Dee Havalik received the reinforcements with satisfaction. With Andy and several others he squatted beside the fire. “Three times now Kilkenny has disappeared from place due north and a mite east of here. That means he got him a hideout in the Blues. He’s got a good bunch fighters with him but they’ve women to worry about. We can use fire to bluff ‘em into surrender. But first we’ve got to find them.
“Andy, you take five men and head up Mule Canyon. Better keep a rider on each wall as you advance, scoutin’ the country. Watch for trail sign. Grat, take five more men and ride east until you find a pass. When you do, go over and ride for the nearest bottom. Then wait for us. If we follow true courses we’ll meet back in there and by then we should know something.” Havalik led his own group along the western flank of the mountains roughly opposite the trail the searched-for party had left a few days before. When he came to the rough country around Cottonwood Creek, they turned up the Blues into higher mountains. At the point where they turned they were less than three miles from the waterfall under which the party had ridden to find the back door to the Valley of Whispering Wind.
By nightfall the three parties had come together, camping on a branch of Indian Creek. Due north of them towered the Twin Peaks, and beyond the peaks lay the valley.
Grat swung from his dusty horse and crossed to where Havalik and Andy conversed in low tones. “Struck a trail!” he told them triumphantly. “In that pass a little south of here. The rain washed out some of the tracks but two or three were that mare the Riordan woman rides.”
Havalik spat with satisfaction. “Good! Good!” He nodded affirmation. “That fits.
Must be the trail we lost.”
“That ain’t all. We found Jess Baker.”
“Dead?”
“Uh-huh. Right through the center. He had his chance, too.” “Kilkenny.” Havalik paced off a few steps. “I’d have give ten to one that was what happened to Jess.”
“You got any ideas?” Andy asked.
“We know they came this far. From the way they appeared and disappeared it can’t be much further. It could be in the mountains right around us. From now on we ride careful.”
. The wind whipped the fire and blew hard in the tree-tops. The air was cold and the sky spotted with clouds. Dee Havalik walked to a big log and sat down. What would they say in the Live Oak country when they heard he had killed Kilkenny? He had always known they would meet some day. He only hoped it would be face to face, man to man, and not in a general fight where the killing might be attributed to others.
Cain Brockman rode up to the cabin shortly before midnight. He went to the nest of rocks and trees beyond the spring where Kilkenny had bedded down after his brief rest in the house. “Lance?” he whispered. “I’m awake.”
“Spotted a couple of fires on Injun Crick, looks like Brigo’s gone down for a closer look.”
“Two fires? Close together?”
“Uh-huh. Means a big bunch.”
“Who’s on the peaks?”
“Shorty. It took me nigh an hour to get back down.”
“All right. You get some sleep.”
He lay there, hands clasped under his head, studying the problem. The expected attack would come tomorrow and it would be with all the force Tetlow could muster.
There was movement near him and he caught a faint breath of Nita’s perfume. He sat up and she moved down beside him. “What is it, Lance?” “They are over the peaks. We’ll have trouble tomorrow.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m tempted to hit them tonight with an ambush.” “Don’t do that. Let them start it.”
“When this is over, Nita, will you go back to your KR?”
“Not unless you send me.”
“It will be cold and lonely up here in winter.” “I don’t care! I’d love to see those peaks all covered with snow!” She listened to the wind. “In this valley with you? Riding, working, walking together, I’d want it more than anything, Lance.”
“You’ll have it, then. I’m through running. This place here in this valley will be my last stand. I made up my mind when I came here.” Nita was suddenly thoughtful. “Lance, I’m afraid.”
“Of Tetlow?”
“Only a little of him. Mostly of Dee Havalik.”
Kilkenny leaned back and began building a smoke. “Don’t let it bother you. I don’t.”
“That’s easy to say.”
“Yes,” he admitted, “and this is what I’ve tried to save you from without much luck. But Havalik will get more than he bargains for. He never bucked a combination like this before, and so far we’ve just defended ourselves.” Her mind shifted. “I think Laurie likes Doctor Blaine.”
“She’d be a fool if she didn’t. He’s a rare sort of man.”
“So are you.”
