"What's happened?" Haney's irritation at Burt's gamble was lost in his eagerness for news.
"Well, Levitt seems to be havin' everythin' his own way. He made Emmett Chubb sheriff and says it's goin' to be necessary to be strict until they rid themselves of the "lawless elements,' which probably means us.
"I talked to Scott, an' he sure wants to see you. Sherry Vernon ain't been seen in town since the fight, an' Bob only once, an' then he came an' hightailed it out of there. Levitt, he sent for outside law."
"He did what?"
"Sent for some outside law. He says he aims to have this Reynolds an' Pogue feud cleared up, an' he wants you caught. Says you're a rustler an' may have had more than a little hand in the killin' at the stock pens. He wants the blame fixed, he says. Also, the story's around," Burt cleared his throat and avoided Haney's eyes, "that there will be a weddin' out at the VV pretty soon."
Ross stared at the fire. So that was it? Now he would marry Sherry Vernon and the W would be his in name as well as in appearances, for once they were married he would know how to handle Bob. If Haney was to do anything, it must be done soon. It must be done now.
"Howsoever, there seems to be some talk around. Syd Berdue ain't happy with the new setup. Kerb Dahl is foreman at the VV, an' Chubb is sheriff. Bob Streeter is foreman on the RR, an' they say Berdue fair raised mischief over that, but Levitt told him he would be taken care of."
"I reckon that's what he's scared of," Mabry said dryly. "I know what I'd do if Star Levitt said I was to be taken care of. I'd either get me a shot at Star or a fast horse out of the country."
"Well, Berdue ain't leavin'. Not willin', anyway. I reckon Star is anxious to have everything looking shipshape for the law when it comes up. They'll be glad to get shut of the trouble anyway, an' if things look pretty, they'll leave them as they be."
Ross pondered the news. Certainly, Levitt's position was good. He was a smooth-talking man with a good outward appearance, and if everything looked settled and calm, the outsiders would go away.
The valley would be safely in Levitt's hands, and Ross Haney would be declared an outlaw and hunted by the forces of the law wherever he happened to appear.
It was, apparently, time to come off the mesa and enter the game once more. Suddenly, he knew just exactly what he was going to do!
"Somethin' else," Burt added, "there's a lot of talk around about those steers of yours. Seems to be a lot of difference of view as to where they come from. No other brands on 'em, but full- growed steers. There's a rumor around that you've had a herd in the hills for some time."
"Roily," Ross said thoughtfully, "there's been some talk about another man on the VV spread. And when I was out there I saw a small cabin off across the wash. You know anything about that?"
"No, I don't know anything at all. There's somethin' mighty peculiar about that cabin, an' none of us ever went near it but Star or Kerb Dahl."
Mabry leaned back against a tree and built a smoke. "Dahl, he acted mighty skittish around that cabin, his own self."
When morning came again to the Ruby Hills, Ross Haney mounted the Appaloosa and started by a winding route toward Soledad. He had no intention of getting there before dark unless it could be managed without his being seen.
After Soledad, he planned to go to the W and bring Sherry away.
While he was about it, he would investigate that mysterious cabin and learn once and for all if it had anything to do with Sherry and her attitude toward Levitt.
The trail he was using was the same used on the previous trips. A trail that lay along a concealed route through the timber, mountain, and chaparral. It was the trail of which he had learned from the same source as had provided the story of the cattle, the lava beds, and the mesa.
This might well be the last time he would travel it, for he needed no additional warning to let him know that every man's hand would be against him in Soledad.
His own position in the valley was a good one, but must be backed by gun power, and he could not match Levitt as to numbers. However, Levitt himself was bringing the law in, and the law outweighed the brute force of any outlaw or the tricks of any criminal working beyond it.
Chapter XIV
Quick on the Draw
Circling around Soledad he cut down through the chaparral to a position on the point of the ragged hills that overlooked the VV. Then, glass in hand, he took a comfortable position where he could watch all movement on the ranch and began a systematic survey of the entire area below.
