The Big Country

by Donald Hamilton

  “I see,” Julie said. She did not look at Ben Rainier, but kept her eyes on the Older man. “And did you assign him any other duties besides establishing this place, Mr. Hananesey?”

  Rufus Hannesey’s deep chuckle came again “Well, I thought the boy deserved a little social life for all his hard work, and there was no harm in keeping track of what youe were up to.”

  She continued to keep her eyes strictly away from Ben Rainier, saying, “I guess I owe Mr. Brockhurst an apology, then. When I finally realized I was being spied upon, I blamed him. Not that he was entirely innocent, either.” She could not help adding with some bitterness, “I don’t seem to have made a very good choice of friends, Mr. Hannesey.”

  After a little, she asked, “Why are you telling me this?”

  The bearded man shrugged. “Why not? You’d have guessed most of it anyway by the time you got away from here. Reckon you understand we can’t let you loose to talk for a couple of days. When you do talk, you might as well have the straight of it.”

  “I see.”

  “You’ll hear no apologies from me, girl. We’re fighting for our lives, we can’t afford to be gentlemen. To Major Terrill and his friends we’re varmints in a hole down there in Blanco Canyon. Those fine people all have the thought in the back of their minds that sooner or later, when they have a little time to spare for the task, they’ll ride down there with shovels and dig us out. Well, I tell you, girl, we ain’t aiming to be dug out. In fact, we’ve a notion to do a little digging of our own.” He sat back and looked at her grimly. “I don’t know where you got your highfalutin ideas from. Clem Maragon always figured it was a man’s job to get along with his neighbors, regardless of their family or upbringing, as long as they gave him half a chance which we were always careful to do. I had no quarrel with your grandpa, he was a fine man. It was a bad day for me when I learned he was failing. I knew then that war was coming to San Rafael and I made ready for it. I figured you’d sell to the Terrills right away, being as you were so close to them. but you fooled me. You’ve kept us all dangling for a couple of years, girl, but blood’s been spilled now and it’s too late for fooling.”

  She said quietly, “Well, anyway, I managed to buy us a couple of years of peace. What are you going to do, ride on Ladder and wipe it out?”

  Hannesey laughed. “No, no, girl, I don’t have to strike at him. It’ll be no trouble at all to get him to attack me and destroy himself. And while he’s doing it-” He chuckled pleasantly. “Tell me, what’s the first thing a cattleman does when he expects trouble?” ‘

  She hesitated. "‘Why,I guess he moves his stock to safety.”

  “Your grandpa taught you a few things, I see. That’s right, he moves his stock as far away from danger as he can. So expecting trouble from the South, the Major’s shifted most of his herd up around Caballo Springs-, Climb the hill up there and you can see some of it, come morning. He’s so sure he’s the only smart man win the world that he hasn’t even bothered to, make friends with Ben, here, right at his back door, in fact, he booted Ben away from the Springs without much ceremony when he decided he could use them himself. So what do you think the next move is, girl?”

  She licked her lips, suddenly afraid. Little as the Terrills had left her to love or admire, she could not bear to see them destroyed in this cold and we'll-planned fashion.

  She said, “Why, I suppose when the Major rides south to deal with you, his cattle will start moving north or West. When he comes back to Ladder, he will find his range empty.”

  “If he comes back to Ladder, girl,” Rufus Hannesey said gently. “I don’t really expect he’ll be coming back.”

  She hesitated, shocked anew, but presently she asked with honest curiosity, “How do you expect to get away with it, Hannesey? The law’s not that far away!”

  A man has a right to defend his own home when it is attacked by an arrogant neighbor. And if the neighbor’s careless enough to leave his stock undefended and lawless men take advantage of his negligence-” He shrugged and smiled. “I’m not a rustler, girl. I happen to know a few men who are, that’s all. Maybe I put the thought into their minds, but I make nothing out of it, and it would be a hard thing to prove.”

  “Not if there’s a witness,” she said deliberately. “Like me.”

