Ambush Range

by Burt Kroll

“If there’s gonna be any action then you’ll get your share, I promise you,” Merrill said, smiling grimly. “But you’re wasting time now, Pop. Why don’t you and Lonnie start riding into town, huh?”

  “Okay, okay.” Lorimer turned his mount and motioned for Lonnie to side him, and Merrill stood watching them until they were moving along the trail that led to Portville. Then he moistened his lips, went back into the house for a water canteen and some supplies, and returned to his horse to ride out on the tracks that had been left by the intruders.

  He was prepared for a long ride, but the tracks, although heading directly away from town in the first instance, soon turned and regained the trail that led to Portville. He pushed on faster, able to identify some of the tracks, and just before noon caught sight of Lorimer and Lonnie jogging along the trail. He pulled his sixgun and fired a shot in the air, startling them. They swung around, saw him, and came back towards him at full gallop.

  “You gived up following those tracks?” Lorimer demanded.

  “Nope.” Merrill pointed to the main trail. “They swung around, hit this trail and headed on into town. I’ve been watching to see if they cut away in any direction, but they haven’t. They went back to town.”

  “Well, what do you know about that? It makes it kind of hard to get on to them, huh?” Lorimer looked at the dusty ground. “You’ve been following them long enough to get to know some of them. Do you reckon you can pick them out in town?”

  “I doubt it. There’ll be too many tracks around, I guess. But we can think about the animal with the loose rear right shoe, huh?”

  “Yeah. I’ll have a look aiound the stable when we ride in, and I’ll check the horses those trail-hands ride. I figure their camp should be the first one we oughta check.”

  “We’ll get the sheriff to look into it officially,” Merrill said. “Come on, let’s get into town, huh?”

  They rode on, and Merrill did not relax his vigilance. He watched the trail for signs of riders cutting away from it, but saw nothing significant, and when they reached the outskirts of Portville he reined up and sighed heavily. The mid-morning sun was beating down upon them and he was covered in sweat.

  “Looks like we can say goodbye to the tracks here,” he commented, studying the ground closely and noting the profusion of hoof prints heading into and out of the town. “Let’s get Lonnie settled at the store. Then we’ll take care of our business.”

  “Pa, don’t make me stay in town,” Lonnie protested. “I want to ride with you. I’m good with a squirrel gun.”

  Merrill smiled. “I admire your spirit, but you’re being a mite reckless, son,” he replied. “This is man’s work, and you’re far short of being a man. Trouble started yesterday because you didn’t do like I told you. So how about you following orders today, huh?”

  “All right.” The boy pulled a face. “But if you leave me with Miz Parry her father will only make me work in the store, and he won’t pay me more than a dime.”

  “I want to know you’ll be safe,” Merrill said. “You do like you’re told and I’ll handle the rest of it. We’ve all got our work to do so let’s get at it.”

  They rode into town and reined up in front of the general store. Luke Parry was standing on the sidewalk, arranging some of his wares on a couple of trestle-tables in front of one of his large windows, and he looked around at the sound of their arrival. He nodded, his face serious, and Merrill wondered if there had been more trouble in town during the night.

  “Morning, Ward,” the storekeeper greeted. “I didn’t think you’d be showing up around here until those trail-hands headed back south.”

  “I wouldn’t have come in if it hadn’t been so important,” Merrill replied. “I have to see the sheriff. I’d like to ask Kay if she would take care of Lonnie for a couple of days. I may have to ride away from the ranch.”

  “The boy can stay with us of course,” Parry said without hesitation. “He can help around the store, and I’ll pay him.” He paused and stared into Merrill’s harsh face. “Anything wrong? Has anything happened to bring you specially into town this morning?”

  “Just a little matter I want to talk over with the sheriff,” Merrill replied. “Lonnie, you take your bronc along to the stable and put him up. Tell Herb Gwynn I’ll settle up with him when I see him. Then you do like Mr Parry tells you. I’ll come back to you before I leave town again.”

