by Tell Cotten
“Can I go with you?” I asked quickly.
“No, you stay here and rest up. Tomorrow’s the big day, and I want you ready.”
With that Kinrich mounted up and rode out.
I was nervous, but after a while I made myself relax. Valdez and Cliff acted like I wasn’t even there, and Palmer kept his distance.
But Palmer finally just couldn’t take it anymore. He walked up and grinned crudely.
“Sure is a mighty fancy gun you’ve got there,” Palmer sneered. “Where’d you get it?”
If anybody else had asked me that, I would have probably answered. But the way that Palmer was sneering down at me suddenly made me mad, and I felt the feeling start to grab a-hold of me.
“None of your business,” I replied curtly.
“What do you mean?” Palmer narrowed his eyes.
I saw where this conversation was headed, and I sure didn’t want to have to kill him.
I wasn’t scared of Palmer. But I was very scared of Kinrich, and if I killed Palmer I wasn’t sure how Kinrich would react. So I had to end this little situation right now before it got out of hand.
I clenched my fists and looked up at Palmer.
Palmer was still standing over me, waiting for a reply.
But I didn’t answer. Instead, I sprang up suddenly, and I swung my fist with all the strength I could muster.
Chapter twenty-three
Palmer was caught by surprise, and my punch hit home. Palmer dropped instantly and was out cold.
Valdez and Cliff saw the whole thing, but neither one of them even flinched. Their faces were expressionless; they just went about their business as if nothing had happened.
I had split my knuckle, so I walked out of camp a ways so they wouldn’t see me in pain.
When I returned Kinrich was back. He was standing over Palmer, who was still out cold.
I reckon either Cliff or Valdez told him what had happened, because as I walked up Kinrich turned sharply.
“I told you to leave him alone,” he snapped.
“I tried to,” I objected. “Besides, he started it, not me.”
Kinrich ignored my remark as he knelt beside Palmer and slapped his face.
“Wake up, boy!” He said.
Suddenly, Palmer jerked wildly.
“I can’t see!” Palmer moaned.
“You got hit in the head, that’s all,” Kinrich replied with disgust.
Kinrich yanked Palmer to his feet, and he grabbed him by his shoulders and shook him violently.
Palmer’s head bobbled back and forth.
“There, you’ll be all right now,” Kinrich said.
Whether he was or not, Palmer shoved himself away and started to stumble off.
But Kinrich stopped him. He then proceeded to give me and Palmer a severe tongue thrashing, and he told us very forcefully to leave each other alone.
I agreed wholeheartedly, because I sure didn’t want any more trouble.
But I could tell that Palmer was real sore. When Kinrich finally left Palmer turned and stared at me, and his eyes were filled with hate.
***
Brian Clark rode back in along towards sundown, and trailing behind him was another man. They unsaddled in the dark and walked up to the fire.
“Kinrich, this here is Lee Mattingly,” Brian Clark said.
I had heard of Lee Mattingly, and so had everybody else. His gun skills were legendary, and there were all sorts of stories about him. During the war he had been a loyal soldier for the South, and after the war he had drifted out west.
Over the next couple of years I would get to know Lee better than the rest. In a way I came to respect him, and I stayed around Lee the most. Unlike Kinrich, he was always pretty much the same, and I appreciated that.
Lee was what you could call a ‘professional’ gunfighter. He had a gentleman-like way about him, and while he was still an outlaw he just had a different set of ethics than all the others had. He was soft spoken, and he was also very loyal to his friends.
During supper Brian Clark introduced Lee to everybody, and when he got to me he introduced me as ‘Button’.
Lee nodded at everybody, and then he went back and carefully studied each man.
His gaze finally came to me, and he narrowed his eyes a bit. He studied me long and hard, and only when I looked up at him did he look away.
“You’ve got quite the reputation, Lee,” Kinrich told him while we were eating. “I’m glad you’re with us.”
Lee smiled and spoke with a rich, southern drawl.
“You have a pretty big reputation yourself. Matter of fact, that’s mainly why I decided to join up.”
“Oh? How’s that?” Kinrich asked.
“Wanted to see for myself if everything I’d heard ’bout you was true or not,” Lee explained.
Kinrich smiled that boyish smile of his.
“Well, I sure hope I don’t disappoint you none.”
“We’ll see, won’t we,” Lee replied dryly.
Kinrich nodded thoughtfully.
“Yes, we will.”
We finished supper, and after I’d helped Brian Clark clean up things I sat down next to the fire across from Lee.
Lee and Kinrich were telling each other about where they had been, and who all they both knew. They talked on and on, but suddenly the talking stopped.
I looked up and saw that Lee was studying me again.
“Tell me,” Lee said to me. “Is your name just ‘Button’, or do you have another name you go by?”
Everybody was curious to know who I really was; even Palmer was quiet as everybody waited for an answer.
“I have another name,” I told him. “It’s Landon. Rondo Landon is my name.”
“Figured you was a Landon,” Lee said, pleased with himself. “I rode with several Landons during the war. Matter of fact, I even fought against a couple of ’em too. Good fighting men they were too. Tell me, what’s your Pa’s name?”
