^ 214 THE TRAIL TO SEVEN PINES "What would I hear?" Jaeger asked impatiently. His eyes avoided Hoppy's. "High-Grade closes up at two sharp. By the end of thirty minutes this here town is like a grave." Hopalong's eyes roved about the store, then fell on a box filled with chisels. He picked one up and studied it carefully. Unless he was much mistaken, it was such a chisel that had been used to try to force the window of the High-Grade office. The width was the same, the- He glanced up suddenly and caught the wary, fearful expression in Jaeger's eyes. "Sold a chisel like this lately?" "No." Jaeger fumbled for words. "Can't remember as I have." "Sell one last night? Or have one taken from you?" "No! I was closed last night! I close early! If I had, don't you figure I'd tell you?" "You might, and then again maybe you mightn't. If you did, you'd better tell me." Jaeger was silent, his eyes narrowing, his jaw set stubbornly. "If I did," he said irritably, "it would be my own business! Now, if you aren't wantin' anythin' else, I'll go." "Jaeger"-Hopalong's voice chilled-"I'm a right friendly man. I'd like to stay that way if you let me. From now on, the Rockin' R and the mines will be your big customers, as they used to be. The Gores are goin' to talk mighty small now, and Clarry Jacks is through. You'd better make up your mind where you stand." "And get shot for it?" Jaeger snarled. "Possibly. That's a chance an honest man has to take sometimes. I'll tell you something, Jaeger. If you had a visitor last night, I'm goin' to know it. If you don't tell me, Jaeger, and if you don't side with honest folks, then you better figure on closin' up shop and leavin'." 217 215 LOUIS L'AMOUR Jaeger hesitated, his eyes ugly with hatred. "All right," he said bitterly. "Jacks was here last night. He woke me up, bought ammunition and a new rifle. Then he picked up one of those chisels and told me if I knew what was good for me I'd keep shut about what I heard and saw. Then he tried to bust open a window on the High-Grade but she was nailed shut, so he gave up when some riders came into the street." "Was he alone?" "No, there was two hombres with him. Maybe more. Only one I saw was Dud Leeman. He come in with Jacks and stood by the front window watchin' the street." 'What else did he get?" "Grub and stuff. Quite a lot of it." Jkeger stared at Hopa-long. "That all you want to know?" "Where did he go when he left here?" "How should I know?" Jaeger demanded angrily. "I don't watch folks that come here. I don't know where he went, and I don't want to know. As long as he leaves me alone, I don't care what he does." Hopalong Cassidy walked outside and dropped to a seat on the edge of the walk. Scowling, his hat shoved back on his head, he studied the situation. Wherever Jacks had been, he was evidently on the move now and had something in mind. It was not likely he would leave the country, for he was not the sort to run away. Defeat would rankle, and he would need to win at least a minor victory before leaving, if he left at all. Yet the fact that he had tried to force an entry into the office of the saloon meant that he was not on friendly terms with Pony Harper, and that could account for Harper's very obvious worry. However, what Jacks would need now would be a hiding place, and a new one. Hopalong looked up as a shadow fell across him. It was 218 216 THE TRAIL TO SEVEN PINES Katie. Her face was white and worried. "Hoppy, Con Gore's up at the restaurant. He wants to talk to you." "All right." Hopalong hitched his guns around under his hands. "How'd he act?" "Well, all right, I guess," Katie replied. "At least he didn't seem to be looking for trouble. When I told him I wanted no trouble in my place, he said that was why he chose it, because he didn't think you'd start anything there." Hopalong Cassidy fell in beside the girl, and they walked toward the cafe. Stopping on the walk before the restaurant, Hopalong opened the door carefully with his left hand. He stepped swiftly through the door and faced Gore, who sat at the opposite end of the room. The big hard-faced ex-convict nodded. "Howdy, Cassidy! Come and sit!" Cassidy walked slowly across the room, then drew back a chair and dropped astride of it. "What is it, Con?" The big man hesitated, then looked up, his face flushed with embarrassment. "This here don't set so well some ways, Cassidy," he said, "but I'm makin' peace talk. I don't want any more trouble." "That makes sense," Hopalong agreed. "I don't want any either." Gore was relieved. "You figure that'll go with Ronson?" he asked. "I reckon we were wrong. Windy talked John and me into this scrap. Not that I'm blamin' him. I was just as bad. We figured that, with the Old Man dead, Ronson would quit. He had more sand than we figured on. We asked for trouble and we got it-more than we wanted." "What about your outfit? What about Troy? He's a bad one, Con." "Yeah." Con's lips tightened. "I guess you needn't