  He chuckled, then he laughed. “Damned if you aren’t your grandpa’s, girl! Throwing it in my teeth. But you’re forgetting something, Julie Maragon. You’re forgetting that people will want to know how you came by your information. And when you say you learned it visiting Ben Rainier’s cabin in the middle of the night-” He spread his hands eloquently. "I’m afraid it’ll seem like a case of the pot calling the kettle black to most folks. Ben will be gone with the cattle, and if I know my charitable and tolerant neighbors, they’ll be a lot more interested in figuring out what old Clem Maragon’s granddaughter was to that cattle thief than in hearing more harsh words about the Hanneseys. Besides, dead men don’t have many friends, particularly when they’ve spent their lives thinking themselves better than the rest of the World.” He slapped his big hands down on the table and shoved himself up. “Well, things are all set here and there’s work to be done down at Blanco, we’ll be riding. Take good care of her, Ben.”

  Buck Hannesey, following his father through the door, looked back over his shoulder and laughed unpleasantly. “But not too good, Ben,” he said, and pulled the door closed behind him.

  There was a stir outside as they mounted, then they rode away,and Julie drew a faint sigh of relief.

  “Well, Ben,” she said, “are you really going to keep me here?”

  The big man turned from the window where he had been standing, and said pleadingly, “Ah, Julie-"

  “Are you?” she persisted. “What if I get up and walk out the door? Would you lay hands on me?”

  He said, “Don’t, Julie! There are men outside who wouldn’t hesitate. You’re not safe if you step out that door.”

  “I see.” She glanced at him. “Where do you expect to get rid of a stolen herd that size?”

  “We’ll split it up- Don’t pump me, Julie.”

  “Why do you do it? You’re not the kind.”

  He looked down at his big hands. “How do you know what kind I am?” he asked bitterly. "I owe Mr. Hannesey my life. They were going to hang me.”

  She looked at him, startled. “Murder, Ben?” ’

  He said, “They made me mad, Julie. They wouldn’t believe me when I said I better not drink. I tried to tell them, but they just laughed at me. So I had a couple of drinks with them just to please them, but they wouldn’t stop making fun of me and I-well, I got mad, that’s all. And a man like me, Julie, he can’t afford to get mad. Things-just happen. Ever since I was a boy. That’s why I had to leave home the first time. I just shook him a little and his neck broke; and I’d asked him to leave me alone. I had, Julie. But they never stop in time..."

  She looked at him wordlessly, unable to speak for what she saw in his eyes. Yet through the wave of warm pity ran a thin current of cooler judgment tinged with fear, after all, any man should be able to control his temper, and the bigger he was the more reason for control. She let the thought form in her mind, Feel as sorry for him as you like, but keep your eyes open, too. You don’t want to stay here any longer than you have to.

  She started to speak but a quick knock on the door interrupted her. “Ben! Rider coming in by the road.”

  Ben turned quickly and blew out the lamp, leaving the room illuminated by weak daylight. “Tell Tiny to take the new men up the arroyo to the hideout,” he called. “Tell him to circle them around below so they’re not seen leaving, and have him get them out of here fast, Lou. No fire when they get there. You stay here and meet this fellow, while I keep Maragon out of sight-, Who is it?”

  "I don’t‘ know,” the man called Lou replied. “But the boys say he’s wearing a hell of a, funny-looking hat...”

  Chapter 17

  THE LITTLE RANCH looked to be a
neat and pleasant place McKay thought, studying it at a distance. Like many big, men, Ben Rainier apparently possessed an almost feminine instinct for tidiness. The house had a solid appearance that was not marred by the firewood stacked in orderly fashion near the door, or by the well-made lean-to addition that presumably sheltered the overflow of tools and gear. Smoke rose from the stovepipe toward the pink and cloudless morning sky. There had been a light at the window when McKay first saw the house some miles back, but this had been extinguished, perhaps no longer needed.

  A man came to the cabin door as McKay rode up, a spare, swarthy man, bare-headed and in shirtsleeves, with half a week’s growth of beard which he scratched idly as he watched the visitor approach. He had a revolver thrust into the waistband of his trousers.

  “Looking for someone, mister?”

  “Is this Mr. Rainier’s place?” McKay asked, and started to dismount."

  The man said gently, “It ain’t considered polite to get off your horse until you’re asked, pilgrim.”