“Me?” Kilkenny chuckled, then drew deep on his cigarette. The glow was bright in the darkness and Nita momentarily caught the strong lines of his face, somber and brooding. “Maybe.”
The moon was rising above the wind-worried trees. They sat hand in hand, her head against his shoulder. The faint smell of tobacco smoke mingled with that of wood smoke and pines. The peaks were a hard, serrated line across the face of the moon.
Someone stirred, and with a start, Kilkenny realized it must be Taggart. It would be two o’clock in the morning and he would be going to relieve Shorty. Kilkenny reached for his moccasins. “Better get some sleep. I’m going to scout around. Brigo isn’t back.”
“Don’t worry. He has a sixth sense, like a wolf.” He buckled on his gun belts and picked up his Winchester. Taggart waited for him. He was a tall man, lean-jawed and haggard of face. “I’ll walk along,” Kilkenny said. “Brigo’s been gone all night.”
“That Yaqui never sleeps.”
They mounted and rode away together. “Figure the fight will come today?”
“It’ll start.”
“I want one shot at that Tetlow.”
Surprised at the tone, Kilkenny glanced at him. “You sound like you had a personal grudge.”
“Knowed Tetlow since we was boys together. Before he owned one cow I had a nice ranch back in Texas. He stole my cows, burned me out, took my range.” “He’s been hurt himself, now. Lost two boys, his herds scattered, his men shot up.”
“He’ll never quit.”
They parted at the trail to the peaks. “Tell Shorty to get some sleep and to get the crowd up by five, ready for trouble.”
There was a dim trail east of Twin Peaks, winding around the mountain toward the place where the fires had been seen. When he was still some distance away he swung the buckskin to a thicket and left him tied. He heard their voices before he reached camp. Then a pistol barked, and a louder voice taunted, “Hell, Grat! You never even touched him! Bet I can notch his ears!”
Kilkenny slid through the brush, easing branches aside and moving close to the edge of the firelight. Then he peered into the clearing. Jaime Brigo was tied to a tree and men were sprawled on the ground eating breakfast. Grat and two others were standing with drawn pistols facing the tree. The big Yaqui watched them, his contempt obvious. Blood from a scalp wound trickled down his face. Havalik sprawled on the ground nearby, looking on without expression.
The man who offered the bet lifted his gun. As he did so, Kilkenny stepped into the open, his Winchester at his hip. He held the gun on Havalik, but his command was for them all. “If you want Havalik dead, just make a wrong move!” Caught unawares, all remained without moving and Kilkenny said quickly, “You! With the pistols! Drop them! Untie that man and make it quick or I’ll splatter Havalik’s skull all over your breakfast!”
Havalik sat very still. He was no fool, and he knew one wrong move would kill him. “You won’t get away with this, Kilkenny. I’ll have your hide.” “You’ll get your chance all in good time.”
He saw Brigo step away from the tree, rubbing his arms to restore circulation. Then the Yaqui picked up his rifle and buckled on his pistol belt. He turned his big head toward
Grat. “This man shoot at me,” he said. “I want him.” “I’d like nothin’ better!” Grat challenged.
“All right.” Kilkenny knew Brigo. Few could face him in any sort of hand-to-hand combat. “Walk out beyond the fire. Now all of you turn to face them. Your backs will be toward me and anyone who wants to die will have an easy chance.” Grat was a big, strongly built man. He looked from the Yaqui to Kilkenny. “You mean I can fight him?”
“Choose your weapons. Gun, knife or bare hands.” “Knives!” Grat said, smiling with cruel satisfaction. “I always heard Injuns were good with knives but I never saw one yet who was! I go for a Bowie!” Both men put off their gun belts and with knives held low, cutting edges up, they circled warily. Grat was a powerful, quick moving man and he had stripped off his boots for better footing. Grat moved suddenly, but Brigo caught the darting blade on his own, and deflected it. Grat lost balance and fell forward. The Yaqui stepped back carelessly, his face hard with contempt. Angered, Grat lunged again. Like a chaparral cock with a rattler, the Yaqui began to bait him. He left openings, he appeared to slip on the grass, he circled and feinted, moving to draw Grat in.
