the Rider Of Ruby Hills (1986)

by L'amour, Louis

  Ross Haney got to his feet. "Get him ready to move. I'll get my horse down to May's and come back." He listened while Kinney gave him directions about finding her house, and then hurried to the door.

  It was too late.

  A dozen hard-riding horsemen came charging up the street and swung down at the hotel. Two men stepped up on the boardwalk and strode into the hotel. Haney knew one by his size. It was Walt Pogue himself, and the man at his right was the man who had been with Berdue at the springs!

  Pogue confronted Kinney. "Kinney! I want to search your place! That killer Roily Burt is somewhere in town, an' by the Lord Harry we'll have him hangin' from a cottonwood limb before midnight!"

  "What makes you think he'd be here?" Kinney demanded. He was pale and taut, but completely self-possessed. He might have been addressing a class in history, or reading a paper before a literary group. "I know Burt, but I haven't seen him."

  Chapter VIII

  Help Needed

  Unobtrusively, Ross Haney was lounging against the door to the kitchen, his mind working swiftly. They would find him, and there was no earthly way to prevent it. The only chance would be to avert the hanging, to delay it. He knew suddenly that he was not going to see Roily Burt hang. He didn't know the man, but Burt had won his sympathy by winning a fair fight against two men.

  "What are you so all-fired wrought up about, Pogue?" he drawled.

  Walt Pogue turned square around to face him. "It's you! What part have you got in this?"

  Ross shrugged. "None at all! Just wonderin'. Everywhere I been, if a man is attacked an' kills two men against his one, he's figured to be quite a man, not a lynchin' job."

  "He killed a Box N man!"

  "Sure!" Ross smiled. "Box N men can die as well as any others. It was a fair shake from all I hear. All three had guns, all three did some shootin'. I haven't heard any Reynolds men kickin' because it was two against one. Kind of curious, that. I'm wonderin' why all the RR men are suddenly out of town?"

  "You wonder too much!" It was the man from the springs. "This is none of your deal! Keep out of it!"

  Ross Haney still leaned against the door, but his eyes turned to the man from the springs. Slowly, carefully, contemptuously he looked the rider over from head to heel, then back again. Then he said softly:

  "Pogue, you've got a taste for knickknacks. If you want to take this boy home with you, keep him out of trouble."

  The rider took a quick step forward. "You're not running any bluff on me, Haney!"

  "Forget it, Voyle! You get to huntin' for Burt. I'll talk to Haney." Pogue's voice was curt.

  Voyle hesitated, his right hand hovering over his gun, but Ross did not move, lounging carelessly against the doorpost, a queer half-smile on his face.

  With an abrupt movement then, Voyle turned away, speaking quickly over his shoulder. "We'll talk about it later, Haney!"

  "Sure," Ross Haney said, and then as a parting he called softly, "Want to bring Dahl with you?"

  Voyle caught himself in midstride, and Voyle's shoulders hunched as if against a blow. He stopped and stared back, shock, confusion, and puzzlement struggling for expression.

  Haney looked back at Pogue. "You carry some characters," he said. "That Voyle now. He's touchy, ain't he?"

  "What did you mean about Dahl? He's not one of my riders!"

  "Is that right? I thought maybe he was, although I'll admit I didn't know."

  Walt Pogue stared at him, annoyed and angry, yet puzzled, too. The big man walked back to the table and poured a cup of coffee from the big pot on the stove. He put sugar in it and then cream. He glanced once over his shoulder at Ross.

  Haney felt a slight touch on his shoulder and glanced around and found May at his shoulder.

  "He's gone!" she whispered. "He's not there!"

  There was dust on her dress and he slapped at it, and she hurriedly brushed it away. "Where was he shot?" he asked, under his breath.

  "In the leg. He couldn't go far, I know."

  Pogue turned around. "What are you two talking about?" he demanded. "Why the whispering?"

  "Is it any of your business?" Haney said sharply.

  Walt Pogue stiffened and put his cup down hard. "You'll go too far, Haney! Don't try getting rough with me! I won't take it!"

  "I'm not askin' you to!" Ross replied roughly. He straightened away from the doorpost. "I don't care how you take it. You're not running me or any part of me, and you might as well learn that right now. If I choose to whisper to a girl, I'm doin' it on my own time, so keep out of it!"