The isolated cabin he located without trouble. He studied it for a long time, watching for any evidence of life, but found none. The cabin looked bare and lonely, and no smoke came from its small chimney, nor did anyone approach it. Obviously, the cabin held something or someone of great importance to Levitt, or it would not be kept so secret.
After a careful survey of the ranch buildings, he decided the door of the cabin was not actually in view of the ranch house, for that view was cut off by the stable and several large stacks of hay for feeding saddle stock through the winter months.
Kerb Dahl was loitering around the ranch yard, and he was wearing two guns, but no one else was in view. Once, as dusk drew nearer, he saw Bob Vernon come to the door of the house and stare off toward town, but he turned then without coming outside and walked back. But in that moment when he had stood in the door, Dahl had walked hastily forward and stood facing him, for all the world like a prison guard.
The evening faded and the stars came out. From away on the desert a soft wind picked up and began to blow gently. Back over the mountains lay a dark curtain of cloud, black and somber. As he glanced that way, Haney saw its bulging billows darting with sudden lightning, and once, like the whimper of far-off trumpets, he heard the distant sound of thunder.
He waited there, his ears attuned to every sound, his eyes roving over the ranch and all its approaches. On what he saw and heard now his life might depend, for in a matter of minutes he was going down there. Yet aside from the restless roving of Kerb Dahl, there was no evidence of life about the ranch until a light came on. And when that light brightened the windows, Ross got to his feet, brushed the sand from his clothes and stretched.
Then, leading his horse, he came off the hill, concealed from the ranch by the point of the ridge on which he had waited. He took a winding route up a sandy wash toward the ranch, stopping from time to time to listen once more, then moving on. In the shadows back of the stable, he let the horse stand, reins trailing, with a light touch on the shoulder and a whisper of warning. Nothing now but Haney's own shrill whistle would move him from the spot.
Loosening his guns in their holsters, Ross Haney took a deep breath and turned his eyes on the lonely cabin. Then he went down into the gully and started for the cabin door.
Stark and alone on the knoll it stood, a gloomy little building that seemed somehow ominous and strange. Nearby, he crouched in the darkness listening for any sound of movement that might warn him of a possible occupant. Wind whispered around the eaves and from the ranch house itself there came a rattle of dishes, the sound made plain by that cool night air. Here at the cabin, all was silence. The only window was covered with a fragment of sacking, so after a long minute, he moved to the door.
His heart pounded against his ribs, and his mouth felt dry. He paused, flattened against the building, and listened once more. Only the wind made a sound to be heard, a soft soughing that seemed to whisper of the impending rain. The clouds towered in the sky now, higher and closer, and the rumble of thunder was close, like a lonely lion, growling in his chest as he paced his cage.
Carefully, his hand went to the knob. In the darkness the metal seemed strangely chill. His right hand moved back to his gun butt, and then, ever so carefully, he turned the knob.
It was locked.
Gently he released the knob. The pause irritated him. He had built himself to a crisis that was frustration in this most obvious of ways, and the piling up of suspense made him reckless. A
glance toward the ranch assured him he was unobserved and probably could not be seen against the blackness along the cabin wall.
This was a puzzle he must solve, and now was the time. There might never be another.
Behind this locked door might lie the answer to the mystery, and he moved forward suddenly and placed his shoulder against the flimsy panel.
Light streamed from the bunkhouse windows, too. From the ranch, there came only the continuing rattle of dishes and once a loud splash as someone threw water out onto the ground. Taking the knob in his hand he turned it, and then putting his shoulder to the door and digging his feet into the earth, he began to push.
The construction was flimsy. Evidently, whatever was kept here was guarded enough by Dahl and his partner. Haney relaxed and took a deep breath, and then putting his shoulder to the door again, he shoved hard. Something cracked sharply, and he drew back, hand on his gun, waiting and listening.
From within there came no sound. From the ranch, all was normal. He put his shoulder again to the door and heaved, but this time the damage had been done and the door came open so suddenly that he sprawled on hands and knees inside!