  McKay checked his movement. “Am I asked?”

  The swarthy man shrugged. “Sure. Light down. Just telling you something that might come in handy, there’s places around here you could get yourself shot, hopping out of the saddle like that.”

  “I thank you for the information,” McKay said dryly. It seemed a long time since he had had his feet on the ground. Standing there, working the stiffness out of his muscles, he took advantage of the opportunity to look around. There were several horses in the near-by corral. One was a large, clumsy gray that he had seen before, Ben Rainier’s horse. Another was a small chestnut mare with four white feet. McKay looked for the telltale saddle and did not see it, but he did not need it. The last head of stock bearing the Lazy M brand, she had said, and he could read the brand plainly. He found that he was rather shocked and surprisingly disappointed. So it’s like that and you’re a fool for coming here, he thought.

  “Ben ain’t around just now,” the swarthy man said. “Was he expecting you, mister-”

  “McKay. Jim McKay.”

  The other took McKay’s "proffered hand and shook it briefly. “Lou Combs,” he said. “Ben’s off somewhere with Tiny Johnson. There’s only the three of us on the place. You didn’t say if Ben was expecting you.”

  McKay laughed. “Well, I guess I might as well confess, Mr. Combs. I met Mr. Rainier in San Rafael, the other day, but I had no intention of paying him a visit. However, I started from Ladder pretty late yesterday afternoon, and some time after dark I discovered that not only was the road going north instead of east, but it was becoming alarmingly indistinct. Finally I realized that I was completely lost and there was nothing to do but swing back and try to find the river. It was just about daybreak when I came across your road out there and saw your smoke against the sky. It was a pleasant sight, sir, I can assure you.”

  It was a good enough story for the spur of the moment, containing, as it did, large elements of truth, and McKay hoped very much it would be accepted, since the alternative, was to explain that he had come here trying to look out for a girl who, apparently, knew only too well how to look out for herself. I have my rifle, She had said confidently, when he offered, to see her back to town. Her rifle and giant Ben Rainier, McKay thought wryly, with that combination, at her service, she would hardly be requiring help from a tenderfoot.

  He said, “So if you could spare me a bite to eat, Mr. Combs, and tell me precisely how to get to San Rafael from here, I would appreciate it very much.”

  “Sure, come on inside,” the other said. “We ain’t got much, but you’re welcome to what there is.”

  The inside of the cabin had the same solid but orderly air as the outside. McKay accepted a cup of coffee and bore it to the table, while Combs threw bacon into the skillet.

  “Shouldn’t have much trouble finding your way from here,” Combs said presently. “Just head back the way you came in and take the left-hand fork when you come to the Springs. Then after a bit you’ll hit the main road from. Ladder, but by then you can practically see the town ahead of you-” He was interrupted by loud clattering sound that seemed to come from just the other side of the cabin’s end wall. He lifted the skillet, poked the fire, and spat into it. “I swear to God, I’m going to shoot that dog some day,” he said.

  “Why don’t you tell them to come out?” McKay said.

  The man turned to look at him. It took a while. Then Combs grimaced. “Why, I reckon I will, at that,” he said, and walked to the door.

  McKay followed. The swarthy man stopped outside.

  McKay stopped just behind him, watching Julie Maragon emerge from the tool shed. She was carrying her coat, hat, and gloves in an untidy bundle, as if she had gathered them up in haste or they had been thrust upon her. She stepped and waited for Ben Rainier to maneuver his great body through the small opening.

  The big man’s face was red, as he straightened up to look at McKay. “It’s' hell to be so big you’re always knocking things over,” he said ruefully.

  McKay said, “I’d already recognized Miss Maragon’s mare in, the corral.” He glanced at the girl. “It’s a pity she’s gone lame, Miss Maragon. Nothing serious, I hope.”

  Julie said, “Why, she isn’t-” Then her eyes widened slightly. and she turned to look, and cried, “Oh, Ben, there is something wrong With Star! Look at her!”

