by Neil Hunter
‘What’s your next move, Jim?’ Dobbs asked.
Draining his cup Jim considered the question. Just what was his next move? It seemed crystal clear. He had to get Rocking-T prepared for a long fight. There seemed no other way. Olsen was all set to keep on raiding anything and everything connected with Rocking-T. Jim had the feeling that from now on things would really hot up.
‘Only thing I can do is to keep on fighting. Make Olsen see that if he wants Rocking-T it’s going to cost him.’
‘Jim,’ Melanie asked, ‘why has this Olsen suddenly taken it into his head to go for Rocking-T? I mean why now, in such a hurry?’
Jim glanced at her. He became aware that the question had been at the back of his mind all along. At first it had seemed that Olsen’s move had been primarily aimed at Rocking-T’s water. The end of the drought had made that excuse void, but Olsen was still pushing, obviously intent on a quick takeover. The question was why?
‘I’m still trying to work that out myself,’ he said.
John Dobbs was silently drinking his coffee. He put his cup down and produced a pipe which he filled and lit up. He sat for a moment, collecting his thoughts before he spoke.
‘I think perhaps I can throw some light on that for you, Jim,’ he said.
‘I’d be grateful if you could.’
‘See what you think of this. While we were on the way here, maybe just over a week back, we passed a trail drive, heading in this direction. And that herd was carrying a Boxed-O brand.’
Jim let the facts sink in. Olsen bringing in a herd. Why? Didn’t he already have more beef on his range than the rest of the area put together? Then he began to recall the things he’d heard about Olsen’s visit to Chicago. How the man had come back with contracts a mile long. Contracts to supply beef, that would make him a rich man when he honored them. If he honored them, Jim realized. Olsen, full of ambition, determined to get on, would do anything to make good on any deals he had fixed. If he required more cattle he was going to need more range, for it was a well-known fact that he was already overgrazing Boxed-O. Jim brought his suspicions to the point of reality. Now he could see why Olsen needed Rocking-T so desperately.
‘What was the size of that herd, John?’ he asked.
Dobbs smiled slowly. ‘I was saving that one, Jim. I’ll tell you something. I’ve seen some herds in my time, but I’ve never seen the likes of this one we passed. It was massive. You remember it, Melanie?’
The girl nodded. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.’ She turned to Jim. ‘It seemed to stretch for miles, and the dust . . . ‘ She made a distasteful face.
‘What kind of beef was it?’ Jim asked.
‘A mixture,’ Dobbs told him. ‘Breeding stock and a lot of young stuff.’
‘Now it begins to make sense,’ Jim said.
‘How?’ Melanie asked.
‘It’s known that Olsen has a lot of big contracts to honor with the Chicago meat-companies. In short it means he has to produce a lot of beef within a certain date. That means he has to expand his herds. And that means he’s going to need a lot more range than he has at the moment.’
Dobbs was relighting his pipe. ‘And Rocking-T is his choice.’
‘It figures. Rocking-T is the largest section of range after Boxed-O. Also it adjoins Boxed-O. In fact it’s just what he needs.’
‘What do you aim to do?’
Jim got up. ‘First I’m going to do some checking up. Try to pin down everything I can about that herd.’
‘Then?’
‘Then I’ll be able to make a move.’
Jim retrieved his hat, saying it was time to make a move for home. He thanked the Dobbs for their hospitality, and also for the word of the approaching herd.
‘You go careful now, Jim,’ John Dobbs said.
They were at the door, watching the rain as Jim pulled on his slicker, picked up his rifle. ‘I will,’ he said.
He left the store and began the walk down to the livery. Dobbs’ news had given him a lot to think about and he was wholly preoccupied as he strode along. So much so that he was almost unaware at the touch of a hand on his arm. Then it registered and he spun round, suddenly alert, his rifle coming up in his hand.
‘Hey, easy, Jim,’ the owner of the hand said, and Jim recognized Frank Spode.
‘Sorry, Frank. I guess I’m a little touchy.’
‘You been talking to Olsen?’
Jim nodded. ‘And wasting my time too.’
‘He won’t budge?’
‘Hell, no. He ain’t about to let up a fraction. Not until I’m off Rocking-T and he’s on.’