Suddenly, Brigo lunged and the edge of his knife left a thin red line across Grat’s cheek. Blood welled to the surface and began to trickle. Grat rushed and the Yaqui sidestepped away and the point of his knife flicked the biceps of Grat’s left arm.
“Hah!” the Yaqui grunted as he moved away. “You wish to kill. How does it feel to be living, but upon the edge of death?”
Grat was sweating now. He was frightened, knowing that his knife skill was puny compared to that of the man he faced. The big Yaqui moved gracefully, easily, un wearied. Brigo’s knife was like a snake’s tongue, darting … darling … The point flicked again at the biceps, the edge touched Grat’s ear. Where the knife touched there was blood.
Grat threw caution away. His only chance was to rush, to close with the Indian before the loss of blood weakened him. He rushed, and Brigo met the rush, knocking aside the knife arm and thrusting, low and hard into Grat’s belly. Eye to eye they stood, then Brigo threw him aside.
Grat landed on his knee, and instantly threw his knife, but Brigo had already moved, and throwing his own knife as Grat tried to turn away, drove it to the haft in Grat’s kidney, the point driving up.
Screaming, Grat caught at the haft of the knife and tried to jerk it free. In this position, he could not exert the strength and he staggered like an insect on a pin. Brigo walked to him and, putting a hand on his shoulder, he withdrew the knife. Without looking at the dying man he wiped the blade clean in the sand. Then he belted on his guns once more and picked up his rifle. “You are fools,” he said. “As he dies, so will you all!” Surprisingly, Macy, Taggart and Dolan stepped from the brush. Worried by Kilkenny’s plan, Taggart had started them along his trail. Supported by their rifles, Kilkenny and Brigo disarmed the Forty riders. Kilkenny took the guns from Havalik’s holsters. “I’m going to unload these,” he said, “and give them back. One day we’ll meet and you’ll want your own guns.” Taking Havalik’s hat, he spun it high in the air. Then, slip-shooting with Havalik’s guns, he emptied them into the spinning hat. Then he tossed the guns into the grass at the gunman’s feet.
Mumbling, the Forty riders started for their horses, minus guns, ammunition and gunbelts. Then as they rode away the men from the valley walked into the trees toward their horses, taking with them all the guns but the two returned to Havalik.
In the pass, Havalik drew rein. “We’re not goin’ back. Dave, you take Joe and get to Horsehead. Get guns and come running. We’re not through here.” Leal Macy stepped into the saddle and then turned. There was resolution in his jaw. “This has gone far enough! We’re going into town and I’m going to arrest Tetlow. I’m going to deputize the lot of you right now!” Dolan glanced at Kilkenny. “What do you say, Lance? This might be the time.” Kilkenny hesitated, weighing their chances. “All right. Brigo can stay here with Doc Blaine, Early and a couple of men, just in case. The rest of us will go.” At the ranch they wasted no time. Leal Macy and Kilkenny would head the group for town, taking with them Dolan, Cain Brockman, Shorty and Taggart. It was a good, hard-fighting crowd.
Kilkenny led off toward town, but he had not gone far when they intercepted the trail of the Havalik men. “Only two men went to town! Havalik and the rest have stayed in the hills!”
Macy’s face was a study in uncertainty. “Do we stay or go?”
“We’ll go on,” Kilkenny said. “We’ll trust to Brigo.” “My guess is that those two have gone after guns. If we get along fast we can take them along with Tetlow.”
Day was breaking when the party rode into town. They tried no subterfuge, but rode right into the street. The only horse they saw wore the 4T brand. The center was at the Diamond Palace.
“Dolan, you and Brockman go down the street and pick up anybody that’s loose.
Taggart, you and Shorty cover the street.”
Kilkenny turned toward the Palace with Macy. “You think those two beat us here?”
Macy asked.
“Doubt it. I know the trails better and we pushed our horses.” Only one Forty hand was in the Palace. He was eating, but when he saw who had come in he dropped his fork. Two guns covered him and he attempted no more. In a matter of minutes he was hog-tied.
“Where’s Jared Tetlow?” Macy demanded of the bartender.