Catlike, he wheeled, back to the door and gun in hand. His eyes wide for the darkness, he stared about. The light wind caught the sacking with a ghostly hand and stirred it faintly. Lightning flashed, and the room lay bare before him for an instant. A wooden chair on its side, a worn table with an empty basin, a cot covered with odorous blankets, and against the wall, several stacks of boxes.
Puzzled, Haney crossed to them. They were not heavy. He hesitated to risk the screech of a drawn nail, but by that time he was almost beyond caring. With his fingers, he got a grip on one of the boards that made up the box, and pulled hard. It held, and then as he strained, it came loose. If it made any sound it was lost in the convenient rumble of thunder.
Inside the box there was more sacking and, when that was parted, several round cans, slightly larger and not unlike snuff cans. Lifting one to his nostrils, he sniffed curiously, and from the box came a strange, pungent odor.
"So that's it?" he said. Then he scowled into the darkness. It did not clarify the position of Sherry or her brother. And yet-his heart seemed to go empty within him-maybe it did!
Pocketing several of the boxes, he replaced the boards as well as he could and turned the box so as to conceal the more obvious damage. Then he slipped outside and pulled the door to behind him.
Confused by the unexpected turn of events, he returned to his horse, whispered reassuringly, and then went around the stable toward the house.
Nearby was a window, and he moved up under the trees and looked through into what was the dining room of the ranch house. Three people sat at the table: Bob and Sherry Vernon and, at the head of the table, Star Levitt!
The window was slightly open, and he could hear their voices. Levitt was speaking: "Yes, I think that's the only solution, my dear." His tone was suave, cruel, and decisive. "We shall be married in this house on Monday. You understand?"
"You can't get away with this!" Bob burst out angrily, but the undercurrent of hopelessness in his voice was plain. "It's a devil of a thing! Sherry hates you! What sort of a mind can you have?"
"Sherry will change!" Levitt smiled across the table at her. "I promise you both, she will change. Also, it will be convenient for her to be my wife. She cannot be made to testify against me, and I scarcely believe that with her as my wife you'll care to bring any charges, Bob. Also, I'll have control of this ranch, and as the others are in my hands, the situation is excellent."
"I've a good notion to-" Bob's voice trailed off into sullenness.
"Have you?" Levitt glanced up, his eyes ugly. "Listen, Vernon! Don't give me any trouble! You're in this deeper than I am! You've got murder against you, as well as smuggling! If I'm ever exposed, you know that you and Sherry will both go down with me! What will your precious father think then, with his fine family pride and his bad heart?"
"Shut up!" Bob cried angrily. He leaped to his feet. "If it weren't for Dad, I'd kill you with my bare hands!"
"Really, Bob," Sherry said quietly, "perhaps we should talk this over. I'm not so sure that prison for both of us wouldn't be preferable to being married to Star!"
Levitt's face went white and dangerous. "You're flattering!" he said dryly, striving to retain his composure. "What, I might ask, would have happened to Bob if I hadn't gotten him away from that mess and brought him here? The killing of Clyde Aubury was not any ordinary killing."
Aubury? Ross Haney's brows drew together, and he strained his ears to hear more.
"Yes, I think I should have earned your gratitude," Levitt continued. "Instead, I find you falling for that drifting cowhand."
Sherry Vernon's eyes lifted from her plate. "Star," she said coolly, "you could never understand through that vast ego of yours that Ross Haney is several times the man you could ever have been, even if you hadn't become a thief and a blackmailer of women."
Haney's heart leaped, and his lips tightened. In that instant, he would cheerfully have gone through the window, glass and all, and cheerfully have given his life if it would have helped. Yet even in his elation at her praise of him, he could not but admire her coolness and composure. Her manner was quiet, poised. He stared into the window, his heart pounding. Then she lifted her eyes and looked straight into his!
For an instant that seemed an eternity, their eyes held. In hers he saw hope leap into being and then saw her eyes suddenly masked, and she turned her head, passing something to her brother with an idle comment that ignored Levitt completely.
