by Jake Logan
“I try to stay that way,” Slocum said. “How many’s he got?”
“He brought in six.”
“Sounds like he means business.”
“I’d say so.”
Slocum was thinking all of a sudden that Benton was really on their side, or at least that he was on the side of the law. Benton, on the other hand, was thinking that he had Slocum convinced, but he was also thinking that there was no way he would be able to get Slocum off alone somewhere. There was no reason to talk to him away from the ranch. And even if he could manage it, everyone on the place would see them leave together. He rethought his plans. All he really needed was a last good payment from Totum—the payment for killing Slocum.
14
It was late for a ride back to Dead Dog, so Benton stayed the night in the bunkhouse at the Kirk ranch. When everyone got up the next morning, he had his breakfast with the ranch crew. He thanked Tex and got his horse ready to go. He mounted up and rode over to where Slocum was standing beside the corral. Leaning down, he spoke in low tones. “Slocum,” he said, “I’ll just go ahead and arrest that bastard. I’ll charge him with murder and attempted murder. I’ll get word to you when the trial is scheduled.”
“That sounds real good to me, Benton,” Slocum said. They shook hands, and Benton rode out. His ride back to Dead Dog was almost pleasant. He felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. His plans were all made. His future was fairly secure. He decided that he would go to some big city, San Francisco maybe. He would lead a leisurely life from here on, and he did not even have to do another killing to make it happen. It was late in the day by the time he reached Dead Dog, but he found Kansas Totum and his boys all drinking at the Range Boss Saloon. He told Kansas that he needed to see him in private. They walked out of the saloon and down the street to the sheriff’s office. Benton shut the door.
“It’s done,” he said.
Totum’s eyes opened wide. “He’s dead?”
“I told you I’d take care of it,” said Benton. “Now, have you got my money?”
Totum reached into his inside coat pocket and came out with a stack of bills, which he handed to Benton. Benton flipped through the bills. He did not bother counting them. Totum knew better than to shortchange him. He stuffed them into his own pocket.
“This is going into the bank first thing in the morning,” he said. What he was really planning was to go into the bank first thing in the morning and take out all of the rest of his money, but just in case Totum should see him go in, he would think that the sheriff was making a deposit.
“Tell me about it,” Totum said.
“There ain’t nothing to tell,” said Benton. “He never knew what happened. I plugged him in the back and he dropped dead. That’s all.”
“Well, where did you do it?”
“I had to get him away from the ranch. You know, away from any witnesses. I told him that I seen a spot beside the road that looked like someone had been hiding there. He went out with me to take a look. I pointed it out, and he made to go in there to look. That’s when I done it.”
“I wish I coulda seen it,” said Totum.
“If you want to see a killing done,” said Benton, “you got to have the guts to go along with the killer.”
“I wish he’da seen it coming.”
“If he’da seen it coming, he might’ve stopped it,” said Benton. “He was damn good.”
“Well, by God, I’m glad that’s it’s over and done. I’m sure glad of it. There won’t nothing stop me now. I can already see my cows grazing out there on that range. My cows.”
Benton thought that he should probably let it go at that, but he couldn’t help himself. Totum was gloating too much. “It might take a little bit more doing,” the sheriff said. “It’s a good thing you got yourself a new bunch of rowdies.”
“Why? What are you talking about?”
“That little Kirk gal got herself hitched to Bobby Hooper. Bobby’s daddy decided they ought to combine the ranches. It ain’t just the Kirk place now. You got the whole entire Hooper-Kirk spread to worry about now.”
“Hooper and Kirk combined?” said Totum.
“Miz Kirk, that is Missus Hooper, just hired six new hands. Old Man Hooper has got twelve. You go out there after them all at once, you’re going to have a hell of a fight.”
“With Slocum gone, they might quit.”
“The six at the Kirk place might have,” Benton said. “I don’t think they would, but they might have before Hooper and them joined forces. You ain’t going to scare them off now, and I ain’t doing no more shooting for you.”