  Pogue stared at him and then at the girl, and there was meanness in his eyes. He shrugged. "It's a small matter. With all this trouble I'm gettin' jumpy."

  Voyle came back into the room accompanied by two other men. "No sign of him, boss. We've been all over the hotel. Simmons an' Clatt went through the vegetable cellar, too, but there ain't a sign of him. There was an empty box under those spuds, though, big enough to hide a man."

  Allan Kinney had come back into the room. "What about that, Kinney?"

  "Probably somethin' to keep the spuds off the damp ground, much as possible," Haney suggested carelessly. "Seems simple enough."

  Pogue's jaw set and he turned swiftly. "You, Haney! Keep out of this! I was askin' Kinney, not you!"

  This time Voyle had nothing to say; once Ross glanced at him, and the man looked hastily away. "He's scared," Ross told himself mentally. "He's mixed in some deal an' don't want his boss to know it. He's afraid I'll say too much."

  Pogue turned and strode from the restaurant, going out through the hotel lobby, his men trooping after him. When the last man was gone, May turned to Kinney. "Allan, where can he be? He was there, you know he was there!"

  Kinney nodded. "I know." He twisted his hands together. "He must have heard them and got out somehow. But where could he go?"

  Ross Haney was already far ahead of them. He was thinking rapidly. The searchers would probably stop for a drink, but they would not stop long. Voyle was apparently in on the plot to have Burt killed, for he had been at the springs, and this had happened too swiftly. Too little noise had come from the RR for it to be anything but a plot among them. Or so it seemed to Haney. For some reason Roily Burt had become dangerous to them, and he was intended to die in the gunfight the previous night, but had survived and killed one of their men and wounded another. Now he must be killed, and soon.

  Yet Haney was thinking further than that. His mind was going outside into the darkness, thinking of where he would go if he were a wounded man with little ammunition and no time to get away.

  He would have to hobble or to drag himself. He would be quickly noticed by anyone and quickly investigated. He would not dare go far without shelter, for there was some light outside even though it was night.

  Yet Haney was recalling the stone wall. It started not far from the hotel stables and went around an orchard planted long ago. Some of the stones had fallen, but much of it was intact. A man might make a fair defense from behind the wall, and he could drag himself all of a hundred yards behind it.

  Ross walked swiftly out of the hotel through the back door. There in the darkness he stood stock-still at the side of the door letting his eyes become accustomed to the night. After a minute or two he could pick out the stable, the orchard, and the white of the stones in the wall.

  Walking to the stable, he took the path along its side and then put a hand on the stone wall and dropped over it with a quick vault. Then he stood still once more. If he approached Burt too suddenly the wounded man might mistake him for an enemy and shoot. Nor did he know Burt, or Burt him.

  Moving silently, Haney worked his way along the stone wall. It was no more than three feet high, and along much of it there was a hedge of weeds and brambles. He ripped a scratch on his hand and then swore. Softly, he moved ahead, and he was almost to the corner when a voice spoke, very low.

  "All right, mister, you've made a good guess but a bad one. Let one peep out of you an' you ca
n die."

  "Burt?"

  "Naw!" the cowhand was disgusted. "This is King Solomon an' I'm huntin' the Queen of Sheba! Who did you think it would be?"

  "Listen, an' get this straight the first time. I'm your friend, and a friend of May and Kinney from the hotel. I've been huntin' you to help you out of here. There's a horse at May's shack, an' we've got to get you there just as fast as we can make it. You hear?"

  "How do I know who you are?"

  "I'd have yelled, wouldn't I? If I found you?"

  "Once, maybe. No more than once though. This Colt carries a kick. Who are you. I can't see your face."

  "I'm Ross Haney. Just blew in."

  "The hombre that backed Syd Berdue up? Sure thing, I know you. Heard all about it. It was a good job."

  "Can you walk?"

  "I can take a stab at it if you give me a shoulder."

  "Let's go, then."

  With an arm around Burt's waist, Haney got him over the fence and then down the dark alleyway between it and the stone house next to it. They came out in an open space, and beyond it there was the trail and then the woods. Once in the shelter of the trees they would have ample concealment all the way to May's house.