worry about him. He's out of it." Gore hesitated, then added, "I'm not 219 217 LOUIS L'AMOUR so much. I've done time, and I've killed my man, but when Hank and I had that trouble, Troy had no call to butt in an' shoot him in the back." "What happened?" "Well, I give him his choice. To hit the saddle and slope it, or reach for a gun. He was mighty nasty, but he went and saddled up. Then he grabbed iron when he figured my back was turned. I was watchin' him and-well, I beat him to it." "All right," Hopalong said briefly. "I've talked this over with Ronson. Your cattle can run east of the Blues-and west of them, as long as you acknowledge that they are on Rockin' R range. The only thing we don't go for, Con, is someb ody tryin' to shove us off. There's water and grass for all, but it's got to be for all. That clear?" Gore was relieved. "Sure is, an' mighty fair. I always did hear you was fair and square." He shoved back his chair and got up. Hopalong watched as Gore walked away. That was an issue well closed, but there was still Clarry Jacks, and he was the worst of them all-the man really to be feared. That such was the case was obvious from the actions of Pony Harper. If ever Hopalong had seen a man driven by worry and fear, it was Harper. The man had no stamina, no real courage. He was a big, smooth, easy-talking man, the kind who could plan, think, and weave a plot, and one who would not hesitate at murder if it could be done without danger to himself, but there was no real bottom to the man. He was an empty shell. Behind him Clarry Jacks loomed like something bigger, stronger, more dangerous. In gun skill the fellow definitely ranked among the best, but there was that something else about him that disturbed Hoppy.
I 220 218 THE TRAIL TO SEVEN PINES That Jacks was insane, he had not guessed, although he had wondered a little. That Jacks had no plan to leave the country was obvious from his actions, for he could have been long gone by now. Hoppy went to the kitchen and refilled his cup of coffee and took it to a table where Harrington sat. The mining man looked up. "Howdy, Hoppy! Sit down, will you?" 'Teah." Hoppy tried his coffee and placed the cup back on the table. "Clarry Jacks was in town last night." Harrington's eyes were startled. "In town? Here?" "Uh-huh. You know this country well?" "Sure. Lived here as a kid, then went back east to school. I worked around the country, then finally came back. What's on your mind?" "Jacks. Nobody'll be safe as long as he's around. I don't like huntin' a man, but he's mean and he isn't leavin' the country." "Lock will find him." "In time, but there isn't much time. Harper's scared of every movement now. He jumps when he sees his shadow. Rawhide walks like he was on eggshells. What I want to know, where could a man hide? He's got grub, he's got ammunition, but he'll need water and a place where he can't be stumbled into. My guess would be he isn't far from here." "You know most of the water holes yourself." Harrington rubbed his jaw. The fact that Jacks was alive and around worried him. He needed money and was planning a big shipment. "North of here, the Rockin' R outfit has the range well covered; he'd never find a hideout there. South, the country is too open, and there are too many passes through the mountains and too much travel. East is the country you know, the ruins of the Patch, Unionville, Star City." 221 219 LOUIS L'AMOUR "He was up in there," Hopalong said. "I think he's left those mountains for some place closer. My idea is that he's plannin' a strike. What about west of here?" "Well," Harrington said slowly, "there's the Black Sand Desert, narrow to the northwest, not any water until you get across." "Too far. What about further south?" Harrington studied the problem. "Due west of here," he said, "are the lava beds. I don't know. You couldn't walk a hundred yards into them without risk. There's lava rock bubbles- thin as glass, some of them. A wrong step and
you go right through. And the rock is sharp as razors. Cut a man's shoes to nothing." "No water?" "Yes, there's water on the edge. East and just a shade north of here, there's a spring. Follow the edge of the beds and you couldn't miss it. So far as anybody knows, there's nothing back there. The stretch is about ten miles along and two to three miles wide, with some good peaks among 'em." After Harrington had gone, Hopalong sat over his second cup and studied the situation. The more he considered it, the more he thought the lava beds were the place. A man could always come out of them for water, or there might be water back inside. Down in New Mexico there were some lava beds, with numerous little hollows where there was water, grass, and even trees, although a man might wander for days and never find even one of them if he did not know where to look. Such a place, if one existed in this lava bed, would make an ideal hideout. The next morning Hopalong was not surprised to find Ben Lock sitting over a cup of coffee at Katie Regan's. 222