As soon as the bank opened the next morning, Benton went in to draw out all his money. When the clerk asked him why, he said that he had some investments to make. He wouldn’t offer any more information. He had originally thought that he would leave in the middle of the night, but the timing did not work out that way. Having gotten his money from Totum the night before with a lie, he figured that the faster he departed, the better. He saddled his horse and rode it to his office. He tucked the rifle in the saddle boot. He packed all the extra ammunition in the saddlebags. bags. He had nothing in his room to worry about—a few clothes, that was all. He had enough money now to buy new clothes. He had a blanket roll, which he tied on behind the saddle. He hoped that he could get out of town before anyone noticed. He was riding out of town headed north when Totum saw him and came running to stop him.
“Carl,” he said, “where are you going?”
“I got a little trip to make out of town,” Benton said. “If you’re planning to make some kind of move against the Kirk and Hooper place, this would be a good time to get it done.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right, but where are you going?”
“Just in case anyone should ever accuse me of getting Slocum,” the sheriff said in a low voice, “I’m going to the county seat where I think they just might have a dodger on him. I mean to bring it back here to show that I had a right to kill him on account of he’s a wanted man.”
“Oh,” said Totum. “Yeah. That’s a good idea. How long will you be gone?”
“I’d say about a week. That ought to give you plenty of time for whatever it is you’ve got to do.”
“Yeah. Right. I’d say so. Okay. See you in about a week.”
Benton rode easy out of town, but as soon as he was out of sight, he kicked his horse in the sides to make better time, at least for a while, until he had put some distance between him and Dead Dog.
Slocum was sitting on the porch with Tex, Bobby, and Booker Milam. They were drinking coffee and discussing the problems of the ranch. Slocum, in particular, appeared confused.
“I thought I had Benton all figured,” he said. “Twice. At first, I only knew him by his reputation, which was all good. That is, for a lawman. The only thing was, he didn’t seem to be playing this game right. It didn’t make any sense until Charlene told me that he was in with Totum. I had to chew on that for a while. Then I come to believe it. It was the only thing that made any sense out of this whole mess. So now, all of a sudden, he comes out here to see me, and he’s singing a whole different tune. He seems to be on the right track now. I just don’t know what to believe.”
“Maybe he and Totum had a falling-out,” said Tex.
“Maybe,” said Slocum. “But if that was the case, he’d have to kill Totum right away to keep him from talking. He even told me that he suspects Totum of having killed his own two men to keep them quiet.”
“It is mighty strange,” agreed Milam.
“It just doesn’t make sense,” said Tex.
“Maybe he’s just trying to throw you off the track,” said Bobby. Everyone looked at Bobby, and he flushed a little. “Well, maybe,” he said.
“Maybe Bobby’s right,” said Slocum. “We’d best be on our guard. Anything could be about to happen around here.”
In the Range Boss Saloon in Dead Dog, in the back room, Kansas Totum and his six new men sat around
the big table. They were smoking and drinking whiskey. “It’s time to move right now,” Totum said. “Slocum’s dead.”
“What happened to him?” asked Sundown.
“All you need to know is that he’s dead. Killed. The sheriff’s out of town for a few days, gone to the county seat. This is the time for us to act.”
“That’s the kind of talk I like,” Sundown said. “When and how?”
“We’ll load up and ride out first thing in the morning. We’ll hit them and hit them hard. Leave no witnesses.”
“What about the gal out there?” said Rucker. “We kill her too?”
“I said no witnesses,” Totum answered.
“If we can keep from killing her too soon,” said Payne with an evil grin, “we might have some fun with her first.”
“I don’t give a shit about that,” said Totum. “Just make sure that she don’t get away. I want no one left alive out there.”
“That other bunch, what’s their name?” said Chappy.
“Hooper,” said Totum.
“Yeah. Hooper. They’s joined up with the Kirks, though, ain’t they?”
“There’ll be a bunch of them,” said Totum. “It won’t be an easy fight.”
“That’s just the way I like it,” said Sundown. “The more, the merrier.”