  The big man turned, and Lou Combs looked in the same direction, and McKay picked up, from the pile close at hand, the stick of firewood that seemed best suited to his purpose-a sound piece of pine about two feet long and two inches in diameter. He regarded Lou Combs’s skull with the practiced eye of a man who had more than once been faced with the problem of using a belaying pin to take the fight out of a belligerent seaman, and struck hard and accurately.

  Chapter 18

  HE HAD HOPED to get the pistol from the fallen man’s belt had planned on it, in fact-but Ben Rainier was already wheeling as he bent down, and Combs had fallen on top of the weapon.

  “Little man,” Rainier said in a soft, wondering voice, “why, little man, you’ve gone and hurt Lou!”

  Then something queer and ugly happened to his face, all the boyishness went out of it, leaving a great, blond bull of a man who lowered his head and came across the yard in a rush. McKay had no time to turn Combs’s inert body to its back and find the gun, instead he moved clear and crouched to await the big man, balancing the club in his hand.

  Rainier veered slightly in his charge to avoid the unconscious body on the ground, and McKay, having anticipated this, stepped back across the body. He avoided the big hand flung out to seize him, and swung a whistling, backhand blow with his shoulder and arm behind it, reaching far out across Lou Combs to lay the club squarely across the small of Rainier’s back as the big man’s momentum carried him past. Although awkwardly delivered, it was a blow that would have broken a lesser man in two, and Rainier’s body arched in a reflex of protest. His mouth emitted a choked bellow and his hand went back to support the injury.

  It was an opening, and McKay took two long steps and swung the club again, but Rainier, with the instinct of a fighting animal, was already ducking, and the pine glanced his skull. He wheeled, shaking his head. McKay crouched low and struck at the side of the knee, slammed another blow against the kidney, and tried for the back of the neck and missed-a flurry of short, chopping, wrist-and-forearm cuts with the club as he went in under the big man’s guard and came out behind him.

  Rainier pivoted, and they faced each other more cautiously now, breathing heavily. “That club,” Rainier panted, “you’ve got no right to use a club against fists!”

  McKay laughed. “Saw yourself off about six inches, Mr. Rainier, and lose about fifty pounds, and I’ll throw the club away-, Miss Maragon,” he said Without turning his head, “Miss Maragon, the fellow on the ground has a pistol-”

  He had lost track of her in the action, now her voice came from behind him, coolly, “I have it. Shall I shoot, or can you ha
ndle him? There are a dozen men up the arroyo somewhere, a shot might bring them.”

  Rainier’s glance wavered briefly at the clear declaration of the girl’s allegiance. He cried, “Don’t point that gun at me, Julie. A little bullet won’t stop me. I’ve got no fear of guns.”

  “I, know, Ben.”

  McKay said, “Let’s not kill anybody if we can help it, Miss Maragon. Just watch my back, if you please, while I chop this fellow down to size.”

  The deliberate boastfulness had its intended effect, Ben Rainier lowered his head and came in again, swinging a great fist at McKay’s head. McKay stepped back and let the blow go past, brought the club down hard on the elbow, and in almost a continuation of the same movement, cut backhand at the face. But he had come in too close to do it, expecting the big man to be driven back or at least distracted by the counterattack. Now he flung up his left arm belatedly to ward off the other massive fist that Rainier, apparently unhurt, threw at him, but the blow crashed through and struck him glancingly along the head and sent him spinning to the ground, half dazed.

  “Now I’m going to stomp you, little man!” Ben Rainier’s thick voice came to him, and McKay rolled away and came to all fours, the club still in his hand. There was blood down the side of Rainier’s face and his movements had been slowed by the beating he had taken, but his eyes had a mad and milky look that indicated he was beyond pain or reason. He came in and aimed a kick at McKay, who threw himself aside and came up again and swung hard at the legs of the other man. He missed as Rainier hopped back; this gave him the time he needed to rise, avoiding the hands that reached for him.

  Rainier roared a wordless curse and charged McKay like a bear, arms spread Wide to either strike or enfold him. McKay turned, drew himself together, and launched himself in a fencer's lunge, driving the billet of wood at the end of his straight arm like a sword, directly at the pit of the big man's unguarded stomach. The full weight of his body was behind it and the force of the other's charge multiplied the impact.