I *«M 220 THE TRAIL TO SEVEN PINES "Shorty was right," he said. "They were at the High Card mine but they pulled out days ago." Hopalong strolled closer and sat down. "I've got an idea. Want to hear it?" "Anything. I'm fresh out." Ben grinned at Katie as she refilled his cup. "Reckon my time's short around here," Ben said. "You ever think about livin' in the mountains, Katie?" "It wouldn't be a bad place to live," Katie agreed noncommittally. "I've thought about a lot of places." "When I come back from this hunt, I reckon I'm goin' home. Maybe I'll be goin' alone, maybe not." Hopalong grinned as he lifted his cup, and he caught Katie looking at him suspiciously. He winked, then said, "Nobody ought to be alone in the mountains. Not for long, anyway. A man needs company." "What are you two gettin' at?" Katie demanded, concealing her smile. "Talkin" in riddles." She started for the kitchen, then hesitated. "Anybody who has any ideas about livin' in the mountains should start for them right soon. A man can wait too long. He can go to the well too often." 223 221 CHAPTER 13 Finish Fight 222 .F from the kitchen came the sputter of eggs in the pan. Hopa-long studied Lock. He was a clean-cut, handsome young man under his stubble of beard. His clothes were worn but clean, and he had gravely humorous gray eyes that regarded the world with a thoughtful amusement and understanding. Katie, he reflected, could do a lot worse. "What's on your mind?" Lock demanded. "Was it about Jacks?" Hopalong explained the theory he had concocted from his talk with Harrington. "Now," he added, "it may be a wild guess, but he might be there. My idea is to ride over and see what's what. But there may be some hombres friendly to him around town, so we'd better be mighty careful and not leave town together." Hopalong Cassidy took the trail to the Rocking R, but only three miles out of town the trail dropped into a gulch, and Hopa- 226 223 THE TRAIL TO SEVEN PINES long took this opportunity to turn the gelding up the bank and into the junipers. From there he angled under cover of the trees, across a long slope to the crest of the ridge, going over it swiftly and descending into a hollow beyond. At the head of steep-walled Mule Canyon there was a perfect view of the lava beds, which were not five miles away. Heat waves danced in the air, but from this altitude, with his glass, a fair view of the black sea of lava could be had. Several peaks towered above the lava, their shoulders black with it, but they gave promise of water within the beds themselves. From this distance the area looked black and gloomy, and Hopalong could well understand the feelings of the people who avoided the beds. Moreover, there could be no earthly reason for anyone approaching them, which would be all the better for Clarry Jacks. Ben Lock was waiting for him at the mouth of Mule Canyon. He got to his feet, grinning, as Hoppy rode up. "Made it, I see." He jerked his head over his shoulder toward the lava beds. "Miserable-lookin' place. I reckon we're goin' to find our man." "Likely." Hopalong squatted by the small fire Lock had built. The dry sticks of greasewood made no smoke. "Move across tonight and hide out somewhere on the edge of the bed." "Yeah. They'll be watchin' by day." Lock looked quizzically at Hoppy. "That Katie's quite a gal, ain't she?" Hopalong chuckled. "Well, she makes the best coffee around here. If I were you I'd stake that claim quick." Lock scowled. "I hear Shorty's pretty thick with her." "A man can hear anything!" Hoppy turned his head toward the strip of blackness that was the lava beds. "Pay no attention." The day drew on and the sun lowered itself in a great red ball above the lava beds. The shadows grew long and the sunlight faded and left purple mountains behind. A nighthawk swept 227 224 LOUIS L'AMOUR by, darting swiftly about in pursuit of some insect. Hopalong got up and saddled Topper. "Give it twenty minutes," he said, "with the background of these mountains, and they couldn't see us until we were well out in the open." At last they moved out, neither man in a talkative mood. The first stars were appearing before they had gone a mile, and for luck Hopalong changed course suddenly, heading farther north. If they had been seen and it was believed they were headed for the lava beds, the change of course would make it impossible for a trap to be laid for them. At a few minutes before ten o'clock they watered their horses at the spring, then withdrew them into a grassy notch in the lava, where they were partly concealed. Lock clambered up on the lava and stared off across the waste. It was wild and lonely, impossibly beautiful, like some landscape on the moon. Jagged ridges of lava, then rolling swells like a vast ocean frozen into instant rigidness. No tree, no shrub, no blade of grass, only the rolling, dull black rock, yet edged and spined like broken