“Be ready to ride before the sun comes up,” Totum said. “Get plenty of sleep. I want everyone alert and in fighting shape. Tomorrow’s the day I win the whole valley.”
“We win it,” said Sundown.
Totum’s face suddenly took on a worried look. These were just hired hands. He did not like the way Sundown was talking, as if he had as much stake in this business as did Totum. And Sundown was the meanest of the bunch. Totum would have to do something about Sundown just as soon as his services were no longer required.
Carl Benton rode his horse as fast as he dared. He would ride him hard for a mile or so, then walk him for a spell. Then he would ride him hard again. He stopped to rest the horse now and then, and when he did that, he himself paced around nervously. He almost constantly watched his back trail. A couple of times, he took cuts across country to get off the main road, hoping to throw off anyone who might be following. He did not think that Slocum or any of that crew of Kirk and Hooper riders had any reason to suspect him of anything, especially after his last talk with Slocum. But if Slocum happened to ride into town, or anyone from out at the ranch, and if Totum talked with them or if he saw Slocum, he would know that Benton had lied to him and figure out that Benton was running out on him. Totum wouldn’t take that sitting down. Especially not with that new bunch of gunslingers he had hired. They would be after him.
Benton’s plan was to get to the nearest railroad as quickly as possible and get the hell out of this country, as far out as he could. He was still thinking about San Francisco. He could get out there and change his name. There was no way that anyone connected with Benton would ever hear of him again. As far as they were concerned, he would just have disappeared. That was how it would have to be.
He was leaving behind a cushy job, but it was a deadend job. The pay wasn’t all that great, and one of these days he would be perceived as being too old for it. Then he would be replaced. He had not been able to save up much money, and he would be out on the street in a short time. That was why he had hooked up with Kansas Totum in the first place—to build up a nest egg. He had not thought that the job would be too bad. All he had to do was to look the other way when Totum burned down buildings or ran off cattle in his attempt to buy up the whole valley. Then Kansas had offered him a substantial payment to get rid of Vance Kirk, and Benton had taken it. It was just too much money to pass up. Things had gotten worse from there. But at least, he had enough cash now to escape on.
He rode through much of the night, but he and his horse were just about too tired to continue. He decided that he had to stop and get some rest. It was dark, but he managed to find a spot beside the road where it ran close to a stream. He stopped there and unsaddled his horse. He hobbled it and let it wander loose. There was good grass along the stream. There were also trees, and Benton built himself a small campfire. He had provisions, and he made himself a meal and some coffee. When he had finished, he looked for a spot under the trees where he would have some cover if any trouble came his way. He let the fire go out where he had built it, but he moved away from the fire to a spot underneath a large tree where he could keep his eye on the road. He rolled out his blanket and stretched out on the ground. He did not bother even to pull off his boots.
Unknown to Benton, he had company in the grove of trees. A man was asleep down by the stream a short distance away from where Benton had stopped. An empty whiskey bottle lay on the ground beside the man. The man had no weapons. There was no horse nearby. His clothes were shabby and dirty, and he was in bad need of a bath and a shave. His hair was long and tangled, matted with grass from sleeping on the ground with no blanket. It was nearing sunup when some slight noise disturbed his sleep. He moaned and rolled over. He opened his eyes and rubbed them with the back of a hand. He got himself up on one elbow and looked, and then he saw the horse. He got up on his hands and knees and crawled closer to the animal, looking all around for any sign of human life.
Then he spotted the embers of a campfire. He knew they had not been there when he passed out the evening before. There had to be someone around somewhere, but he did not see anyone sleeping near the fire. He did not see anyone at all. His heart pounded with glee and with a touch of fear. Searching the woods carefully and for quite some time, he at last spotted the form of a sleeping man some distance away from the fire and from the horse. He looked back at the horse. It was hobbled, and its saddle was nowhere in sight, but he could see the reins still dangling. Hell, he thought, that’s all I need. He inched his way toward the horse.
