Rawhide Justice

by Ralph Hayes

  ‘That will work,’ he said to himself.

  ‘I heard about you and McComb,’ Cahill told him. ‘Navarro was talking to a confidant.’

  ‘It ain’t nothing,’ O’Brien said. ‘McComb is cow pucky with a loud mouth.’

  ‘McComb is cow pucky with a gun,’ Cahill corrected him. ‘Listen, partner. I heard a couple of things. Walcott doesn’t know it but McComb is wanted in three states in the south for murder and rape. He ain’t somebody to get crossways of. He might just find an excuse to shoot you dead some dark night.’

  ‘I don’t think it will get to that,’ O’Brien said.

  ‘Just the same, I wish you’d go armed,’ Cahill fretted.

  O’Brien looked over at him. ‘I never carried iron and I won’t start because of some lowlife like McComb.’

  ‘Then take your Winchester when you’re in the Conestoga and other places. That would be something.’

  O’Brien smiled at his concern. ‘Look, partner. I know you like it here. But I might not be here much longer.’

  Cahill frowned. ‘Because of McComb?’

  ‘Hell, no. I reckon I don’t like company shooting, after seeing it up close. With up to five hundred buffs killed in one shoot it will all play out pretty fast with these methods. It’s all too efficient. Companies even tanning their own hides now. Just a few years back, when I first come out here, I rode one day from Fort Hays to Fort Supply through buffalo all day. Already that’s a thing of the past.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘And that ain’t all of it. The Lakota won’t kill a calf. Or a young cow to preserve the herd for further hunting in the future. I see two calves down on that last hunt, and Walcott didn’t seem to care.’

  ‘Even the small hides will bring thirty dollars,’ Cahill said. ‘And that’s what Walcott is geared to.’

  ‘Well, I’ll try to last it out a while. Me, I think I’d like to do some still shooting. On my own, or maybe with a partner. Crawl up close as possible on your belly and then start shooting from one position. Knocking off as many as you can before they realize what’s happening. It needs real shooting know-how, of course. But you don’t expose yourself or your mount to as much danger from stampeding.’

  Cahill looked over at him. That was more talking than O’Brien had done in a week. He had obviously given the subject some thought.

  ‘I think I could like that way.’

  ‘It’s real hunting,’ O’Brien said. ‘Next thing, the companies will be out there with Gatling guns.’ He shook his head. ‘I’d get me a Sharps .500. Hit a bull in the eye at a quarter-mile. I hear they got tripods now.’

  ‘You been thinking on this quite a little.’

  O’Brien shrugged. ‘It buzzes in my head sometime.’

  The next day at midday Walcott announced that another herd had been spotted, north and east of them. They would ride out the following day.

  That evening O’Brien rode into town alone, to get a spur repaired by the local blacksmith. On his way back to HQ, he saw Molly Walcott standing in her yard, picking an early rose for a vase inside the house. She looked up and saw him, and he reined in. The appaloosa guffered quietly.

  ‘Hello, O’Brien. I knew you’d come by again.’ She smiled widely. Her blonde hair was down on her shoulders and she looked especially pretty in the height of the setting sun.

  O’Brien tipped his hat. He liked the looks of her, and her brashness.

  ‘Molly. Just returning from town. Good to see you again.’

  ‘Come on down off there and say hello properly,’ she said with a smile. O’Brien hesitated, then dismounted. Inside the gate he walked over to her.

  ‘I been thinking about you,’ he told her. ‘I have to admit it, you worry a man’s blood, Molly.’

  She gave him another big, wide smile. Then, suddenly, she reached up and planted a soft kiss on his mouth.

  ‘Hey,’ he said with a low chuckle. He was holding her close to him, and could feel the softness of her against him. ‘What’s that all about?’

  ‘It means I like you, dummy,’ she said. She didn’t try to break away from him.

  ‘I like you, too, Molly.’ He released her reluctantly. ‘But this is broad daylight out here.’

  ‘It’s the only chance I’ve had,’ she said pertly. She looked him over. ‘I liked it. I liked it a lot.’

  ‘You move pretty fast, Molly.’ He looked around to see if they were alone out there. ‘You’re always a little ahead of me.’

  She put her arm in his. ‘Would you escort me inside, kind sir?’