“Noley Landon,” I replied.
“Yep, I remember Noley all right,” Lee nodded. “We were both prisoners once. Matter of fact, it was one of your cousins that was fighting for the North that helped us escape.”
“Pa’s dead,” I said quietly. “He was killed by Injuns a while back.”
“That’s too bad,” Lee commented, and his face looked genuinely remorseful. “He was a good man, your Pa.”
Suddenly, Brian Clark snapped his fingers.
“I know who you are now. You’re that kid with a fancy gun that killed Tom Benson down south a few months ago!”
Everybody shot me a surprised look, and then Kinrich laughed.
“Tom Benson ain’t the only man Button has killed,” Kinrich said. “You boys have been wondering what happened to Glen Harris. Well, Button outdrew and killed him, and I saw it with my own two eyes.”
Everybody was really surprised then, because Glen Harris was well-known for his speed. But Kinrich sat there and told them the whole story, and he told it as violently as possible.
“I would have said something ’bout it before, but I wanted to see for myself if any of you were in with Harris or not,” Kinrich declared as he finished telling the story.
After that it was very quiet. Everybody was taking in everything that Kinrich had just said, and from time to time they would look at me strangely, as if they were sizing me up or something.
Suddenly, in just a few short minutes, I went from being a nobody to being a somebody you had to reckon with. Respect was in all their faces, ’cept for Palmer. He was real jealous of all the attention I was receiving.
I wasn’t happy about all this talk. I didn’t like being measured by the men I’d killed, but that’s just the way it was among men like these.
I didn’t know it then, but my name had traveled around quite a bit during the four months I had spent with Ben Kinrich. The story of me killing Tom Benson had really gotten around, and even folks back east had heard about it.
Course, the story mo
st folks heard was that a kid with a mighty fancy gun rode up and for no reason shot Benson down in cold blood.
After a while everybody got ready to turn in. I rolled my bed out next to Kinrich’s, and Kinrich looked at me and chuckled.
“The boys respect you now, Button. But come tomorrow, you’re going to have to prove yourself all over again. They’ll be watching you, to see how you do.”
I didn’t reply. Instead, I crawled deep inside my bedroll.
Morning came early, and nobody talked much as we sat around and ate breakfast. I didn’t feel like eating, but I forced down some biscuits anyhow.
We moved out at daybreak. Kinrich led us down an old, winding cow trail, and my heart beat wildly.
There were seven of us total, and six of us were hard faced, veteran outlaws.
As for me— I didn’t know what I was yet.
Chapter twenty-four
We rode at a brisk pace, and we followed single file behind Kinrich. Each one of us must have been thinking our own thoughts, for not a word was said.
Suddenly, Kinrich pulled up. We were on a steep ridge that overlooked a little valley, and below us was the dirt road that the stagecoach would be coming down.
“Stage should be here in about thirty minutes,” Kinrich said, and everybody listened close. “We’ll do it the same as always. Lee, I want you with me.”
Lee nodded as he looked down below him. He was going over every nook and cranny of the valley, just like Kinrich had done the day before.
“What does the kid do?” Ryan Palmer spoke up, and his voice was thick with sarcasm.
“Button's going to stay here and help Clark. After we’ve got the stage stopped they can bring the horses on down.”
Palmer snickered at me. But I was glad, because I didn’t want any part of holding up that stage.
“Button, come on down with us now, and then you can lead our horses back,” Kinrich said.
I followed them down the steep ridge.
The day before Kinrich had cut down a huge elm tree, and he told us to throw our ropes around it and drag it across the road.
That elm tree was heavy, and it took all our horses to pull it. But we finally managed to drag it across, and Kinrich made sure that we left it in a real brushy place so when the stagecoach came up to it they would have to stop instead of trying to go around.
“All right, Button, take our horses and high-tail it back up that ridge to Clark,” Kinrich instructed. “And make sure and keep them horses outta sight, you hear? We don’t want that stagecoach getting suspicious.”
I nodded, and I took their horses and led them back up. Me and Brian Clark tied them in a low, brushy place, and then we made our way back up to the top of the ridge.
“Better bring your rifle along,” Brian Clark said.
“Why?” I asked, fearful of the answer.
“If something goes wrong down there, then it’s up to you and me to cover ’em,” Brian Clark explained.
I didn’t like that thought, but I grabbed my Henry rifle anyhow and settled down beside Brian Clark.
I was nervous. But Brian Clark was an old veteran at such things, and he chewed lazily on a blade of grass while he rested in the shade.
Time passed slowly, and I started to wonder if something had gone wrong.
Finally, I looked over at Brian Clark.
“Reckon the stage is still coming?” I asked.
Brian Clark nodded and pointed.
“It’s been coming for a while. See that dust over yonder? I’ve been watching it ever since we tied up the horses.”
I felt stupid, and didn’t say anything more.
Brian Clark must have guessed how I felt, because he chuckled lightly.
“It’s all right, kid. You live as long as I have, and by then you’ll know all the tricks.”
We were silent then, and after a while I could hear the sounds of the stagecoach a-coming. I started to get sweaty and excited, and then the stagecoach turned into the valley.
