work on Grove, but missed the gang boss with two more shots.

  Aggie had eyes only for Grove, and she emptied her gun at the outlaw without scoring a good hit. She knew she had caught him at least once because Grove dropped one of the two guns he was holding and swayed in his saddle. But still the outlaw came on, and the thunder of the approaching horses set the ground trembling. But mounted men in the open could not hope to beat the equivalent number who were down upon the ground and in cover. Saddles emptied quickly, and, as the cowboys paused to reload, Jem Grove swung away with his two surviving men and made off into the darkness.

  Harlan heaved a sigh of relief. He reloaded, then turned to tell the girl to keep low. Then all hell broke loose at their backs, and, swinging around, Harlan saw flickering light over by the draw where the herd was being held. In the next instant the deadly thunder of stampeding hooves reached his ears.

  “The cattle are loose,” he cried. “Quick, all of you. Into your saddles and get at them. Try and turn them. Stop them running or we’re finished.”

  They went back to their horses and swung into their waiting saddles. Harlan waited for Aggie to reach his side. Then he reached out and grasped her arm.

  “Not you,” he rasped. “It’s too dangerous. For God’s sake keep out of the way.”

  There was not time for anything else. He set in his spurs and left the girl sitting on her mount, and the cowboys went with him. They rode quickly out of the path of the oncoming herd, then swooped in at the leaders, firing their guns across the wildly running beasts in an effort to force them around. If they got the leaders to circle and start the herd milling, then the stampede would be over. If they failed, then the rest of the herd would be lost.

  Harlan cursed as he spat out the dust that clogged his mouth. No one would have figured that the previous week had seen rain every day, judging by the dust rising from the beating hooves of the cattle. He reloaded his gun as he worked in close to the lead steer, then sent several shots past the animal’s ear. The fear-maddened creature whirled away from him, and he went grimly after it, repeating the procedure, and as the animal turned away he pressed it hard, with the rest of the cowboys coming up slightly to his rear, urging the leaders to turn away, firing their Colts and shouting, and waving their arms.

  They would have succeeded if the r
ustlers hadn’t come in to start another attack. Harlan heard lead screeching past him, and threw a quick glance over his shoulder. The shadows were leaping as guns hammered and flared. He heard a hoarse cry as one of his men stopped a slug and pitched out of his saddle to fall under the pounding hooves of the running steers.

  The herd broke away from their close control. The cowboys turned with a rebel yell and went for the rustlers, shooting as they closed upon the dark figures of the outlaws. Harlan stared at the running herd as he wheeled away from them. The closely packed cattle looked like a swiftly flowing river in the darkness. The thunder of their hooves was frightening. Dust rose in clouds from the tortured ground, and he heaved a bitter sigh as he turned his attention to the rustlers.

  He figured that nearly a score of men were coming in at the cowboys. The rustlers had to kill off the opposition before they could hope to get control of the herd. He reloaded his gun and charged after his men, who were heading straight into the densely packed rustlers.

  The never-ending thunder of the pounding hooves rolled across the range, sullen and all-powerful. The crashing guns cut harshly across the ominous background sound, and the flashing weapons were aiming marks for the quick-witted and speedy. Harlan started throwing lead, making sure of his targets before squeezing his trigger. His men, all tough Texas cowboys, were doing the same. They hammered forward into the rustlers, and confusion spread as they mingled.

  A gun flared in Harlan’s face as he ducked away, and he returned fire without thought. A strange voice gave vent to an agonised cry, and a saddle was emptied. His horse almost blundered into another coming from the opposite direction, and he braced himself as his mount almost went down. He fired swiftly, and a rider screeched and wheeled away, swaying and rocking in his precarious saddle. His horse reared up, forelegs pawing the night, and he hung on grimly, feeling the strain pulling at his left shoulder. He gritted his teeth as the animal came back to earth, and there was an explosion of dust and a terrific jerk against Harlan’s taut body. He almost went out of the saddle, but forced himself to remain erect, knees locked in a deathly grip, and he fired at the nearest outlaw as the man came sweeping by.

 

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