‘I’d say he was in for a long wait.’ Spode pushed his hands deep into his pockets. ‘He still in town?’
‘Down at the saloon.’
Spode appeared suddenly ill at ease. Jim wondered why, then dismissed the thought. Whatever Spode’s problem he wouldn’t thank anyone who tried to interfere, no matter what the motive.
‘Frank, you know anything about a big herd Olsen might have coming in?’
Spode’s troubled look vanished as he nodded. ‘I know some,’ he said. ‘He sent near six to eight men off maybe eight weeks back. Didn’t tell me much about it. Olsen’s pretty close-mouthed sometimes, even with the people who work with him. I heard some bunk-house talk about a herd being due.’
‘Could be important, Frank. John Dobbs, down at the store, told me he’d passed a herd on his way here to town. He didn’t know the men, but he said the brand was Boxed-O.’
‘Big herd?’
‘John Dobbs said so.’
Spode’s face sharpened. ‘And you figure this is why Olsen’s pushing you so hard of a sudden?’
‘It figures,’ Jim said. ‘He’ll be wanting extra graze.’
‘It fits the pattern,’ Spode agreed. ‘I guess you’ve heard about those contracts Olsen got in Chicago. They’ll mean big money if he comes through. He’s ambitious, Jim, and he’ll do any damn thing he can to make things work out in his favor.’
Jim nodded. ‘That’s something I know’ He glanced off down to where the gaudy saloon-front showed through the misty grayness of the falling rain. ‘Well, maybe he’s about to find out there are folk who’re just as stubborn when it comes to the push.’
Chapter Eighteen
Night was closing in when Jim finally got his horse bedded down in Rocking-T’s stable. He picked up his rifle and stepped out into the rain once more, making his weary way across the muddy yard. Lamplight showed in the windows of the bunkhouse and cook shack, pale beams spilling out onto the yard. Ready as he was to get inside the house Jim turned towards the bunkhouse.
About half the crew were inside, gathered round the big iron stove. As Jim stepped inside the aroma of boiling coffee reached him.
‘Hell, Jim, you look wetter than a drowned rat,’ Saintly Jones drawled.
‘Feel like one,’ Jim said.
Jan Dorn appeared from the small, closed-off section of the bunkhouse that served as the foreman’s sleeping quarters. He was shirtless, his upper body clad in faded, red-flannel underwear. His broad face looked tired.
‘Any trouble?’ Jim asked.
Dorn shook his head. ‘Today is all quiet. We got herd all gathered. Drove them over to east pasture. Couple of the boys will stay to watch them.’
‘How many did we lose?’
‘No more than twenty head. Is not too bad, eh, Jim?’
‘Bad enough.’ Jim tipped his hat back. ‘No sign of Boxed-O at all?’
Dorn shook his head. ‘Nothing. But we don’t take chances.’ He indicated the men around the fire. ‘Soon we ride out. Every man. Ride the boundary lines. We make sure we don’t get caught out again.’
‘Thanks, Jan.’
‘You have good day?’
‘Like hell,’ Jim told him. ‘It’s no go, Jan, Olsen won’t give up.’
‘Ah! Only one way to talk with Olsen. He hit you with rock you hit him with bigger one.’
‘I’m inclined to
agree.’
Jim told Dorn what he had been told while he’d been in town and what it appeared to amount to.
‘This is why he hits us you think?’
‘I reckon that’s it, Jan.’
‘Then he will try again. Soon. Is good we are ready.’
‘Maybe we’ll be doing some hitting ourselves, Jan,’ Jim said. A plan was slowly forming at the back of his mind, brought on by Dorn’s reference to the notion of eye for an eye. It was blurred as yet but it was emerging with increasing clarity.
‘How so, Jim?’
‘Give me time to work on it, then I’ll let you know.’
He took his leave then and carried on over to the house. The kitchen door opened at his touch and he stepped inside, feeling the welcome warmth reach out to embrace him. Ruth was there, with her father. They were sat before the kitchen fire, and as Jim came in Ruth’s head turned. A soft sound came from her lips as she saw him. In an instant she was on her feet, coming to him and throwing her arms around him, ignoring the wet slicker.