  Yet once they were started across that open space, any door opened along the backs of the buildings facing them from across the street would reveal them, and they would be caught in the open. There would be nothing for it then but to shoot it out.

  "All right, Burt. Here we go! If any door opens, freeze where you are!"

  "Where you takin' me?" Supporting himself with a hand on Haney's shoulder, and Haney's arm around his waist, he made a fair shift at hobbling along.

  "May's shack. If anything delays me, get there. Take her horse an' light out. You know that old trail to the badlands?"

  "Sure, but it ain't no good unless you circle around to Thousand Springs. No water. An' that's one mighty rough ride."

  "Don't worry. I'll handle that. You get over there and find a spot to watch the trail until you see me. But with luck we'll make it together."

  Burt's grip on Haney's shoulder tightened. "Watch it! Somebody openin' that door!"

  They stopped, standing stock-still. Ross felt Burt's off arm moving carefully, and then he saw the cowhand had drawn a gun. He was holding it across his stomach, covering the man who stood in the light of the open door. It was the bartender.

  Somebody loomed over the bartender's shoulder. "Hey! Who's that out there?"

  "Go on back to your drinks," the bartender said. "I'll go see." He came down the steps and stalked out toward them, and Haney slid his hand down for his left gun.

  The fat man walked steadily toward them until he was close by. He glanced from one face to the other. "Pat," Burt said softly, "you'd make a soft bunk for this lead."

  "Don't fret yourself," he said. "If I hadn't come, one of those drunken Box N riders would have, an' then what? You shoot me, an' you have them all out here. Go on, beat it. I'm not huntin' trouble with any side." He looked up at Haney. "Nor with you, Ross. You don't remember me, but I remember you right well from your fuss with King Fisher. Get going' now."

  He turned and strode back to the door. "What is it?" A drunken voice called. "If it's that Roily Burt, I'll fix him!"

  "It ain't. Just a Mexican kid with a horse. Some stray he picked up, an old crowbait. Forget it!" The door closed.

  Ross heaved a sigh. Without further talk, they moved on, hobbling across the open, then into the trees. There they rested. They heard a door slam open. Men came out into the street and started up the path away from them. They had been drinking and were angry. The town of Soledad would be an unpleasant place on this night.

  When Haney had the mare saddled, he helped Roily up. "Start down the trail," he said. "If you hear anybody comin', get out of sight. When I come, I'll be ridin' that palouse of mine. You've seen it?"

  "Sure. I'll know it. I keep goin' until you catch up, right?"

  "Right. Keep out of sight of anybody else, and I mean anybody. That goes for your RR hands as well. Hear me?"

  "Yeah, an' I guess you're right at that. They sure haven't been much help. But I'll not forget what you've done, a stranger, too."

  "You ride. Forget about me. I've got to get back into Soledad an' get my horse out without excitin' comment. Once I get you where I'm takin' you, nobody will find you."

  He watched the mare start up the road at a fast walk, and then he turned back toward the town.

  He heard shouts and yells, and then a drunken cowhand blasted three shots into the air.

  Ross Haney hitched his guns into place and started down the road for Soledad. He was walking fast.

  Chapter IX

  Baited Trap

  The disappearance of Roily Burt was a nine- day wonder in the town of Soledad and the Ruby Hills. Ross Haney, riding in and out of town, heard the question discussed and argued from every standpoint. Burt had not been seen in Rico or in Pie Town. Nor had any evidence of him been found on the trails.

  No horses were accounted missing, and the search of the Box N cowhands had been fruitless, if intensive. Neither Allan Kinney nor May asked any questions of Ross, although several times he recognized their curiosity.

  The shooting and the frenzied search that followed had left the town abnormally quiet. Yet the rumor was going around that with the end of the coming roundup, the whole trouble would break open once more and be settled, once and for all. For the time being, with the roundup in the offing, both ranches seemed disposed to ignore the feud and settle first things first.

  Second only to the disappearance of Roily Burt was Ross Haney himself as a topic of conversation. He spent money occasionally, and he came and went around Soledad, but no one seemed to have any idea what he was doing, or what his plans were. Curiosity was growing, and the three most curious men were Walt Pogue, Chalk Reynolds, and Star Levitt. There was another man even more curious, and that one was Emmett Chubb.

