by Dale Graham
The sun was peeping over the scalloped rim of the mesa when Chico mounted up. Pedro was eager to join his cousin in the task outlined by Blue Creek Chisum, but Chico was adamant that he should go alone. ‘This is my problem, primo,’ he insisted. ‘You stay here and look after the chickens. I would never forgive myself should any harm come to you.’
In his heart, Gonzalez knew he would be more of a hindrance than a help with the tricky undertaking. ‘Then look after yourself, Chico. These are bad gringos you are tangling with.’ Pedro rubbed his cousin’s neck to remind him that a necktie party would be the price of failure. ‘Next time, those ratas will not let you escape.’
Lafferty shrugged off the warning, but it had struck home nevertheless. A brisk nod of understanding, then he rode away, leaving his cousin shaking his head with ominous foreboding. A brisk ride lay ahead of him to reach the town of Maverick before the general business of the day brought people out onto the streets.
Two hours later, Chico sat his horse, looking down on Maverick from the cover of some juniper trees. The building he sought was on the main street. He would need to approach it from the rear to avoid being spotted. Gingerly, he nudged the horse down the tortuous narrow trail, reaching the back entrance safely. Nervous eyes panned the immediate vicinity of the Del Rio vigilante office.
What Ben Chisum had in mind would make those critters sit up and take notice. A satisfying grin cracked the swarthy face. An eye for an eye was nothing if not a fitting payback. One final look around and Chico hustled across to the back door. He stuck an iron bar into the gap near the lock and heaved. It was only a plank door, not designed to withstand any serious assault. A splintering crack soon found the lock breaking loose.
He slipped inside quickly, unloading the goods he had brought to complete his mission of destruction. The two bottles of tallow oil were splashed around. No further time was wasted as a scratched vesta was applied to an oily rag. Backing across to the open door, he tossed it into the room. The result was instantaneous. A whoosh followed as the fire caught the soaked woodwork. Flames leaped across the floor, eagerly devouring everything in their path.
This was no time to linger in admiration of his handiwork. He dashed out of the building and across to where his horse was tethered. But he was not alone. Two of Steiger’s men had arrived early to open up the premises. Their job was to administer any so-called law enforcement deemed necessary to provide a cover for the vigilante leader’s true intentions. It also helped to establish a bona fide presence in the valley.
Smoke was already drifting out of the open door. ‘Hey, Bug,’ Laredo called out to his buddy. ‘It looks like the office is on fire.’
Quick on the uptake, Pincher spotted the perpetrator heading across the back lot. ‘Ain’t that Lafferty over yonder? The skunk must have come out of hiding and decided to get his revenge by burning down the office.’
The two men grabbed for their guns. ‘Hold up there, scumbag. You’re under arrest,’ Laredo shouted. ‘Don’t move, else you’re a dead man.’
Shocked by this sudden interruption to his plan, Chico had no intention of surrendering to face another hanging. His hand dropped to pull his own shooter in answer to the challenge. But these were hardened gunmen. The two Navy Colts blasted apart the early morning silence. Once, twice, three times, the simultaneous reports of discharging firearms tore down the fetid silence. Black powder smoke filled the air, mingling with that of the ever more dense surge of wood smoke.
Chico Lafferty stood no chance against such a lethal detonation. His punctured body spun round, arms flailing wildly like some demented puppet, finally tumbling in a heap of bloody clothes. The killers wandered across, toeing the dead carcass idly. ‘The boss will be pleased we removed this piece of trash,’ Bug Pincher declared, a lascivious grin painted across his gaunt kisser.
‘Like as not, we’ll be up for a good bonus when he hears about it,’ concurred Laredo, not in the slightest bit fazed by the sudden death-dealing action.
The gunfire had attracted other early risers to the grim scene. They just stood apart, staring at the gruesome result of vigilante law. But already the fire had grabbed a firm hold of the office, threatening to engulf other buildings nearby. Cries of alarm jolted the watchers into action.
‘Fire! Fire!’ Pincher shouted. ‘Somebody go call out the fire brigade.’ Every town in the west, however small, had some form of fire-fighting organization. Conflagrations were the most feared hazard facing wood-framed settlements. Too many of them had gone up in smoke for the matter to be taken lightly.
