"Take a tip from me. Take what cash you've got, load up some supplies, and get out of here-but fast."
"An' leave my store?" Leathers wailed. "What do you mean?"
"What I say." Kilkenny's voice was harsh. "There's going to be some doin's in this town before another day. Hale's riders are comin' back, an' Cub Hale will be leadin' 'em. You know how much respect he has for property or anythin'. If he doesn't clear you out, the Hatfields will. There's no place for you in Cedar anymore. We want to build from the ground up here, an' we want men who'll fight for what they believe. You won't, an' you were against us, so get out!"
He walked back down the silent street, went into the saloon and stored his grub. Despite himself, he was worried. The morning was early yet, and he was expecting some of the Hale riders, and soon. The longer he waited, the more worried he became.
Brigo needed medical attention, and Doc Pollard, the Hale henchman, had gone to the Hale ranch. He was little better than useless, anyway.
Seated at a table he riffled the cards, and the sound was loud in the room. No one moved in the deserted street, and he played silently, smoking endless cigarettes and waiting.
Again and again his thoughts returned to Nita. After all, should he wait? Supposing he was killed eventually? Why not have a little happiness first? He knew without asking that she was the girl for him, and he knew she would marry him in an instant and be completely happy to live in a house built among the high peaks.
She was lovely, tender, thoughtful. A man could ask no more of any woman than she had for the giving. Yet he remembered the faces of other gunmen's wives when word came that their men had died. He remembered their faces when their men went down into the streets, when they waited through every lonely hour, never sure whether he would come back or not.
Bartram had Sally Crane. He remembered her sweet, youthful face, flushed with happiness. It made him feel old and lonely.
He slipped his guns out and checked them once more.
Then he took up the cards and shuffled them again. Suddenly an idea came to him. He got up and went to the back door, took a quick look around, and slipped out to the stable. There were still horses there.
He had a hunch he might need them, and saddled two.
Then he went back inside and closed the door.
The place was deathly still and the air close and hot. It felt like a storm was impending. He brushed the sweat from his brow and crossed to have a look at Brigo. The big man was sleeping, but his face was flushed and feverish. He looked bad.
He glanced out the door at the empty street. Clouds were building up around the peaks. If it rained, it was going to make it tough to move Jaime Brigo. Thunder rumbled like a whimper of far-off trumpets and then deeper like a rolling of gigantic casks along the floor of a cavern. He walked back inside and sat down.
Chapter XIX
This Is the Test
They came down the dusty street at high noon, a tight little cavalcade of men expecting no trouble. They rode as tired men ride, for there was dust on their horses and dust on their clothing and dust on their wide-brimmed hats. It was only their guns that had no dust.
There was no humor in them, for they were men for whom killing was the order of business. The softer members of the Hale outfit were gone. These were the pick of the tough, gun- handy crew.
Lee Wright was in the lead, riding a blood bay. At his right and a bit behind, was Jeff Nebel, and a bit behind him were gunslick Tandy Wade and Kurt Wilde. There were ten in all, ten tough, gun-belted men riding into Cedar Bluff when the sun was high.
Dunn and Ravitz had not returned. What that meant, they could not know, nor did they care. They had come to get a woman, and if Dunn and Ravitz had decided to keep her, these men would take her away. If those two had failed in their mission, they were to take her from the protection of Brigo. They had their orders and they knew what to do.
Near Leathers' store the group broke, and three men rode on down to the Crystal Palace. Lee Wright, big, hard-faced and cruel, was in the lead. With him were Kurt Wilde and Tandy Wade.
His eyes slanting up the street at the scattering men, Kilkenny let the three come on. When they reined in and were about to swing down, Kilkenny stopped them.
"Hold it!" he said sharply. "What do you want, Wright?"
Wright froze and then settled back in the saddle. "Who is that?" he demanded, peering to see under the darkness of the sheet-metal awning and into the vagueness of the doorway.
"It's Kilkenny," he said. "What do you want?"
"We've come for that woman. Cub wants her," Wright said harshly. "What are you doin' here?"