‘Hey, take it easy,’ Jim said. ‘I’m not exactly at my best. You carry on like this and I’m liable to just fall over.’ But he was glad to be back with her and his kiss told her so better than any words could.
‘I was worried,’ Ruth said. She helped him out of his slicker then took him over to the fire and made him sit down. ‘Now you stay put,’ she told him. ‘I’ll get your meal ready.’
Jim glanced across at Doc Baily. ‘You see what I have to put up with.’
Ruth’s father tapped his pipe out against the fire grate. ‘You complaining about the way my daughter treats you?’
Jim smiled tiredly. ‘Not ever,’ he said.
‘How’d things go today, Jim?’
‘They didn’t. Nothing’s changed.’
Ruth appeared at Jim’s side, a mug of coffee in her hand. ‘Wouldn’t Olsen listen to you, Jim?’
‘No. He’s decided he knows what he wants and he intends to keep after it.’
Ruth said no more as she moved away to prepare his meal, but Jim could sense her unease.
‘Doc, how’s Ben?’
‘He’s been pretty restless all day. His wounds are giving him some pain. He’s sleeping now. I gave him a draught to ease the pain some. I figure he’ll sleep until morning.’
‘Would he be able to stand the journey to town?’
Baily nodded. ‘If it’s taken easy. Why? You want him away from here?’
‘You can’t stay at Rocking-T for much longer. You’ve other patients. With Ben in town you’d be able to keep a pretty close watch on him.’
‘And?’
Jim smiled. ‘And I’d like Ruth to go with you. If things start to get rough out here I don’t want her in the middle of it.’
‘Are you expecting it to get rougher?’
‘I’m not expecting it to get any easier.’
‘You think Olsen might bring the fight right to Rocking-T’s doorstep?’
‘It’s possible,’ Jim said. ‘That’s why I want Ruth in town.’
Baily nodded. ‘Fair enough, Jim.’
‘And what if Ruth doesn’t want to go to town?’
Jim glanced round to where Ruth was standing. ‘She’ll go,’ he said, ‘because I’ve said she’ll go.’
‘Yes, Jim,’ she said, and went back to her cooking, saying no more on the subject.
Later, as they lay together in their bed, she held him close to her, and Jim could feel her trembling.
‘I can’t help it, Jim, but I’m frightened.’
‘Easy now. We’re doing fine.’ He drew an arm around her tightly. ‘Leave the worrying to me.’
‘Easy to say.’
He kissed her warmly. ‘You know, I figure it’s time you had other things to occupy your mind.’
Ruth stirred in the dark warmth, her voice gentle. ‘Such as what?’
‘Oh, we’ll think of something,’ he told her. His hand drew the front of her nightdress open, moving gently to the firm swell of her breasts. For a while there was only the whispered sound of their sudden embrace.
‘Now you mean . . . ?’ Ruth began, then let it trail off.
‘Can you think of a better place — or time?’ Jim asked, and heard her quick, breathless, ‘No.’
Chapter Nineteen
With Ruth and her father on their way to Garnett with Ben Nolan, Jim was able to concentrate fully on what now lay ahead of him.
The rain had slackened during the night and since dawn it had ceased completely. A pale sun was gradually breaking through, and the morning air had a freshness to it that was welcome.
Buckling on his gun rig as he crossed the yard, Jim watched a pair of riders coming in. He recognized them easily, for Rem Callender’s long, lean shape was hard to miss. Jim raised a hand to bring him and Keel over.
‘Morning, Jim,’ Callender said. He eased himself out of the saddle and took a moment to work the stiffness from his legs.
‘The boys take over all right?’ Jim asked.
‘They did, and was I ever glad to see them.’ Callender took off his hat and scrubbed his hand through his hair. ‘Hell, but it was wet last night.’
‘Rem, I’ve got a job for you and Josh and me.’
‘Sure thing, Jim.’
‘You two go and get yourselves sorted out first,’ Jim told them. ‘Dicken’s got breakfast on the go. I’ll see you when you’re on the outside of bacon and coffee.’
Jim left them and went on across the yard. A number of his crew were saddling horses. Seeking out Jan Dorn he moved over to join him.
‘You all set, Jan?’
‘Yes,’ The Dutchman frowned, scratched his jaw. ‘You are sure is going to work?’