Suddenly, the thought of monetary rewards faded as the two killers hurried to join in with the panic-driven rush to save the building. Luckily, it was separate from the others, so none of the other watchers were in any hurry to comply. The disappearance of the vigilante headquarters was no loss to the town.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Mixed Fortunes
The clandestine meeting was already assembled when Ben finally slipped in the back door of the blacksmith’s shop. He could hear raised voices grumbling about having been dragged away from their businesses. It was clear that Elsa had told the gathering that the infamous gunfighter had a plan to rid the valley of Web Steiger’s vigilante gang. Likewise, it was equally apparent that some members of the council were decidedly reluctant to place their future in the hands of a hired gunslinger that had once ridden with Squint Rizzo.
‘What guarantee do we have that this guy ain’t also in Steiger’s pocket?’ the town barber voiced, wiping sweat from the bald pate that had resulted in the somewhat discomfiting nickname of Egghead. ‘The way I see it, a leopard never changes its spots. A guy who works for the highest bidder can’t be trusted to back our interests.’
The view offered by Reubin Varney did not appear to be shared by the majority. They all respected Elsa, who had urged Obediah Crawley to summon this extraordinary council meeting. All the same, it was a vociferous minority. And they needed convincing that Ben Chisum was the only one who could bring peace back to the Nueces.
The man under fire chose that moment to step out of the shadows. ‘I want Rizzo out of the way just as much as you men,’ he stressed, moving into the light cast by the blacksmith’s blazing fire. ‘More so, seeing as he betrayed me to the federales down in Zaragoza.’ He moved into the centre of the group, standing beside Elsa. ‘You might think you are safe from Steiger’s depredations here in Uvalde. But I can tell you for a fact that he’s after taking over the entire valley.’
‘He just wants the land to expand his cattle empire,’ interjected a tall, rangy jasper clad in black. Yellowing skin stretched tight across a bony skull gave a skeletal appearance perfectly in accord with his profession, for Joseph Waldorf was the town undertaker. ‘By keeping our heads down and paying for his protection, we’ll be safe.’
‘That ain’t exactly a charitable attitude to take, Joe,’ protested Mayor Crawley. ‘As councillors of the main town in the Nueces Valley we have a duty of care for everybody. Too many innocent settlers have already been driven out, some even killed for objecting to Steiger’s demands. I think we should at least listen to what Mister Chisum has to say before refusing his help.’
Ben chose that moment to show his hand. ‘Just so that everybody knows the true reason for Steiger’s land-grabbing ambition, I can tell you that it sure ain’t to run more beef. The skunk couldn’t give a tinker’s cuss about ranching.’ He paused, allowing another sceptic to question this assertion.
‘If’n he ain’t after more land for cattle, perhaps you could enlighten us with the real reason,’ pressed Chuck Dempster, who ran the butcher’s shop. It would be his business that would benefit most from increased beef sales.
Ben rolled a stogie and lit up before answering. His hawkish gaze panned across the gathering, resting for a moment on the beatific features of Elsa Durham. A hidden smile passed between them. Behind her stood the solid figure of Gus Ordway like a faithful guard dog. Ben nodded to him; he was confident she was
in safe hands.
Then he delivered his eye-opening disclosure. ‘Gold is what it’s all about.’ A sharp intake of breath heralded this shock announcement. Even Elsa was stunned by this startling revelation. ‘Gold!’ he repeated firmly. ‘Steiger has somehow discovered a rich seam of paydirt on Jaybird land.’
Following a brief, yet noisy babble, the sceptical barber piped up. ‘Maybe Lafferty knew all about it and was holding out on us ’cos he wants the whole caboodle for himself.’
Ben’s face coloured with indignation. It was a struggle to keep a tight rein on his temper. ‘I’ve been to see Chico Lafferty,’ Ben jumped in, defending his new associate vigorously. And believe me, he was a surprised as any of you. Chico doesn’t want the gold for himself. He wants it to bring prosperity to the whole valley: a new hospital, running water and drainage, and a whole lot more. A place for good folks to live in peace.’ He cast a challenging eye around the room. ‘And those were his words, not mine.’