"Well," she said after a minute, her voice sounding just a tone louder, "everything is all right for the time. At least I have until Monday!"
He drew back. That message was for him, and between now and Monday was a lifetime- three whole days!
Three days in which many things might be done, in which she might be taken from here- in which he might even kill Star Levitt.
For he knew now that was what he would do if the worst came to the worst. He had never yet actually hunted a man down for the purpose of killing him, but he knew that was just what he would do if there were no other way out.
Tiptoeing to the corner of the house, Ross started for the stable and his horse, and then as he stepped past the last tree, a huge cotton- wood, a man stepped out. "Say, you got a match?"
It was Kerb Dahl!
Recognition came to them at the same instant, and the man let out a startled yelp and grabbed for his gun.
There was no time to grapple with the man, no chance for a quick, soundless battle. Too much space intervened, so there was only one chance. Even as Dahl's hand grasped his gun, Haney plucked out his own gun and fired!
Flame stabbed from the muzzle, and then came a second stab of fire. Dahl took a hesitant step forward, his gun half out. Then his gun belched flame, shooting a hole through the bottom of the holster, and Dahl toppled forward on his face.
Behind Dahl the bunkhouse door burst open, and there was a shout from the ranch house itself. As quickly, Ross ducked around the stable and hit the saddle running.
The palouse knew an emergency when he felt one, and he lit out, running like a scared rabbit. A gun barked and then another, but nothing in that part of the country could catch the palouse when he started going places in a hurry, and that was just what he was doing.
On the outskirts of Soledad, with the pounding hoofs of the pursuit far behind, Haney leaped the horse over a gully and took to the desert, weaving a pattern of tangled tracks into a trail where cattle had been driven and then cutting back into the scattered back alleys of Soledad, leaving town a few minutes later, crossing a shale slide and swinging around a butte to hit his old trail for Thousand Springs Mesa.
"Rio, you saved my neck tonight, an' we took a scalp. I'd as soon never take another, but if we have to, let 'em all be hombres like Dahl!"
Yet what was all this about a murder charge against Bob Vernon? And what was thei
r connection with the smuggling and the cans of opium he had found in the cabin? He had known the smell the instant he lifted the can to his nostrils, for it is a smell one does not soon forget. He remembered it from a visit, a few years before, to some of the dives along the Barbary Coast.
And now he must think. Somehow, some way, he must free Sherry from this entanglement, and as a last resort, he would do it, if he must, by facing Star Levitt with a gun!
Chapter XV
Captured
Haney's course was clear. Whatever other plans he might have had must be shelved and the whole situation brought into the open by Monday. Studying the situation carefully, he could see little hope, unless the sheriff and the investigating officers from the outside arrived on Monday. Then, if he could present his case-but Levitt would take every measure to avoid that, and his only chance would be to get into town before time.
On Sunday night, in absolute blackness, the three rode down the back trail toward Soledad. Outside of town they slackened pace. Ross turned in his saddle as Burt and Mabry came up beside him.
He gestured toward the town. "It looks quiet enough. You two leave your horses at May's. Put them in the stable, and I'll leave mine there, too. Then you two either hide out in the stable or get down to the hotel and see Kinney. I'm going direct to Scott, and he'll see Allan for me.
"If the worst comes to the worst, and there is no other way, I'm going gunning for Star. I'd rather die myself than see that girl forced to marry him, or to see him win after all this murder and deceit.
"However, I may give myself up when the sheriff gets here."
Mabry nodded thoughtfully. "Who are these hombres Levitt's bringin' in, Ross? Are they really the law?"
"Yeah. You see, he calls Chubb the sheriff; actually, he's only a town marshal. The county seat is over a hundred miles away by trail, an' there's no deputy up there. Star Levitt is shrewd. He knows that sooner or later some word of this scrap will get out. Somebody, on a stage or somewhere, will talk. The chances are they already have.
the Rider Of Ruby Hills (1986) Page 10