  It was after the disappearance of Burt that Chubb first heard of Haney's presence in the Ruby Hills. The RR hands ate at one long table presided over by Chalk himself, and Syd Berdue sat always at his right hand.

  "Heard Walt Pogue an' his man Voyle had some words with that Haney," Reynolds said to Berdue. "Looks like he's gettin' this country buffaloed."

  Berdue went white to the lips and had started to make an angry reply when he was cut off by a sudden movement down the table. Emmett Chubb had lunged to his feet. The stocky, hard- faced gunman leaned across the table. "Did you say Haney?" he rasped. "Would that be Ross Haney?"

  "That's right." Reynolds looked up sharply. "Know him?"

  Chubb sat back in his chair with a thud. "I should smile I know him! He's huntin' me!"

  "You?" Reynolds stared. "Why?"

  Chubb shrugged. "Me an' a friend of his had a run-in. You knew him. Vin Carter."

  "Ah? Carter was a friend of Haney's?" Reynolds chewed in silence. "How good is this Haney?"

  "He thinks he's plumb salty. I wouldn't be for knowin', however. Down thataway they sure set store by him."

  A slim, dark-faced cowhand looked up and drawled softly, "I know him, Emmett, an' when you tangle with him, be ready. He's the hombre who went into King Fisher's hideout in Mexico after a horse one of Fisher's boys stole off him. He rode the horse out, too, an' the story is that he made Fisher take water. He killed the hombre who stole his horse. The fellow was a fool halfbreed who went for his gun."

  "So he's chasin' you, Emmett?" Reynolds muttered. "Maybe that accounts for his bein' here."

  "An' maybe he's here because of Vin Carter," Berdue said. "If he is, that spells trouble for Pogue. That won't hurt us any."

  In the days that had followed the escape of Roily Burt, Haney had not been idle. He had thrown and branded several of the wild cattle and had pushed a few of them out into the open valley below Thousand Springs. There would be plenty of time later to bring more of them; all he wanted was for the brand to show up when the roundup was under way.


  Astride the palouse, he headed for the VV. The morning was warm but pleasant, and he rode down into the shade under the giant old cotton woods feeling very fit and very happy. Several of the hands were in sight, and one of them was the slope-shouldered Dahl, mending a saddle girth.

  Bob Vernon saw him, and his brow puckered in a slight frown. He turned and walked toward Ross Haney. "Get down, won't you? Sherry has been telling me something about you."

  "Thanks, I will. Is she here?" His purpose had been to verify, if he could, some of his ideas about that conversation he had seen and she had overheard at the spring. Also, he was curious about the setup at the VV. It was the one place he had not catalogued in his long rides.

  "Yes," Vernon hesitated, "she's here." He made no move to get her. Suddenly he seemed to make a decision. "I say, Haney. You're not coming with the idea of courting my sister, are you? You know she's spoken for."

  "That idea," Haney said grimly, "seems to be one everyone wants to sell me. First heard it from Star Levitt."

  Vernon's lips tightened. "You mean Star talked to you about Sherry?"

  "He did. And Sherry told me she was to marry him."

  Bob Vernon appeared relieved. He relaxed. "Well, then you understand how things are. I wouldn't want any trouble over her. Star's pretty touchy."

  "Understand this." Haney turned sharply around and faced Bob. "I was told that by Levitt and by Sherry. Frankly, the fact that she is engaged to him doesn't make a bit of difference to me. I haven't told that to her, but you're her brother, and I' m tellin' you. You don't need any long-winded explanations about how I feel about her. When I'm sure she's in love with him, I'll keep away. Until then, I'm in to stay!"

  Surprisingly, Vernon did not get angry. He appeared more frightened and worried. "I was afraid of that!" he muttered. "I should have known!"

  "Now, if you won't get her for me, I'll go to the house after her!"

  "After whom?" They turned swiftly to see Sherry walking toward them, smiling. "Hello, Ross. Who were you coming after? Who could ever make your voice sound like that?"

  "You," he said bluntly. "Nobody but you."

  Her smile vanished, but there was warmth in her eyes. "That's nice," she said. "You say it as if you mean it."