by Burt Kroll
“But that’s downright dangerous!” she exclaimed.
“They don’t think of that at the time,” he responded. “But what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”
“You’ve got one enemy around town, did you know?” she asked, and seemed reluctant to go on.
“You surprise me.” He shook his head. “I haven’t done a thing to anyone around here.”
“Sometimes you don’t have to do anything to gain enmity. There is such a thing as jealousy, Ward.”
“Jealousy!” He frowned as he met her gaze, and she nodded slowly. “Who the devil is jealous of me? I didn’t get anything for nothing. I had to work hard for what I’ve got, and risked my life getting the money together.”
“Ordinarily I wouldn’t mention this,” she answered slowly. “I don’t want to cause trouble where there may be none, but you’ve got to look beneath the surface to get at the truth of this business, and I’d hate to see anything happen to you. You’ve had it tough already, Ward, losing your wife the way you did and having Lonnie to rear as well as taking care of the ranch. But Si Kester comes around here a lot and he talks a little sometimes. I suppose he can’t keep those kind of thoughts to himself. He doesn’t like you, Ward, and only because you were a lawman once and made some money and he’s a lawman now and sees nothing around here. He’s sick of his job and wishes he could build up a cow spread.”
“I see.” Merrill narrowed his eyes as he considered. “Strangely enough, I’ve always felt there was something wrong between him and me but couldn’t put a finger on it. But you don’t figure he hates me so much that he’d hire a bunch of gunnies to ride roughshod over me, do you?”
“I wouldn’t like to make a guess further.” She shook her head slowly. “I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing or not by telling you this much, but when there’s shooting involved then you need to examine every possibiity.”
“Thanks for bringing it up,” he said. “Don’t worry. I won’t face him and ask him outright if he was to blame. That would only put him on his guard. I’ve got to play this smart. I’ll watch points, Kay.”
“It could be Kester is behind it. I know he’s feeling low right now because everyone is talking about you becoming a special deputy, and he figures that if you do and there is trouble then you’ll be the one the townsfolk will turn to, while he, being the town marshal, will be left out in the cold.”
“But that’s crazy,” he said forcefully. “Heck, I don’t want anything to do with that business and I’ve made it quite plain. Kester has no leason to be jealous of me. If I didn’t have Lonnie to bring up I’d probably think about changing places with him. He’s got a good town here and little trouble.”
“That’s how it’s been until the railroad came,” she pointed out. “Now there’s likely to be trouble, and Kester has been complaining for a long time that you got all the breaks when you needed them.”
“But he’s likely to get some breaks himself now.”
“That’s the rub. Now the chances are coming he’s afraid that he won’t prove equal to them, like you did in your time. He can’t win, whichever way you look at it.”
“That’s the hell of a way for a man to live,” Merrill mused. “I always figured that it was difficult to work out what folks really thought about me. Some do show their emotions, but I wouldn’t have guessed it went so deeply with Kester. Sure I noticed a coolness about him. Thanks for mentioning this, Kay. You did the right thing. I was walking around town, figuring that I didn’t have an enemy in the world, but you’ve pulled me up short, and I guess I’ll have to look over all my contacts now to see if I can spot any other shortcomings.”
“You’ll be careful out there, won’t you?” she begged. “I do want you to know that if anything should happen to you then Lonnie will be taken care of. I don’t like to talk like this, but it is something that ought to be said.”
“I’m in your debt already, Kay,” he said huskily. “How can I ever thank you?”
“No need to.” She smiled gently. “I think you’ve had a hard life, and if I can help you a little after all the times you’ve helped other folk then I’ll do whatever is necessary. Now it’s been said and we can forget it. But please be careful.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be on my guard after this,” he promised. “Now I’d better get Pop and start back to the spread. I’d better stock up on ammunition, just in case, and I’ll say goodbye to Lonnie.”
“He can stay here as long as you think it’s necessary,” Kay said, leading the way into the store.
“Thanks. I guess we’ll have to get together when there’s time and have a serious chat, Kay.”
She looked into his face, her eyes sparkling, and he smiled as he considered how beautiful she was. There were a lot of men around the county who would give their right arms to be able to court her and she had turned them all down. But she seemed agreeable to seeing him, and Merrill realized that he was doubly fortunate, having had a good wife and now finding a very competent female who was ready to share her life with him. The knowledge made him count his blessings, and he took his leave of her and his son with reluctance. But he was glad he did not have to worry about Lonnie.
Lorimer was still in the saloon, and Merrill fetched the older man and they walked to the livery barn to collect their horses. Lorimer chatted as they rode out of town, and Merrill, remaining silent, kept a sharp watch on their surroundings as they rode back to the ranch.