What I was expecting I don’t know, but not much happened.
The stagecoach approached the fallen tree. They pulled up, just like they had to, and then the driver and a couple of passengers went forward to try and move the tree.
It was then that Kinrich made his move. From out of nowhere all five of them appeared, and just like that they had the coach surrounded.
“Don’t try nothing foolish!” Kinrich called out as he covered the driver with his gun. “We’re here for your payroll, and nothing more. You hand it over real easy like and no one’ll get hurt.”
Kinrich lined up all the passengers and disarmed them. Meanwhile, Cliff and Palmer got the payroll box down, and then I heard a movement from beside me.
“Come on, let’s get the horses and go on down,” Brian Clark said.
I scrambled after him, and by the time we reached the stage Kinrich was already putting the passengers back inside. Lee had cut the horses off from the coach, and with a shout and hit on the rump he ran them off. Meanwhile, Cliff and Palmer had broke open the pay roll box.
“Toss me them saddlebags, kid,” Cliff hollered at me.
I reached behind me, untied the saddlebags, and pitched them over to him.
As I did I noticed a quick, shining flash near the stage window.
I looked again.
What I saw was a hand from one of the passengers, and in that hand was a derringer that was pointed straight at Kinrich’s back.
Chapter twenty-five
There was no time to warn Kinrich.
My hand instinctively dropped. I came up firing, and the wood beside the window exploded and sent wood splinters flying everywhere.
There was a terrified scream from inside, and as the hand withdrew into the coach the derringer dropped to the ground.
Kinrich spun back around just in time to see the derringer drop. His face turned as hard as a stone, and a rage came over him.
Kinrich ran over to the stage door, jerked it open, and reached inside. He yanked out a lanky, pale-faced kid. The kid was terrified as he dropped to the ground.
Kinrich hovered over him, and he was so mad that his whole body shook.
“I told you not to try anything and you wouldn’t get hurt!” He screamed down at him. “Why didn’t you listen?”
Kinrich then proceeded to give the kid a thorough beating.
It wasn’t a beating with his fists. Instead, it was more like the kind of whipping I had received from Pa that day back home behind the woodshed.
I thought the kid deserved it, for only a coward would shoot someone in the back, outlaw or not.
After Kinrich was through with him he opened the door and threw him back in, head first.
Kinrich started to close the door, but on second thought he stopped and looked back in at the rest of the passengers.
“If there’s any more of you that have anymore bright ideas you’d best be forgetting ’em,” Kinrich said roughly. “The kid got off easy. Anybody else would have killed him.”
Kinrich got no reply, so he slammed the door shut and turned to us.
“Let’s go,” he muttered.
Cliff tossed the saddlebags over to Kinrich, and then everybody stepped up on their horse.
We rode hard until we were out of gunshot range, and then Kinrich slowed our pace. There was no need to ride hard, for it would be a long while until anybody found them.
I noticed that Lee was watching Kinrich. Lee had never witnessed one of Kinrich’s mood changes, and I could tell that Lee was amused and interested by it.
After a while, Kinrich pulled up.
By now Kinrich’s face had lightened up some, and it looked like he had come out of his shell.
Kinrich dismounted, and he took the money from the saddlebags and split it up while we all watched silently.
He split it evenly between all seven of us, and I caught a few disapproving looks when I received my share. But no one questioned it, for Kinrich was the leader, and whatever he did w
as final.
Now that the money was split up, Kinrich told everybody about the next job he had in mind. It would be in three months, and after Kinrich told everyone where to meet everybody went their own separate ways.
Ryan Palmer was riding a light colored dun horse. He rode by me as he left.
“From the looks of it, you’d better practice some more with that fancy Colt of yours before the next job,” Palmer laughed scornfully. “You sure did miss that feller in the window!”
“And I’d say he did it on purpose,” Kinrich shot Palmer a sharp look. “He did good, not killing him.”
Palmer’s eyes flashed angrily, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he kicked up his dun horse and left.
Lee watched him leave with an amused look on his face.
“Sooner or later you’re going to have to kill that kid, Rondo,” Lee said.
I shook my head.
“Not me. I don’t want any trouble.”
“Well you’ve got it, whether you like it or not,” Lee commented as he reached inside his shirt pocket and pulled out a cigar. “It might be a year, or it might be even three or four years. But it’ll happen one of these days.”
Kinrich spoke up.
“Aw, Palmer’s a good kid; he’s just young is all. He’ll settle down.”
“Mebbe, if he don’t get himself killed first,” Lee said dryly as he bit off the end of his cigar. “Well, I gotta be going. See you in three months.”
Lee lit his cigar and rode out while me and Kinrich stood there and watched him go.
By now everybody else had left, and it was just me and Kinrich again.
“Where does everybody go when we’re in-between jobs?” I asked Kinrich.
“Oh, different places,” Kinrich replied as he stepped into the saddle.
I climbed up onto Slim, and together we rode out.
“Valdez, he works for a ranch down in Mexico. And Cliff, he works at a gambling house over in Santa Fe. Palmer, he just drifts around spending up his money. As for Clark, he owns a hotel down in El Paso. I wouldn’t know about Lee.”