glass. Lock stared gloomily over the lava, remembering Jesse. Jesse had always loved the wild country. Then he was shot down when his life was scarcely begun! Behind him Cassidy mounted the rock, and they stood together, the comforting of the hard-bitten gunfighter sensed only in his quiet presence. "They'll be here," Cassidy said, nodding. "Somewhere out there they've found a spot. We know that Jacks is really Vasco Graham and that he ran through this country with Dakota Jack, who knew it better than the Piutes." Ben Lock nodded, looking into the distance. "Yeah, but where?" Hopalong nodded towa rd the nearest peak. "We'll try that 228 225 THE TRAIL TO SEVEN PINES area. There'll be drainage off that peak, perhaps some subirrigation. At the foot of the mountain there'll be water, the chances are. Anyway, it's a place to start." Lock lifted his hand suddenly. "Listen!" Hopalong listened for a long moment, and then the shrill yapping of a coyote sounded someplace behind them, and then, faint and far away, the blows of an ax! "It's out there," he agreed. "They must have wood, but where would they get it back in there? Could be a water hole and some trees." "Yes." Lock threw down his cigarette. "Hoppy," he said quietly, "a man never knows what comes next. Perhaps I'm slated to get mine this time. Those boys are rugged. If anything happens to me, you get that Jacks for me, will you?" "Somebody's got to," Hopalong agreed. "The man's runnin' mad." "And tell Katie-" Ben's voice slowed and stopped. Then he shrugged. "Aw, the dickens with it! I'll tell her myself!" Cassidy chuckled. "Sure. I knew that." Lock looked at the gunfighter curiously. "Hoppy, don't you ever worry about cashin' in? You don't show it." Hopalong shrugged. "I reckon not. When it comes it will come. I don't think about this fate business. I just ride along, take no chances I don't have to take, and what happens will happen." The morning sun was a pale half-moon over the lava beds when their fire was warming. Lock put coffee on, and Hopalong wandered out into the desert to pick up some dried bits of greasewood and juniper. The smell of the fire was good, and the coffee was better. Lock rubbed the sleep from his eyes and shivered against the 229 226 LOUIS L'AMOUR morning chill. "Got to be a way in there," he said. "We'll have to scout for it." Hopalong considered the situation. "No telling which way it'll be, either. This lava could have stopped anywhere. Looks like the flow was split by one of those peaks, so there could be an open space between the two halves. Might be only a few feet wide; mightn't be there at all. It's durned treacherous stuff, too. There's bubbles in it. The top is thin as an eggshell, some of 'em. You step on one and the next thing you're lyin' in the got tom of a hole and nobody is goin' to find you. You'll have to carry a stick and tap on the rock with it. See if she sounds hollow."I "They never crossed the lava." "Maybe not, but if we slip up on 'em, we might have to." While
Lock saddled the horses Hoppy kicked out the fire and obliterated all signs of it. He mounted, then turned. "You ride north," he said, "and I'll head south. If you find an opening, step out in the desert and set up a cairn. I'll do the same." Ben Lock mounted. "Okay. Luck!" he said, and moved away along the swell of the lava. Hopalong turned south. The lava here was a wall, like a lofty parapet with black blocks and cubes of lava rock scattered at its base. Then this wall gave way to a black swell like a frozen wave, corrugated and cruel. For over an hour he drifted along, and when about to give up and start north, he saw the print of a huge paw. Dropping from his white horse, he studied it and the other prints he could see. It was the track of a mountain lion, and it was heading right back into the lava! Following on foot, Hopalong trailed the big cat back into a notch that finally seemed to end in a small clump of juniper. Pushing through it, Hopalong saw that here there was a space between the flows of lava that seemed to go deep inside. Re 230 227 THE TRAIL TO SEVEN PINES turning, he built his cairn and then led Topper through the junipers after him. The track of the lion was steady along the narrow path, and knowing the nature of the big cat, Hopalong knew it was going to a den. There was no possibility of prey back in these wilds, and only a den or water would lead it into the wasteland. There was no evidence that any other living creature had ever advanced along this trail. For a half hour he followed the trail, but then it suddenly began to slant steeply down and he saw the green tops of pines. In a hollow that barely had room for his horse to turn he picketed the animal; then, lying down, he wormed over the lava toward the treetops. Below him lay a bowl-like depression no more than three acres in extent and walled around with pines. A few scattered trees through the center and, against the far wall, a half-ruined rock house. A