He paused there to allow this startling declaration to be discussed. There was certainly much to consider. The gabbling chatter was finally curtailed by the mayor clapping his hands. ‘Order! Order, please, gentlemen. Allow Mister Chisum to finish his story.’
Ben terminated his rational explanation in a deadly serious manner that nobody present could mistake for levity. His voice was low, yet poignant, as he described the battle at the Jaybird homestead in lurid detail. ‘Pure greed is the reason Web Steiger wants to acquire land used primarily for farming. Certainly not so he can continue growing crops there. Him and his bunch have already burned down the holding with my buddy inside. I only managed to escape by the skin of my teeth. And that’s when I stumbled on the hidden mine in the hills behind. So I have every right to want that skunk brought to justice.’
More nervous muttering broke out. This altered everything. The mayor then called for a show of hands in support of his proposition to support Ben’s plan of action. This time, the vote was unanimous.
‘So, what have you in mind, Mister Chisum?’ asked the undertaker in a far more conciliatory voice.
Ben sucked in a deep lungful of air before outlining his scheme. ‘It all hangs on the citizens of this town, you men here, backing my play to the limit.’ He looked round, noting the nervous glances passing between them. ‘One man alone cannot defeat the vigilantes. But I can draw them into a trap from which the only escape is in a pine box if’n they choose to make a fight of it.’
‘But we’re shopkeepers and businessmen, not gunfighters,’ the barber complained. ‘You can’t expect us to stand toe-to-toe with hardened pistoleros.’
‘Just so long as you can point a gun and are prepared to use it, that’s all I ask. You’ll all be hidden from sight if Steiger falls into the trap.’ Ben’s measured display of confidence had certainly piqued the attention of the gathering, but there was still that vital element missing before a decision could be reached.
And it was Obediah Crawley who voiced it. ‘I reckon its time we learned how Steiger is gonna be lured into this trap you’ve mentioned.’
Ben was ready with the answer. ‘I’ll need the cooperation of the newspaper editor.’ All eyes swung towards Howard Nesbitt, who was still sporting his trademark eyeshade. Ben handed him a piece of paper on which he had written the contents of an advert. ‘That should do the trick,’ he asserted. ‘Why don’t you read it out, Mister Nesbitt? Then these gentlemen can judge for themselves whether it’s likely to work.’
Nesbitt adjusted his spectacles before quoting the message intended for Web Steiger’s scrutiny. ‘Thirty hands needed to harvest crops on Jaybird land. Good pay and bonuses paid for the right men. Sign on with Ben Chisum at 10 o’clock on Thursday morning in Uvalde.’
‘Reckon you can have that printed in bold on the front page of tomorrow’s distribution of the Nueces Star?’ Ben asked the somewhat bewildered newspaperman.
‘Don’t see why not,’ was the calculated response, ‘and I’ll make certain that a copy is delivered to the S Bar 7 first thing.’
‘So, gentlemen,’ Ben said looking them each in the eye. ‘That will really set the cat among the pigeons when he hears that I’m still in the land of the living. And I’ll be on the main street sitting behind a table ready to sign up potential hands at the appointed time. Web Steiger is sure to respond by riding in with all his men to ensure nobody joins me. That is the last thing he wants with all that gold up for grabs.’
‘Sounds like a full blown showdown, boys,’ Crawley declared to all and sundry. ‘And if’n I know Steiger, there’s gonna be a heap of lead flying. Are we up for it?’ He swallowed to conceal his nervousness before continuing. ‘I can’t see any other way of defeating the critter once and for all. There must be plenty of other guys in town who feel the same and will want a part of the action. So I’m giving Ben my unqualified vote of confidence.’
One by one the others quickly nodded their heads in assent. Soon after, the meeting broke up. Before they left the blacksmith’s shop, Ben issued a note of warning. ‘It’s vital that nobody talks about what we’re planning to anybody outside this room. We don’t want word getting back to Steiger. He has to be taken completely by surprise when he turns up.’
But there will always be some who can’t resist a bit of gossip, especially while waiting in a barber’s shop. Egghead Varney never could keep his mouth shut. Not that he had any intention of revealing the plan proposed by Ben Chisum, but the presence of gold in the valley was another thing entirely.