“Don’t know, but if I was you I’d dust out of here.” “I’m sheriff, in case you’ve forgotten. You make a move from behind that bar or help in any way and I’ll arrest you for complicity.” Leaving their captive with the men on the steps, Macy started for the Pinenut. A shot sounded down the street and Kilkenny ducked across the street and ran into an alleyway between Bob Early’s office and the harness shop. Running to the back of the Westwater Hotel, he opened the door and stepped quickly inside. Jared Tetlow stood in the front door staring into the street. Beside him was a big man with hair the color of corn.
“You’re under arrest, Tetlow! You’ll stand trial for murder and theft!” The old man stiffened, then turned slowly. His face was white and the bones stood out against the skin. “You? Arrestin’ me?” “I’m a sworn deputy of Leal Macy, county sheriff. Both of you unbuckle your guns.”
The big young man was wide-shouldered and strong. He wanted to take a chance, but there was no chance. Carefully he let go his gun belt and, after an instant’s hesitation, Tetlow did likewise.
Gathering up the guns, Kilkenny led his prisoners into the street. Macy stood in front of the stage station with a Winchester, looking across the bridge into west town.
“Brockman had trouble,” Macy explained. “A man named Harper. He was dead before he hit the floor.”
When Tetlow and the light-baked man who proved to be Swede Carlson were jailed, the posse turned to and made a clean sweep of the town. They rounded up but six scattered riders from the Forty. There was no sign of the two men Havalik had sent for guns.
Leal Macy worked swiftly. He sent three wires by the noon stage to be telegraphed from the nearest station informing the governor of what had happened and the steps that had been taken.
He was behind his desk and Kilkenny was loafing in the office when Ben Tetlow came in. “I understand you’ve arrested my father?” “That’s correct. He’ll be held for trial.”
“Is there any charge against me?”
“Not so far.”
“Do I get to see my father?”
“No reason why not.”
Ben Tetlow unbuckled his guns. He glanced at Kilkenny. “What’s your part in this?”
“Deputy.”
“A killer!”
“Might call me that. I never hunted trouble.”
“I suppose,” Ben said bitterly, “you’ll kill my father now?” “Don’t build trouble where there is none,” Lance replied quietly. “Your father tried to ride us down. He’ll get what’s coming to him … legally.” There was a sincerity about the tall rider that c
onvinced him. Without replying he went down the hall.
Jared Tetlow appeared to have aged, but his eyes were hard as marbles. “Son!
Ride for Havalik! I want out of here!”
“You mean to have him take you out? By force?”
“Don’t be a fool!” Tetlow said irritably. “How else would he get me out?”
“You’re to stand trial.”
“Me?” The old man’s face was bitter. “Jared Tetlow tried like any common criminal? I never figured I’d hear a son of mine say a thing like that! You git out of here and git Havalik!”
“I’m staying out of it, Dad. I’m staying out because when this is over you’ll need money and a place to come to. I’ll tell Havalik you’re here, but I’ll have no part in breaking the law.”
There was something approaching hate in the eyes of Jared Tetlow as he watched his son walk away. Then he turned angrily and walked to the bunk. Ben picked up his guns. “Any law against moving my cows?” “Not at all,” Macy said, “but your herds will have to be cut to get out the stock belonging to other ranchers.”
Ben nodded seriously. “Fair enough. I’ll cut all I can with the few hands I’ve got. You can cut them again whenever you like.” “There’s a place east of Comb Wash called Texas Flat. You could hold your cattle there with the ridge as east fence.” Kilkenny gave him directions for moving the herd.
“Thanks.” Ben felt uncomfortable with these men. He started to leave, then hesitated in the door. “That Carpenter affair,” he said, “I had nothing to do with any of that.”
“We know it.” Macy looked up from his desk. “We’ve no trouble with you, Ben.”
“That Carlson you have in there,” Ben said. “I don’t think he was in this.”
“We’ll see,” Macy promised. “If he had no part in it we’ll turn him loose.” Suddenly as it had begun the trouble was over. Business in Horsehead resumed, and the arriving and departing stages began to bring in drummers and other passengers. An official arrived from the governor’s office to hear the evidence and make report to the governor himself. It was announced that a special court would be convened to sit on the case.
Kilkenny (1954) Page 13