  O’Brien found he liked having her arm in his. ‘If you’ll promise to behave in there.’

  ‘Why, what an ungracious thing to say to a lady.’

  ‘You talk funny sometimes, Molly.’

  They walked into the house. Once inside, Molly took him into the library room where she had been with McComb a few days ago. O’Brien stopped short and stared at the opposite wall.

  ‘Are them all really books?’

  ‘Every one,’ she replied.

  ‘I only seen a half-dozen books in my life,’ he admitted.

  ‘How many have you read?’

  He hesitated, ‘None.’

  Molly looked into the deep-blue eyes. ‘Well. There isn’t much need for book-reading in these parts. Let’s set a little.’

  They sat together on a long sofa, Molly placing herself so that she touched him. He liked it, and let it happen again.

  ‘I don’t have much time, Molly,’ he said. ‘There’s a big hunt tomorrow, and I got things to do back there.’

  ‘I won’t keep you long. Say, you never told me your first mane.’

  ‘I don’t use it.’

  She frowned. ‘It can’t be that bad. What is it?’

  He looked over at her. ‘I don’t use it, Molly.’

  ‘Goodness! All right, it’s O’Brien. I’ll get it out of you some day, though. I’m hoping there will be plenty of time.’ A serious look met his gaze.

  ‘Molly, what are you saying?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking. I’ve never met anyone just like you. You do something to me, O’Brien. Something inside. Don’t you feel it too?’

  ‘I know I like you. I like you a lot.’

  She looked away. ‘You and me could own this whole thing some day. If it was right between us.’

  O’Brien turned to her. She was a lovely girl, but when she talked this way, it took his breath away.

  ‘Ain’t you getting ahead of yourself just a little?’ he suggested quietly.

  ‘Not if you really like me. What I’m saying is, I think I’m falling in love. It’s not like I wanted to. But these things just happen. I just hope you’ll find the same feelings inside of you.’

  O’Brien didn’t know what to say. In his young life he had never got close enough to any woman to take one seriously. He took a deep breath in.

  ‘Molly. I’m still trying to find out what I want to do with my life. I’m kind of a loner. I’m most content when I’m out on the trail, hunkering down over a campfire and listening to coyotes yell at the moon. How would a woman fit into that world?’

  ‘You would have that and me, working for Daddy,’ she argued.

  ‘I don’t know how long that will be,’ he told her. He stood up. ‘I got to get back now. We can talk on this later if you still want to.’

  She rose and faced him. Disappointment showed strongly in her pretty face.

  ‘If you don’t know now what you feel for me, maybe you never will.’

  He didn’t know how to respond to that. ‘I never met a girl I liked more. You’re different from the others. You say what you feel, and I like that. But I’m in no position to be long-thinking about much of anything just now. That could change, I know that. But that’s all I can say right now.’

  ‘Damn you, O’Brien!’ Molly said loudly, and she was trying not to cry. ‘Go hunt your damn buffalo.’ She ran from the room.

  It was raining when they started out the next mornin
g, but about halfway to their destination the rain stopped and the sky began clearing. It took a while in the new area to find the herd, and it wasn’t as big as the last one. Their clothing was drying out, and the mood among them was somber. As they lined up for the assault, McComb kept looking down the line of mounts toward O’Brien, but neither O’Brien nor Cahill were aware of it. Navarro was, but decided not to ask questions.

  As usual, Walcott said a few words before they went, then they were thundering down on the herd, which was situated on rolling, uneven ground at the bottom of a butte.

  The firing and yelling was raucous, and as the herd began stampeding all the other sound drowned out its roar. O’Brien and Cahill were separated, but both were finding regular targets. Buffalo were going down all around them, and a couple stumbled and fell over the rocky, bumpy terrain. In the middle of all that, McComb spurred his mount into a gallop directly at O’Brien’s appaloosa.

  O’Brien was in the act of putting his sights on a nearby bull, and did not see McComb coming. When McComb arrived at the appaloosa, he didn’t rein in, but slammed his chestnut stallion into the side of O’Brien’s mount.

  The collision was violent and traumatic. The gray stallion jerked sideways, almost losing its footing. It threw O’Brien to one side. O’Brien caught the saddlehorn hard; he stopped his sidewise motion and managed to stay onboard. Only then did he see McComb beside him, and realized what had happened.