15
Out on the Kirk ranch, it was the morning of the big day. Tex had just finished serving the last meal she would prepare and serve for her cowhands. Tomorrow, they would eat all their chow with the Hooper hands, and it would all be prepared by Hooper’s ranch cook. When the cowhands finished their meal, they all went to the corral and saddled up their horses. Three of them would stay at the Kirk ranch house, while the other four rode to the fence between the Hooper and Kirk ranches to meet up with the crew from Hooper’s place. They were to cut the fence and then drive the two herds of cattle together. Then there would be a major celebration. Hooper’s cook was barbecuing a steer. He had prepared several apple pies, a tub full of biscuits, and no one knew what else. There would be pots of coffee and even barrels of beer. It was to be the celebration of the wedding of Bobby and Tex and of the combining of their ranches. Slocum and Milam had already agreed that they would forgo the celebration and stand watch. They knew that they couldn’t take any chances.
When the fence was cut and dragged out of the way, the cowboys waiting back out of the way with the herds all waved their hats and whooped and started driving the Hooper herd toward the Kirk range. They damn near started a stampede, but the cowboys managed to control the cattle. In a little while, the two herds had become one and everything calmed down. The Kirk hands had all their belongings packed on their horses, and they rode with a few of Hooper’s men toward the Hooper bunkhouse, where they would be shown where to stow their gear.
Slocum was watching the road near the Kirk gate. Milam was stationed near the Hooper gate farther down the road away from Dead Dog. Everything out there seemed quiet. The excitement was all inside the two ranches, now one big ranch. No one had any idea of what was coming at them.
Some miles down the road toward Dead Dog, Kansas Totum rode at the head of his gang. Beside him rode Sundown with blood in his eyes and a horrible sneer slashing across his face like a ghastly knife wound. The others rode close behind them. All were heavily armed, looking almost like a small army riding to war.
At his post near the gate, Slocum decided to make a move. He rode out onto the road and then a few miles
closer to Dead Dog. He found a hill beside the road, partly covered by trees and brush, and he rode to the top of the hill. He discovered that he had a view of several miles of the road from there. He lit a cigar and settled down to watch and wait.
Out on the road north of Dead Dog, at his camp beside the stream, Carl Benton woke up. He’d had a few hours of good sleep, and was ready to resume his journey to some place far away from Dead Dog. He rolled up his blanket, took his saddle, and started for his horse. After a few steps, he stopped, astonished. He did not see his horse anywhere. He looked all around. No horse. It was well hobbled. It could not have gone that far. Not unless—He dropped his saddle and blanket roll and ran into the road. He looked up and down the road. The other side of the road was a bit hilly, so he ran over there and climbed to the top of the hill as fast as he could. Again, he looked up and down the road. He saw no sign of his horse. Cursing, he went back down and back across the road.
He walked to where he had left the horse, and there he saw the rope he had used to hobble the creature. He knew it had been hobbled well. Someone had untied the rope deliberately. Someone had managed to get close enough to him in the night to steal his horse. He spent some time studying the site for sign, and at last he decided that whoever it had been had drunk a bottle of whiskey and slept the night beside the stream. He had probably been there long before Benton had come along. Then, sometime in the night, he had awakened and spotted the horse. He had unfastened the hobbles, mounted up, and ridden off bareback in the direction of Dead Dog. Benton wanted to find the man and kill him, but the last direction he wanted to travel was toward Dead Dog. His plans were already thwarted. Walking would slow him down tremendously, but he had no choice
“Damn,” he said out loud, and he shouldered the blanket roll and the saddle and started walking down the road. It did not take long for his feet to start to hurt. They just weren’t used to walking farther than from his office to the Range Boss Saloon. This damned business was going to have him in a foul mood for sure. Hell, he was already pissed off. Some tramp, some bum, he figured, had gotten the best of him. So much for what pride he had left in his career as a manhunter and man-catcher and feared lawman. It was really all gone now, at least in his own mind. He had turned crook, murderer, fugitive, and now he had been robbed by a bum.