  “Okay, Pa.” There was reluctance in Lonnie’s voice but he knew better than to argue. “Be careful, huh?”

  Merrill nodded and turned away, walking along the street with Lorimer at his side, and they tied their horses to the hitchrail in front of the law office. Si Kester emerged from the office at that moment, and he paused on the sidewalk and looked intently into Merrill’s grim face.

  “Taking a wild guess, I’d say that something is wrong,” the town marshal said.

  “Why should you think that?” Merrill stepped on to the sidewalk, facing the local lawman. “Is the sheriff in?”

  “Sure. Doing some paperwork. What’s on your mind?”

  “I guess you were around town all last night, huh?” Merrill asked. “Were those trail hands around?”

  “Sure they were. I kept a special watch on them because the sheriff was concerned that they might ride on out to your place and start throwing lead at you for killing one of their own.”

  “It’s a six-hour round trip to my place,” Merrill mused. “You’re certain they were all here in town, especially around sundown?”

  “Saw them myself. What’s going on?” Kester began to get interested.

  “I’m gonna make a report to the sheriff and you’re welcome to listen,” Merrill said, stepping into the office, and Kester and Lorimer followed him.

  The sheriff, Walt Oakley, looked up at their entrance and a show of surprise came to his face. He started to get to his feet then remained seated and leaned back in his chair.

  “Don’t tell me!” he said wearily. “You’ve had some kind of trouble.”

  “What makes you think that?” Merrill was sharp this morning, on the watch for any clues which might give him an inkling of why his place had been shot up.

  “Why else would you be in town again so soon, especially with the trail-hands still here?” the sheriff countered.

  Merrill explained the incident in a steady voice, but his eyes were filled with a harshness that boded ill for whoever had caused the raid to be mounted. The sheriff listened in silence, his lips tight against his teeth, and Si Kester leaned against the inside of the door, his eyes filled with calculation.

  “We can vouch for every one of those cattlemen,” Oakley said without hesitation. “Hell, if someone hit your spread around sundown and they came from town then they would have had to leave just after you did, huh?”

  “That’s right.” Merrill thrust out his bottom lip as he considered. “I never thought of that. I didn’t check to see the direction they rode into my place, but when they left they went in the opposite direction to town and then circled back to the town trail.”

  “I’ll go along to the stable and check on the horses there, then start on every blamed animal in the town,” Lorimer said. “I’ll be looking for that loose shoe.”

  “Okay,” Merrill said. “But watch your step in case you flush someone into the open.”

  Lorimer grinned and patted the butt of his low-slung sixgun. He departed, banging the street door at his back, and Merrill returned his attention to the sheriff, who was shaking his head slowly.

  “I don’t like this, Ward,” Oakley said slowly. “It looks to me like someone local is trying to get at you and hoping to use the cattlemen as a cover. But he sure acted fast, whoever he was, for six riders to be on your doorstep as the sun went down.”

  “I ain’t got any enemies around here,” Merrill said stubbornly. “Hell, I’ve lived quietly on this range for ten years and never had a cross word with anyone.”

  “Maybe someone is scared that you’re gonna be a force against
them with the coming of the cattle herds,” Kester put in, and Merrill looked at the town marshal.

  “Have you got anyone in mind when you say that?” he asked, and Kester shook his head.

  “Take your pick,” he invited. “You know who lives in town as well as I do. But why were they content just to throw lead at your place? You say that as soon as you began to reply they rode off?”

  “That’s right. Either they didn’t want to be recognized, which means that I could have identified them if I’d gotten a good look at them, or they had orders to just try and scare me, although scare me away from what I don’t know. I have no intention of becoming one of your special deputies. I made that quite clear yesterday. So it can’t be that.”

  “And rustlers wouldn’t ride into your spread like that and start throwing lead at you. They’d just sneak in, steal your cattle, and hightail it out of there.”

  “So what do you figure is going on?” Merrill asked.

  “Beats me for the moment,” Oakley said. “All I can do is shake my head and wonder.”