  ‘Goddam you!’ he yelled above the clamor around him.

  McComb rode away, firing again at shaggies. O’Brien reined the big stallion in, made a couple more shots that took buffalo down, and moments later it was over. The herd was gone.

  O’Brien sought out McComb then, and rode over to him. McComb was dismounting near a kill. He looked up at O’Brien.

  ‘Sorry about that bump. My horse just got out of control for a minute there. Hell, you could of been trampled if you hadn’t held on.’ He gave a hard grin.

  O’Brien had dismounted now, too. He strode over to McComb without speaking a word and threw a fist into McComb’s face.

  McComb felt as if he had been hit by a sledge hammer. He went flying over the hump of a dead shaggy and hit the ground hard on the other side. His nose was broken and blood ran down his face from it. He spat a tooth into the grass.

  He was too stunned to say anything for a moment. Then his face slowly grew a deadly look. The look other men had just seen before their quick demise.

  ‘Why, you mangy—’ he spat out breathlessly.

  ‘Get up, you bastard, and I’ll do it again,’ O’Brien growled.

  But now McComb drew the Colt Army .45 on his hip and aimed it at O’Brien’s heart.

  ‘Now you take a trip to hell, boy,’ he grated out.

  But Walcott had ridden over to them. He shouted at McComb.

  ‘Hold it, McComb.’

  McComb re-aimed. ‘This is between me and him.’

  Walcott quickly dismounted. ‘You fire that thing, and you’ll answer to me, by God!’

  McComb’s finger tightened on the trigger. But then he looked over at Walcott. He was still on the ground.

  ‘Do you see what he did to me?’

  ‘Put the gun away,’ Walcott said slowly.

  McComb hesitated again, then holstered the big revolver. O’Brien had just stood silent through it all. Cahill walked over to them now, out of breath.

  ‘McComb tried to knock O’Brien off his mount,’ he yelled. McComb rose to his feet, staring fiercely at O’Brien.

  ‘That’s bull pucky,’ he gritted out. ‘My stallion lost its balance for a minute. I already told him.’

  ‘You rammed me,’ O’Brien now spoke up. ‘You hoped I’d be trampled.’

  Walcott looked over at McComb with narrowed eyes.

  ‘Look, you two. I don’t know what’s going on here. But I want you to put an end to it.’

  McComb’s nose was swelling across his face. He felt where the tooth had come out of the corner of his mouth.

  ‘You see this? And you want it to be done?’

  ‘I’m going to skin my kills,’ O’Brien said. He turned his back on all of them and walked away.

  ‘This ain’t over, rawhide,’ McComb called after him.

  ‘Get to work, McComb,’ Walcott said heavily to him as he walked away.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  When the hunting party arrived back at Whiskey Creek at the end of that long day O’Brien was at his bunk, cleaning the Winchester, when Cahill walked in and sat down on his bunk across from O’Brien. O’Brien did not acknowledge his presence. Cahill’s middle-aged face looked particularly worn at that moment.

  ‘McComb was going to kill you out there, wasn’t he?’

  ‘He was going to try,’ O’Brien said, shoving a cleaning rod into the barrel of the long gun. Cahill grinned slightly. This was what he liked about O’Brien.

  ‘Dawkins heard McComb talking to Navarro when they were skinning out there. McComb was saying how he’s just waiting for his chance now. Talking about you.’

  O’Brien laid the gun aside. ‘He won’t be the first. Don’t give it a second thought. I don’t.

  ‘He’ll want to look good to Walcott. But he’ll come for you, O’Brien. He’s a born killer.’

  ‘Well, he knows where to find me.’ O’Brien went to a foot locker at the end of his bunk and got some things out of it. ‘In the meantime, I’m giving Walcott my notice.’

  Cahill’s weathered face showed surprise. ‘What?’

  ‘I’ve had my fill of the hide company,’ O’Brien said. ‘I told you why. I’d like to try buffalo hunting. But on my own. Still shooting. I think I could make a living at it. Do better than my salary here maybe. And I wouldn’t have to take no stupid orders from McComb. Or anybody.’

  Cahill rubbed a hand across his mouth. ‘Well.’