"Me?" Kilkenny chuckled quietly. His eyes were cold and watchful. He knew these men were uncertain. They hadn't expected him. Now they did not know what the situation was. How many men were inside? Was Brigo there? The Hatfields? Kilkenny knew their lack of knowledge was half his strength. "Why, I've been waitin' for you boys to show up! Wanted to tell you that I'd slope, if I were you. The Hales are through."
"Are they?" Wright's eyes swept the building. Those boarded windows bothered him. "We came after the woman. We'll get her."
Kilkenny began building a smoke. "With only ten men? It ain't enough, Wright." He touched his tongue to the paper. "You're a fightin' man, Wright. Ever try to take a place like this with no more men than you got?"
"You're bluffin'!" Wright said. "You're alone."
Kilkenny chuckled. "You reckon I'd come down here alone? Or that the Hatfields would let me? They are right careful of me, Wright."
"Where are they?" Wright declared. "You-" The words died on his lips as there was a tinkle of glass from down the building. Wright looked, and Kilkenny saw his face darken. It could mean but one thing. Brigo had gotten out of bed and thrust a rifle through the window at the right moment.
But how long could he stand there? The man was weak-Kilkenny laughed. "Well, you can start comin' any time you want, Wright, but a lot of you boys are goin' to die for nothin'. If you think Hale can pay off now, you're wrong."
Kurt Wilde had been sitting quietly. Now he exploded suddenly. "To hell with this! Let's go in there!" He jumped his horse to one side and grabbed for his gun.
Kilkenny's hand swept down, and his gun was barking before it reached belt high. The first shot cut the rearing horse's bridle at the bit and whined off into the street. The second took Wilde in the shoulder and knocked him sprawling into the dust.
At the same instant, Brigo fired, and Tandy Wade's horse backed up suddenly and went down. Wade leaped clear and sprinted with Lee Wright for the shelter of the nearest building. From up the street, there was a volley of shots, but Kilkenny was safely inside.
With one quick look, he dodged away from the door and ran to Brigo in the other room. The big man's face was deathly pale, and his movements had started his wounds bleeding.
"Lie down, damn it!" Kilkenny commanded. "You did your part. You fooled 'em. Now he down!"
"No, Senor, not when you fight."
"I can hold 'em now. Lie down an' rest till I need you. When they rush, I'll need help."
Brigo hesitated and then sank back on the bed. From where he lay he could see through a crack in the boards without moving. Lance grabbed a box of shells and dropped them on the bed beside him and handed him another rifle. Then he went back and made a round of the loopholes. He fired from one, skipped one, and fired from the next. He made the rounds, hunting for targets, but trying to keep the shots mixed so they would be in doubt.
Wilde was getting up. Kilkenny watched him, letting him go. Suddenly the man wheeled and blasted at the door, and Brigo, lying on his bed, drilled him through the chest!
"One down!" Kilkenny told himself, "an' nine to go!"
He was under no illusions. They could trade shots for a while, and he could fool Wright and the Hale riders for a few hours, perhaps. But they were much too shrewd to be fooled for long. Sooner or later they would guess, and then under cover of an attack from one direction, they
would drive from the other, and the whole thing would end in a wicked red-laced blasting inside the Palace.
Kilkenny found a good place near a window where he could watch up the street toward Leathers' store. The dusty street was empty. He waited, and suddenly he saw a man slip around the corner of the store and dart for the door. He fired quickly, twice.
The first shot hit the man about waist high, but on the outside and probably near his holster. He staggered, and Kilkenny fired again and saw the fellow go to one knee. He crawled through the door. The first shot had not been a disabling one, he was sure, but the second, when he aimed at the thigh, had brought the man down.
He got up restlessly and started for the back of the saloon. There was no movement, but when he moved to the door, a bullet clipped the doorjamb right over his head, and had he not been crouched, it would probably have been dead center. No chance to get to the horses then, not by day, anyway. The afternoon wore on, and there were only occasional shots.
They came with a rush finally.
It had been quiet. Then suddenly a volley blasted at the back of the store. Taking a chance, Kilkenny rushed to the front just in time to see a half dozen men charging across the street. He dropped his rifle, whipped out both guns, and leaped into the doorway.