‘As sure as I can be, Jan. I’ll have Rem and Josh with me. Two good men. We’ll see it through.’
‘I hope so,’ Dorn said dourly.
‘Look, Jan, we settled this earlier. If we pull this off it’ll give Boxed-O something to think about.’
Dorn nodded. ‘Yah, you are right, Jim. We do it your way.’ He finished tightening his saddle. ‘You don’t worry. We look after ranch and herd. And we keep Olsen in our sights.’
Dorn unhitched his horse and swung up into the saddle ready to move out.
‘Good luck, Jim,’ he said.
‘And you.’ Jim watched as Dorn led the crew out and away from the ranch.
Jim went over to the house and spent some time checking that windows were closed and that the fires were all out. This was something he’d promised Ruth he’d see to. He hoped it wouldn’t be too long before he had her back here and they were living in the house like people should, without the worry they had now. When he had finished he made his way over to the cook shack. He found Callender and Keel, changed into fresh clothes, seated at the long table with filled plates of bacon, eggs and potatoes before them. A tall pot of coffee stood on the table between them, and Jim sat down and poured himself a mugful, taking time to taste it before he spoke.
‘I’ve got information that Olsen has a big herd coming in. The way it looks this herd is his reason for wanting Rocking-T. His own range just isn’t big enough to carry additional beef.’
Callender continued to eat as Jim spoke. Then he looked up.
‘He’s a greedy man. What’s he after — the whole country?’
‘You never can tell. It happens that Olsen was in Chicago sometime back. He made a number of big deals, took on a heap of contracts to supply beef.’
‘And that’ll mean a whole lot of money for him,’ Callender said. ‘He’s ambitious.’
‘I figure what you said before fits better,’ Keel said briefly. ‘Greedy.’
‘Whatever you call him, it still means that to honor those contracts he has to produce a hell of a lot of beef, and that means he needs more graze land.’
Callender pushed his empty plate aside and poured some coffee.
‘So what do we do?’
‘Hell, Rem, I reckon I can figure that out myself,’ Ke
el said.
Jim eyed Callender closely and saw that there was a knowing look on his face. Callender was way ahead of his partner and not too far behind Jim himself.
‘We going to throw a little sand in Olsen’s coffee?’
Jim nodded. ‘That herd is all that Olsen is waiting for, so I reckon we’ll do what we can to make that wait a long one.’
‘Three of us away makes three less to handle trouble here.’
‘I know that, Rem, but it’s something I’m prepared to take. Jan and the boys know what we’re going to do and they’ll hold their end up here. One thing you haven’t seen yet is Rocking-T when it’s really fighting mad.’
Callender grinned. ‘I can imagine it.’ He finished his coffee. ‘How far out is this herd, Jim?’
‘I should say they’re due on Boxed-O in three days. That puts them in some mighty rough country just now.’ He paused. ‘Be a hell of a place for that herd to get to running.’
Keel smiled like a man anticipating an enjoyable task. ‘Seems fair,’ he said. ‘They run off our herd so we give them the same.’
‘If we ride steady we should reach it by midday tomorrow. A herd that size will be moving slow. We’ll ride as soon as you’re ready.’
Keel got up, picking up his rifle.
‘We’re ready now, Jim,’ Rem Callender told him.
Chapter Twenty
By the evening they were riding across open, rugged range that lay well beyond even Boxed-O’s boundaries. Here the land took on a new face. Gone were the sweeping expanses of grass and trees. This country was heavy with scrub and brush, the beginnings of craggy rock outcroppings. They were heading northwest, and ahead of them the land began a slow climb to the eventual high black peaks of a range of barren, rocky mountains.
They rode for the most part in silence, speaking only when it was necessary. Jim had enough on his mind to keep him occupied, and the two men with him concentrated on their own part in the venture. Keel rode out in front, his keen eyes scanning the country for sign. He was, Jim learned, a born tracker, with a superb sense of direction and the staying power of an Indian. Rem Callender stayed close to Jim, sitting his saddle with a casualness that seemed to verge on downright indifference, but he was as alert as any man could be, constantly dropping back to check the trail behind. Jim realized he couldn’t have chosen better men for this particular job if he’d searched for a month.