  “What are you gonna do about it?” Kester demanded.

  “What the hell can I do? I’ll look around the stable and the town in the hope of locating some of the horses who left tracks out there, but it seems like a long shot.”

  “You’re gonna have to watch yourself in case they strike again,” the sheriff observed, and Merrill nodded slowly, his eyes filled with a harsh glitter.

  “I’m ready for anything now,” he confessed. “I’ve brung Lonnie into town and I’m leaving him here for a few days. I don’t want the worry of having him around the spread if there’s a chance he might catch a stray bullet. Whoever those riders were, they sure made a bad mistake if they figure to kill me. They should have done it while they had the chance. After this I’ll be ready for them, and they won’t get an easy second chance.”

  “Knowing you, I’d say the first time wasn’t easy for them,” Oakley mused. “But this sure does beat all, don’t it? I figured we had enough trouble on our plates with the herds coming in. But this business don’t make no sense.”

  “Well, I’ll take a look around,” Merrill said harshly. “I don’t know what I’ll be looking for, but if anything else comes up I’ll let you know about it.”

  He turned and left the office, pausing on the sidewalk to peer around the street. The familiar surroundings seemed to have a different atmosphere this morning, and he wondered about that. There was a hostility in the air, and he figured that even now someone might be looking at him along the barrel of a gun. It brought back to him the facts of what his life had been like as a lawman, and he sighed as he went along to the stable.

  Pop Lorimer was in the lively barn, looking at the horses there and talking to Herb Gwynn. The stableman rounded on Merrill excitedly, for he was a busybody, and seemed to know everyone’s business.

  “Pop was just telling me about what happened out at your place last night, Ward.”

  “I figure you might be able to help me,” Merrill countered. “Was there a bunch of men either took their horses out of here around the time I left town yesterday, or bring horses back some time after sundown?”

  Gwynn shook his head without hesitation. “Never noticed a thing out of the ordinary,” he said.

  “It needn’t have been out of the ordinary,” Merrill told him. “The men who did the shooting could have been townsmen, folks I’ve known all along.”

  “Hell, that puts a different hat on it.” Gwynn stared at Merrill with troubled gaze. “But it still don’t give me anything to tell you. Men are coming and going with horses all day and night. The usual men took their horses out of the barn, and the same folks brought them back later. I ain’t here all the time, as you know. I trust the locals to take care of their own animals, and pay me when they see me.”

  “Was there anyone at all riding in last night you figured might not have gone out of town for any special reason?” Lorimer asked, coming back fom the stall. He shook his head in reply to Merrill’s raised eyebrow. “Nothing here with a loose shoe,” he added.

  “Hell, men are riding out all the time for different reasons, and I don’t make a habit of asking them where they’re going.” Gwynn shook his head. “But I’ll keep my eyes open in future, you can bet.”

  “Thanks anyway,” Merrill said. “Come on, Pop, let’s go talk with Steve Harper and see if anyone’s had a right rear shoe fixed.”

  They left the barn and walked along the street to the smithy, where Harper, a tall, thin man, was stripped to the waist and making his anvil ring with a two-pound hammer. Hot iron was glowing a dull red color, and the forge was burning brightly. Harper paused to wipe sweat from his forehead and grinned pleasantly. He was a man in his forties, and worked six days a week.

  “Hi there!” he greeted. “Anything I can do for you?”

  Merrill explained about the horse, and Harper shook his head.

  “Right rear foot? I put new shoes on several horses, but not a right rear foot. But I’m not the only blacksmith around, remember. Most of the bigger ranchers employ their own blacksmiths. But that rider might not have noticed the shoe yet. I’ll keep my eyes open and let you know if I see anything.”

  “Thanks.” Merrill turned away, and he gazed along the street, thinking about the incident that had occurred the night before. He figured that someone in town knew what was going on, and the fact that it was a secret gnawed at his mind. He was not afraid of trouble for himself, but he had a son to think of, and a sigh escaped him as he started across the street. “Let’s go take a look in the saloon, Pop,” he said. “I figure we owe ourselves a beer at least, huh?”