‘Who in his right mind would ever have thought that gold would be discovered down here by Chico Lafferty?’ he remarked to the man sitting in the chair, his face coated in a thick layer of shaving cream.
‘Who told you about that, Egghead?’ a startled patron exclaimed.
Too late, the big-mouthed barber realized that he had overstepped the mark. He quickly explained it away as the ravings of some drunk he’d bought a drink for in the saloon. ‘I don’t know where it is,’ he hurried on eager to staunch any rumours that it was here in the Nueces. ‘Could be anywhere in the state for all I know.’ But his denial was not convincing.
Such a startling revelation, especially from a barber, was unlikely to be idle tittle-tattle. One man, who had only just arrived, slipped out the door quickly without uttering a word. Utah Gillick was one of Steiger’s regular cowhands and he knew the boss would want to hear this news straight away.
Web Steiger was holding court in the main room of his ranch house. Sitting behind a large oak desk, a glass of best Scotch whisky in his hand, his eye glittered greedily. Laredo had just returned from Maverick. His news about the torching of the vigilante office was of no consequence in comparison to the far more noteworthy report that Lafferty had been caught in the act and shot dead.
His lip curled with the satisfaction of knowing Jaybird land was now wide open. ‘All I need do is to occupy the spread and have a deed of ownership drawn up. We’re almost there, boys. The S Bar 7 is gonna be the biggest outfit in the territory with us in total command.’
Havana cigars were handed out to his most trusted cohorts, who knew that they would benefit most from the land takeover. ‘Yesiree,’ gushed Steiger. ‘Stick with me, boys, and you’ll all be living in clover. With that interfering cornball Chisum out of the way, there ain’t nothing to stop us. And maybe next year we can move into Langtry County. There’s a self-appointed judge called Roy Bean holding court down there. The skunk hanged a buddy of mine two years back for no good reason.’
The murmur of accord was cut short when Utah Gillick arrived in a lathered sweat. He had ridden hard all the way from Uvalde to deliver his mind-blowing report. Without knocking, he stumbled into the room panting heavily, much to Steiger’s annoyance. ‘Ain’t you learned by now, Gillick? You always knock before entering my private domain. What’s so darned important?’
‘It’s Jaybird land,’ the overwrought messenger blurted out.
‘What about it?’
The cowpoke paused to draw
breath before answering. ‘There’s a gold mine and it must have been discovered on his land.’
For a brief moment, nobody spoke. Mouths fell open, eyes popped out on stalks: gold on Jaybird land. It was barely credible. The blood drained from Steiger’s face. The white worm writhed in anguish. But it was Squint Rizzo whose devious brain cottoned on to the truth immediately. He stepped forward to confront the stricken vigilante leader.
‘Why, you double-crossing louse,’ he railed angrily. ‘Now I see it all: the reason you were so desperate to acquire farmland that was of little use to a ranching enterprise. You’d discovered the gold and were planning to throw us poor saps to the wolves before disappearing with all the loot.’ A pistol appeared suddenly in Rizzo’s hand. The ominous double snap to full cock spoke volumes.
His very existence now in jeopardy, Steiger protested his innocence of any skulduggery quickly. ‘Sure, there’s gold up there. And I was gonna share it out with you all once we’d taken over the valley.’
But the shifty look and the sweat-coated brow did not match the denial. Rizzo was not convinced. ‘What do you say to that, boys?’ he shouted, brandishing the gun with menacing intent. ‘Is our noble, good-hearted boss telling the truth? Or is it all just a load of hogwash to save his miserable hide?’
Angry mutterings of discontent gave him his answer. None of those present had any doubts that Web Steiger was a ruthless go-getter who would ride roughshod over anybody to get his own way. ‘So, what’s the verdict, gentlemen of the jury, is this skunk guilty or not guilty?’
A resounding verdict of guilty echoed around the room, bouncing off the walls and slapping the defendant in the face.
‘So, Mister Webley Steiger,’ Rizzo intoned, thoroughly enjoying his position as judge and executioner. ‘You have been found guilty of grand theft by your peers.’