His first shot was dead center, a bullet fired from the hip that hit the Hale man and knocked him rolling. His guns roaring and blasting, he smelled the acrid smell of gunpowder, felt a red-hot whip laid across his cheek, and knew he'd been grazed. Then he blasted again, felt a gun go empty, and still triggering the first gun, jerked out his belt gun and opened up again.
They fell back, and he saw two men were down. He knew neither of them. His cheekbone was burning like fire and he lifted a hand. It came away bloody. He sopped the wound with his handkerchief and then dropped it and began reloading his guns. This time he brought the shotgun up to the door and stuffed his pockets with shotgun shells. The waiting was what got a man. He didn't want to wait. He wanted to go out there.
There was no firing now. The attacking party was down to seven, and one of those was wounded. They would hesitate a little now. And he still had the shotgun. That was his payoff weapon. He knew what it would do to a man and hated to use it. At close range a shotgun wouldn't just make a wound. It would blast a man in two.
He showed himself at a window and got no action. He could hear loud voices in the Leathers store. There was some kind of an argument. After all, what had they to gain? Suddenly, Kilkenny had an idea. He wheeled and went into the bedroom. Brigo was lying on the bed, breathing hoarsely. He looked terrible.
"Lie still an' watch," Kilkenny said. "I'm goin' out."
"Out?" Brigo's eyes fired. "You after them?"
"Si. With this." he touched the shotgun. "They are all in Leathers' store. I'm goin' to settle this once an' for all."
He went to the door, for a long time he studied the terrain. He was worried. Price Dixon should be here by now. The Hale men. probably knew he had joined Kilkenny and the Hatfields, so if he came back they would shoot him. And if Jaime Brigo was to live he would need Dixon's attention.
Kilkenny waited. The sun was making a shadow under the awning, even if not much of a one. He eased outside, listening to the loud voices, and then he left the porch with a rush.
There was no shot. He got to the side of Leathers' store. From here it was four good steps to the door, and there was no window to pass. He stepped up on the porch, knowing that if they had a man across the street he was a gone gosling.
He took another step and waited. Inside, the voices continued, and he could hear Lee Wright's voice above all the others. "Cub'11 pay off, all right. If he don't, we can always take some cows ourselves!"
"Blazes!" somebody said disgustedly. "I don't want any cows! I want money! An'," he added, "I want out of this with a whole skin!"
"Personally," a voice drawled, "I don't see no percentage in gettin' a hide full of lead because some other hombre wants a woman. I'll admit that Riordan gal is somethin' to look at, but I think if she wanted to have a Hale, she'd take one. I think the gal's crazy for this Kilkenny, an' for my money she's got the best of the lot."
"What's it to you, Tandy?" Wright demanded. "Hale's got the money. He pays us. Besides, that Kilkenny figgers he's too durned good."
Tandy laughed. "Why, Lee, I reckon if you'd go out there an' tell him you wanted a shootout, he'd give it to you."
"Say!" Wright jumped to his feet. "That's it! That's the way we'll get him. I'll go out and challenge him. Then when he comes out, pour it into him."
There was a moment of silence, but Kilkenny was just outside the screened door now. "Lee, that sure is a polecat's idea. You know durned well I wouldn't have no part of that. I'm a fightin' man, not a murderer."
"Tandy Wade, someday you'll-!" Wright began, angrily.
"Suppose," Kilkenny said, "that I take over from here?"
Wright froze, his mouth open, his face slowly turning white. Only Tandy turned, and he turned very slowly, keeping his hands wide. He looked at the double-barrelled shotgun for just an instant.
"Well, Kilkenny," he said softly, "I reckon that shotgun calls my hand."
"Shotgun?" Wright gasped. Kilkenny let him turn. He knew how ugly a double-barrelled shotgun can seem when seen at close quarters.
"Buckshot in it, too," Kilkenny said lazily. "I might not be able to get more'n four or five of you hombres. Might be even one or two, but I'm sure goin' to get them good. Who wants a hot taste of buckshot!"
Wright backed up, licking his lips. He didn't want any trouble now. You could see it in his eyes that he knew that shotgun was meant for him, and he didn't want any part of it.