  “Now you’re talking,” Lorimer replied, his eyes brightening.

  They entered the larger of Frank Maitland’s two saloons, and found a sprinkling of customers. There was a poker game going on at one of the tables, and some of the men present were strangers. Merrill looked around while he drank from his glass, summing up the faces around him. He had not lost his ability to weigh up a character, and he wondered about some of the strangers, although he knew there were always men passing through the county.

  Frank Maitland came along the bar, his paunch bulging out the white apron he was wearing. A thick cigar protruded from his mouth and the thin curl of blue smoke rising from it made him squint his dark eyes. He wiped the top of the bar with a damp cloth more from habit than anything, and studied Merrill’s intent face for a moment, until Merrill glanced at him.

  “Heard you had some trouble out at your place last night, Ward,” the saloon man said.

  “Where did you hear that?” Lorimer demanded instantly.

  “Luke Parry looked in on his way along the street. Said something about your boy telling him your place was shot full of holes at sundown last evening.”

  “There’s some truth in it, but nothing to worry about,” Merrill replied. “I guess we’ve got to expect that kind of thing now we’ve made Portville a trail town. No trail town I ever saw was peaceful. Any changes around town these days, Frank?”

  “That shooting the night before last, of course,” Maitland replied. “But there’s word that a couple of large outfits are heading this way from Texas. If they hit Portville at the same time there’s likely to be big trouble. I’ve heard it rumored that the two outfits met up in Abilene last year and there were three killed and half a dozen wounded. They threatened to finish their battle this year, and that’s why they’re coming here. They’ve been banned from riding into Abilene again.”

  “They must be tough to be banned from Abilene,” Lorimer retorted, setting down his glass. “They’ll bust this town wide open like an old tin can. I wouldn’t wanta be around the night they get paid off and start spending. Even this place wouldn’t be safe. Have you seen a town after two wild bunches get through fighting in it? Hell, it would be like Bull Run all over again.”

  “But you’ll be open for business, Frank, huh?” Merrill demanded. “There’ll be plenty of fast bucks to be made
from two big outfits. But what about the town? Have you thought of what happens afterwards, when the trail-hands have gone back to their home range and there isn’t anything left here? How much profit can you make out of nothing? Or do you expect to make enough during the trail season to see you through the rest of the year? You were one of the leaders in getting the railroad in here. Will you take most of the blame when things go wrong?”

  “I think you’re over-reacting to the situation, Ward,” Maitland replied shaking his head and dropping cigar ash down his apron. “Why don’t we just wait and see what happens, huh? It might not be as bad as you think.”

  “That’s all we can do,” Merrill said with a shrug. “Wait and see. And it’ll be too late to do anything if it does turn out the way I think. This town is gonna have to face up to reality.”

  Four

  Merrill left the saloon and walked along to the store, where he found Lonnie helping Kay Parry in the back room. The girl looked up as Merrill’s shadow darkened the doorway, and she was flushed, with tiny beads of perspiration upon her forehead. When she saw Merrill she smiled, but there was worry showing in her dark eyes, and she looked intently at him.

  “You two look as if you’re busy,” Merrill commented. “Shall I come back later?”

  “No. I’d like to talk to you, Ward,” Kay said, and glanced at Lonnie. “Will you go through and mind the store, Lonnie?”

  The boy went through to the front of the building, and Merrill shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his gaze upon the girl’s face.

  “I hope it ain’t asking too much to have Lonnie stay with you for a few days,” he said softly.

  “Of course not. I’m glad you brought him in. If there is going to be trouble out at your place then you don’t want Lonnie out there. But have you any idea what was behind the shooting?”

  “None at all. I jumped to the conclusion that it was done by some local men, but it’s possible, I suppose, that strangers riding through stopped off to have a little fun. It’s surprising the number of riders who think it’s funny to throw lead into a place.”