Law of the Range

by Hank Madison

  Many duels were fought fiercely and at top speed. Some of the rustlers passed straight through the cowboys, intent upon getting at the herd, but the rest wheeled their mounts and prepared to blast the surviving punchers out of their saddles. A Winchester cracked sharply above the booming sound of the Colts, and Harlan felt the burn of a slug. He aimed at the man who had fired at him, and cut loose, the impact of his striking lead hurling the outlaw from his saddle. Another rustler appeared quickly before him, intent upon riding him down, and Harlan thumbed his Colt, hammering lead into the man’s flesh. Then his gun was empty and he pulled away quickly to reload.

  Jem Grove went past him, yelling at the top of his voice, intent upon getting at the herd, leaving some of his crew to kill off the rest of his cowboys. Harlan reloaded quickly, his eyes upon the gang boss. Then he set in his spurs and went after Grove.

  Two riders pushed forward from the left, cutting across Harlan’s trail, and one turned in his saddle and started shooting at him. In the flaring light of the gun’s flash, Harlan caught a glimpse of the man’s face, and a pang stabbed through him when he recognised Sheriff Joe Lott. His teeth clicked together. Here was proof that the law was working hand in glove with the rustlers. He lifted his gun as one of the lawman’s bullets bored through his hat, and shot the sheriff through the body. The lawman vacated his saddle quickly and vanished.

  Harlan pounded on after Grove. He didn’t care what happened to the herd. He wanted to kill the gang boss. After the smoke and the dust settled around here there wouldn’t be anyone left to organise crime. He didn’t care if they killed him so long as he could take Grove with him. They could finish their fight in hell for all he cared.

  A rider went hammering past Harlan like a demented Indian, and he grinned tightly when he recognised Chuck Mallett. The young cowboy turned in his saddle to let Harlan know he had seen him. Then the youngster was firing at the rustlers. Harlan spurred his horse to get up alongside his pard.

  There seemed to be more than a score of rustlers closing in on the running herd. Harlan started shooting again, and smoke gushed around him as the big Colt in his aching hand crashed and jerked. The herd was going flat out, and he knew that nothing on earth could stop the cattle now. They would keep running until they had dropped from exhaustion. He saw a rider pitch to the ground, and compressed his lips. That made it one less, he thought.

  He twisted in his saddle to take a look around. There were riders everywhere in the night, but he couldn’t recognise any of them. This fight was one where a man shot at anyone who shot at him. This was a nightmarish hell that was made worse by the shadows and the rising dust. The pounding, thundering hooves of horses and cattle blotted out all else except the crashing guns.

  Some of the rustlers were right up with the leaders of the herd, and Harlan stared ahead, knowing that he had no chance of getting his surviving crew up there to do battle. He couldn’t see anything of his outfit, except Chuck Mallett just ahead, who was loosing off shots left and right as he gained on the rustlers. A sense of defeat loomed large in Harlan’s mind. He couldn’t hope to win out with this many rustlers against him. His crew had been swamped by superior numbers, and that was the end of it as far as they were concerned. But he clenched his teeth. Maybe he had lost the herd, but there was something more precious to Jem Grove that was forfeit, and that was the outlaw’s life. He began to urge his mount forward, wanting to pass Mallett and come up with Grove.

  The dusty shadows ahead suddenly became jumping with flaring light, and guns hammered again. Harlan frowned. What was going on? He stood up in his stirrups and peered into the murk. Chuck Mallett was reining in, waiting for Harlan to join him, and then the cowboy leaned sideways and shouted hoarsely.

  “Looks like more of them up ahead,” Mallett yelled. “What’s this all about, Steve?”

  Harlan shrugged his right shoulder and tightened his grip on his gun. A wall of fire suddenly erupted ahead, and he saw rustlers falling from their saddles. He moistened his dry lips. It didn’t seem to him that these were more men here to help Grove. He spotted the outlaw boss suddenly, trying to make off into the night, sweeping away from the deadly ambush that was striking cattle as well as rustlers.

  “I want him, Chuck,” Harlan yelled, pointing at Grove’s fading figure. “He’s the rustler boss.”

  “Leave him to me,” Mallett shouted, and was gone in a flash, riding fast through the night on Grove’s tail.

  Harlan reined in, and figures blundered past him in the thickening dust. He started shooting as he came under fire, and then his gun was empty and he swung away to get clear. A rider almost blundered into him, and he ducked as a Colt hammered. He felt a flash of fire along his left thigh, and clenched his teeth. The rider swept by and was gone, and Harlan finished reloading and started forward again.

  This seemed to go on and on, but he suddenly realised that the climax had come. The heavy firing out front of the herd had turned the maddened beasts, and he pulled out of danger as the cattle came streaming back, blind to everything except the instinct to run. He tensed himself to start shooting at the rustlers, prepared for the end if the whole bunch of them came back. He was in their path, and wouldn’t budge an inch in a stand-up fight.

  A rider appeared out of the murk at his side, and he lifted his gun.

  “Steve.” It was Aggie. “Don’t shoot.” The girl hauled her mount on to its haunches to prevent it running down Harlan’s motionless horse. “Steve, that’s my crew up front. I heard riders coming in when you went after Grove. I saw the sheriff with Grove’s men, so I guessed that it just had to be my crew coming in. I saw my brother. He didn’t attack your herd the other night, Steve, though that’s what he set out to do. He said he arrived too late. The herd was already gone when he showed up. He tracked it to Grove’s hideout. Grove was behind it all, hoping to throw the blame upon Will.”

  “Well, that’s something to be thankful for,” Harlan said through his teeth. “But what are your brother’s intentions now? Is he after the herd for himself?”

  “No. All he’s interested in is getting Grove and the rest of the outlaws. I think Will has learnt his lesson at last, Steve.”

  The sound of shooting was fading rapidly. The herd had passed out of sight, but Harlan didn’t worry about that. He could always round up the steers when they stopped running, and from what this girl said the rest of the herd was safe. He slid out of his saddle and Aggie came to join him. She stood by his side in the darkness, then took hold of his hand. He winced as pain shot through the limb, and she laughed softly as he swept her into his arms.

  “Steve,” she said softly. “This has been like a nightmare. But I do think everything is working out.”

  “I know what you mean,” he told her. “It usually comes out right if you have enough faith.” He drew a quick breath. “But I’ve still got a big problem on my hands.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m wondering how I’m gonna get you back to Texas with me.”

  “That’s simple,” she replied. “Why don’t you just ask me?”

  A rider came slowly out of the night, hands held above his head, and Harlan saw that it was Jem Grove. Behind the outlaw came Chuck Mallett, and the cowboy was grinning as he reined in.

  “I figured you’d want him alive,” Mallett said. “It’s up to you whether we hang him or take him in to the nearest law.”

  “Hang on to him,” Harlan replied with a grin. “We’ll find some law somewhere around. Grove can help straighten out a lot that’s happened.”

  Another rider loomed up, peering intently at them. His tall figure stepped out of the saddle and came towards them.

  “Aggie,” the newcomer demanded. “Is that you? Are you okay?”

  “I am now,” the girl replied, slipping a hand around Harlan’s waist. “Everything is okay now.”

  Harlan silently agreed as he held out a hand to welcome Will Payne. There would need to be a lot of rounding up, but that was easy, and he figured
that the cowboys who had died here had been amply revenged. And the next time he brought a herd north it should be a straight run through.