stream of water trickled from a crack in the rock, a formation of limestone and sandstone around which the lava had flowed, leaving behind the walled-in space where the grass was rich and green, the trees tall. Five horses grazed nearby, and as he watched, Hopalong saw a man come from the rock house and throw out a pan of water. It was Dud Leeman. Returning to the break in the flow across which he had come, Hopalong worked his way back up it until he arrived at the bowl he had seen from above. It ended among a jumble of rocks and a dense growth of manzanita and pine. He took a step forward and heard a low snarl of warning. Turning his head, he saw the mountain lion crouched on a rock above him and to his left. The cat was big. He could see only the head and shoulders, but they were sufficient to tell him that the cat was one of the largest he had ever seen. With its ears lying back, it stared at him from green, malignant eyes, then snarled, showing its fangs. 231 228 LOUIS L'AMOUR He stood flat-footed and stared at it. A mountain lion will rarely attack a man. Yet this one might consider himself cornered and, in such a case, would most certainly fight. A shot would warn Jacks, and then it would be a bitter fight for his life against three outlaws as well as the cat. He waited, his gun in his hand. The cat snarled again and seemed in doubt what to do. Hopalong stood perfectly still, giving the cat neither the invitation of retreat nor the fear of advance. After a moment the cat rose from its crouch and then, after a long look, drew back and disappeared. Hopalong let go a heavy sigh of relief. He worked his way through the trees within easy shooting distance of the house. He knew the range of his own gun and knew there wasn't a point in that three acres he could not cover, but he wanted to be close up. Duck Bale came out of the house and walked directly toward him, then stooped to pick up an armful of wood. Some sixth sense must have warned him because he looked up. "If you yell, Duck, I'll drill you!" Hopalong spoke softly. Bale's flappy lips twisted. "Say, who-is it?" "This is Cassidy-Red River Regan to you. Do like I say and you won't get hurt." For an instant the outlaw stared at him, and then behind them a door slammed and a voice called out, "Duck! What's happened to you?" From across the bowl a voice rang out: "Come out with your hands up, Dud! I want Jacks!" Duck Bale hurled himself to one side and came up with a gun in his hand just as the bowl crashed and thundered with gunfire. Unseeing, Hopalong was staggering back. A shot from nowhere had struck the tree beside him and splattered his face 232 229 THE TRAIL TO SEVEN PINES and eyes with fragments of bark. Hopalong shoved his gun back into his holster and rolled over on the ground, pawing at his stinging eyes, rolling to get under the brush and into some partial shelter. A shot kicked dust in his face, another ricocheted wildly off through the trees. Then he got his eyes opened and rolled behind a log. Suddenly there was no sound. Then the silence was broken by Bale's wild shout. "I got Cassidy! I killed Hopalong!" "Shut up!" The voice was cold. "I slung that shot from the door!" Hopalong felt a cold shiver of eagerness go over him. That was Jacks! He climbed slowly to his feet. From tree to tree he moved through the pines toward the clearing. "How many were there?" That was Dud's voice. "Two, I reckon. Well, with Cassidy down, the other one won't be so tough," Bale answered. "Let's get him." "Wait." Clarry Jacks's voice sounded strange. "Maybe there are more." "Only two shot," Dud said. "You sure you got Cassidy?" "I saw him fall," Bale said. "He went down hard." Lock, Cassidy realized, could probably hear all that was said. He would now believe Cassidy dead and would be working out some plan to handle all three of the outlaws. That he would never leave without a try at Clarry Jacks, Hopalong knew. As the bowl was small, whatever he did, Lock was sure to hear. "Other one took out," Leeman said suddenly. "I'm havin' a look." Belligerently, he started for the pines across the bowl. Hop-along saw Duck Bale stare uneasily after him, but Clarry Jacks turned abruptly and started toward the woods. Then he disappeared among the trees. 233 230 LOUIS L'AMOUR Hopalong waited, trying to locate Lock and to understand what the man had in mind. There was no sound from across the basin, but then, close at band, a twig cracked! Silence, and then the sound of walking-not of creeping, but calm, easy walking, as if by a man out for a stroll, the sound of boots that stepped without fear, even with indifference. Riveted, caught up by the spell of the moment, gripped in an iron band of suspense, he waited, watching an opening in the trees. There was something peculiar about the sound of those steps, something that did not seem quite natural. "Cassidy!" The voice was from behind him!
L'Amour, Louis - Hopalong 03 - The Trail To Seven Pines Page 16