  O’Brien looked up and saw Walcott coming down the aisle, congratulating hunters on their kills. He stopped at McComb’s bunk for a moment and said a few quiet words to him, then came down the aisle. McComb looked down toward O’Brien’s bunk. Then Walcott was standing before O’Brien and Cahill.

  ‘You did some nice shooting again today,’ he said to O’Brien. Then, turning to Cahill: ‘You brought me a good one here, Uriah.’

  Cahill nodded uncertainly. ‘I thought you’d be pleased, Elias.’

  O’Brien looked up at Walcott. ‘I hope this don’t disappoint you, boss. You been good to me. But I’m giving my notice. I’ll stay till the end of the week and pick up my pay.’

  Walcott slumped into himself. ‘I hope this don’t have nothing to do with McComb. I give him a talking to.’

  ‘That boy will give you trouble as long as he’s here,’ O’Brien said. ‘But he’s only part of it. I want to go out on my own. I think I work better without somebody telling me what to do.’

  ‘I could give you and Cahill a modest raise, if that will help keep you here.’

  O’Brien shook his head. ‘That ain’t a factor. But thanks for the offer.’

  Cahill was clasping and unclasping his thick hands. After a moment, he caught O’Brien’s eye.

  ‘If you could stomach a partner out there with you, ‘I’d like to join you, O’Brien.’

  ‘I’ll be damned!’ Walcott muttered.

  O’Brien studied Cahill’s face for a moment. ‘I’d be pleasured to have you.’

  Walcott grunted. ‘I should have guessed that.’ He puffed his cheeks out. ‘I won’t try to keep you here. But it won’t be as pleasant a place without you.’

  ‘We’ll miss you, too, Elias,’ Cahill told him.

  Walcott met O’Brien’s gaze. ‘If you get a chance, you might tell Molly.’ Then he added heavily, ‘I think she’s a little sweet on you, boy.’

  ‘I’ll stop past to say goodbye,’ O’Brien said.

  In the next three days O’Brien and Cahill worked hard in the warehouse, piling and counting hides for the tannery, which was their last stop before shipment. McComb hadn’t spoken t
o either of them since their return from the hunt, but on the last day he came over to O’Brien and spoke to him with a wide grin.

  ‘I see you decided to run, boy.’

  O’Brien looked up from sorting hides. ‘Oh. You again. I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.’

  ‘I’m saying, I guess you took what I said seriously. Which you should.’

  ‘I don’t take nothing you say seriously,’ O’Brien said. He took a robe-quality hide from a pile and put it on a smaller one. McComb leaned in toward him.

  ‘You wouldn’t a made it through the month here if you’d stayed.’

  ‘Or you wouldn’t,’ O’Brien said coolly.

  McComb shook his head slowly. ‘Just run while you can, boy.’ Giving a low chuckle, he turned and left.

  That evening, their last at Whiskey Creek, O’Brien rode into town and visited Molly Walcott.

  Her father was not there and O’Brien was ushered in by the maid. He found Molly in a spacious parlor, sitting in a chair near a fireplace in which a fire burned. She looked when he entered the room but did not rise or speak.

  ‘Hello, Molly.’ He held his Stetson in his hands. His long dark hair was slicked back, his mustache neatly combed.

  She was angry, but she thought she had never seen so masculine a man..

  ‘You wouldn’t even have come by if Daddy hadn’t suggested it, would you?’

  ‘Of course I would,’ he said quietly. ‘Mind if I set down?’

  ‘Suit yourself. You always do.’

  He chose a chair facing her, and sat there, moving his hat in his hands.

  ‘This wasn’t an easy decision, Molly. I like Elias. And you.’

  ‘If you liked me you’d stay here and make a life for us. I told you. There isn’t anyone for me but you, O’Brien. I mean that.’

  ‘This don’t have to be the end for us,’ he said. ‘I’ll be coming through here regular, I’m sure. I thought to see you then. We’d have more of a chance to get to know each other. I think that would be good.’

  ‘I’ll bet you’ll come through here. Do you think I’m going to set here on my hands and hope you’ll show up some day? I’m young, and I’m pretty. Men come courting regular here. Why, that Matt Dawkins was just here last night, sweettalking me. Even though Cyrus warned him away. What do you think of that?’ She demanded, sticking her chin out.