"Leathers!" Kilkenny's voice cracked like a whiplash. "Come around here and get their guns. Slap their shirts, too. I don't want any sneak guns."
The storekeeper, his face dead white, came around and began lifting the guns, and no one said a word. When the guns were collected and all laid at Kilkenny's feet, he stood there for a moment looking at the men.
"Wright, you wanted to trick me an' kill me. Didn't you!"
Lee Wright's eyes were wide and dark in the sickly moon of his face. "I talked too much," he said, tight-lipped, "I wouldn't of had nerve enough for that."
"Well-"
There was a sudden rattle of horses' hoofs in the street, and Kilkenny saw Lee Wright's eyes brighten, but as he looked at Kilkenny his face went sick.
"Careful, Lee!" Kilkenny said quietly. "Don't get uneasy. If I go, you go with me."
"I ain't movin," Wright said hoarsely. "For heaven's sake, don't shoot!"
Chapter XX
The Last Menace
Now the horses were walking. They stopped before the Crystal Palace. Kilkenny dared not turn. He dared not look. Putting a toe behind the stack of guns, he pushed them back. Then, still keeping his eyes on the men, he dragged them back further. Then he waited.
Sweat came out on his forehead, and he felt his mouth go dry. They could slip up and come in. They could just walk up. And he dared not turn, or one of these men would leap and have a gun. His only way out was to go out fighting.
Looking at the men before him, he could see what was in their minds. Their faces were gray and sick. A shotgun wasn't an easy way to die, and once that gun started blasting, there was no telling who would get it. And Kilkenny, with an empty shotgun, was still closer to the guns on the floor than they were.
The flesh seemed to crawl on the back of Kilkenny's neck, and he saw Wright's tongue feeling his dry lips. Only Tandy Wade seemed relaxed. The tension was only in his eyes. Any moment now might turn this room into a bloody bit of hell. The shotgun was going to- A door slammed at the Crystal Palace.
Had Brigo passed out? There was no sound, but Kilkenny knew someone was crossing the dusty space between the buildings. He was drawing closer now. The sound of a foot on the boardwalk made them all jump. Suddenly Leathers slipped to the floor in a dead faint. Tandy looked down, amusedly, and then lifted
his eyes as a board creaked.
Any moment now. When that door opened, if a friendly voice didn't speak--
The door creaked just a little. That was only when it opened wide. Kilkenny remembered that door. He had eased through a crack himself. He lifted the shotgun slightly, his own face gray.
Suddenly he knew that if this was Cub Hale he would turn this store into a shambles. He, Kilkenny, was going to go out taking a bloody dozen with him. He had these guns, and if the first shot didn't get him he wasn't going alone. He clicked back the hammers.
"No!" He didn't know who spoke. "No, Kilkenny! My God, no!"
These men who could stand a shootout with perfect composure were frightened and pale at the gaping muzzles of the shotgun.
"Kilkenny?" The voice was behind him, and it was Parson Hatfield.
"Yeah, Parson. I got me a few restless hombres here."
Hatfield came in, and behind him were Bartram and Steve Runyon. "Where's Cub?" Parson demanded sharply.
"He cut off for the ranch. He figured Dunn would have the girl there."
"We didn't find him," Parson said. "He must've stopped off on the way. Hale shot his- self."
"He did?" Kilkenny turned. "What happened at the place?"
"She was plumb deserted," Runyon offered. "Not a soul around. Looks as if they all deserted like rats from a sinkin' ship. He was all alone, an' when he seen us comin', he shot hisself."
"What happened then?" Kilkenny asked.
"We set fire to the place. Too big for any honest rancher. It's burnin' now."
"What happens to us?" Tandy demanded.
Kilkenny looked at them for a minute, but before he could speak, Parson spoke up. "We want Jeff Nebel an' Lee Wright. They done murdered Miller, Wilson, an' Lije. They got Smithers, too. Jeff Nebel killed him. An' they was in on the killin' of Dick Moffitt. We got a rope for 'em!"
"Take them, then," Kilkenny said. He looked at Tandy Wade. "You're too good a man to run with this owlhoot crowd, Wade. You better change your ways before they get a rope on you. Get goin'!"
the Rider Of Ruby Hills (1986) Page 37