“You know something, Ward?” Lorimer demanded, rambling on. “I don’t much care for Maitland’s attitude. I was listening to him talking in the saloon, and for a man who is a member of the town council and supposed to have the interests of the town at heart he’s a money-grabber. All he thinks about is what he can pick up in the way of business. He was telling me that he’s got plans to build another saloon in town to help cope with the rush of custom he’s expecting when the big herds arrive. Being on the town council, he can push through his own plans, and he said someone else wanted to open a saloon and he swayed the council to turn down the application. He’s using his position to grab all the business opportunities.”
“I got Maitland figured out,” Merrill returned, peering across his left shoulder to check out a knoll that might be hiding an ambusher. “There are a lot of greedy men in the county, Pop. That’s why they agreed to the railroad coming here in the first place. They’re not bothered about the town or the community. All they want is to make a fast buck, and they don’t care who gets hurt in the process. That’s okay, I reckon, knowing human nature for what it is, but what gets me is the fact that some of them hide their real intentions behind a mask. They’re hypocrites, and I can’t stand that kind of thing.”
“I’m like that,” Lorimer agreed. “I’ve seen it around town, Ward, and I reckon it’s a bad thing. But what can you do about it except grin and bear it?”
“Yeah, and that’s why I’m so set against becoming one of those special deputies. I don’t figure to risk my life for the good of the town while other men won’t take any of the risks but are busy lining their pockets. I’ve had my share of law dealing. I’ve laid my life on the line too many times in the past. I figure a man gets only so many chances, and after that he’s living on borrowed time. I reckon I more than used up my chances in the past, and I ain’t a man alone now. In the old days I had only myself to worry about. Now I got Lonnie, and I don’t like to think what might happen to the boy if I got killed before he was old enough to look out for himself.”
“It makes a man cautious, having responsibilities like that,” Lorimer said, nodding his head. “Hell, that’s why I never married. I reckon taking on those kind of responsibilities calls for a special kind of courage, and while I ain’t afraid of any man living, I don’t reckon I got the nerve to make myself responsible for other folks.”
“I sometimes wish I hadn’t taken the plunge, considering the way things turned out,” Merrill said softly. “I brought Lonnie into the world and he’s got to come f
irst in all my calculations. I know I ought to do something about this situation that’s coming because I’m about the only one around here who has had real experience of it. But my hands are tied because of Lonnie.”
They rode on in silence for a spell,, and were about halfway back to the ranch when they passed close by a stand of timber near a creek.
“We better water the horses,” Lorimer said. “I must be getting old. Once upon a time I could gallop all the way from town to WM. Now I have to take a breather halfway.”
Merrill grinned as he swung his horse towards the timber, and at that moment, he caught a glimpse of sunlight glinting upon metal flickering from the dark cover of the trees.
“Watch it!” he yelled grasping the butt of his Winchester and hurling himself out of the saddle. He hit the ground hard and rolled into cover, and even as he moved a rifle cracked and Pop Lorimer uttered a harsh cry and flung his arms wide. Merrill was coming up into the aim with his rifle when he saw his pard pitch sideways and hit the ground with a thump and lie still. Then he was tossing slugs at the gunsmoke drifting from the trees.
Harsh echoes fled across the wide range, and Merrill narrowed his eyes as he spotted movement under the trees. He began to fire, aiming at the gunsmoke and flashes, ignoring the questing lead that struck the ground all around him. His teeth were gritted against emotion. He was conscious of Lorimer’s inert figure close by but dared not relax to look at the older man. And he was anxious that the ambushers did not get away. That this was the same bunch who had fired shots at the ranch the previous evening he did not doubt, and he wanted to get to grips with them.
But again, the men appeared to be reluctant to take many chances, for the shooting ceased and then he heard the sound of pounding hooves receding. He exhaled slowly as he watched his front, and satisfied himself that an encircling movement was not developing. Then he lowered his rifle and crawled to Lorimer’s side.
He was stunned to find Lorimer dead, his mouth agape and a trickle of blood showing at one corner. There was a bullet wound in the older man’s chest, dead center, and he had an expression of faint surprise upon his craggy features. Merrill stared into the motionless face while grief stirred somewhere inside him, and he could not think normally for several moments. He reached out an unsteady hand and touched Lorimer’s face, and already it seemed to be turning cold.
He sighed and got to his feet, barely aware of his actions. But his eyes were filled with a cold glitter, and he took up his rifle and moved to his horse, mounting swiftly and riding towards the trees. He left Lorimer lying, for there was nothing he could do for his old pard, and the killers were getting clear.
When he entered the trees, he was cold and ready for action, the old, law-dealing Merrill who had made such a name for himself in the past and had been the scourge of badmen and outlaws. He dismounted, alert despite the fact that the ambushers had gone, and he looked around keenly, picking out tracks and reading sign. Then he remounted and rode out on the trail of three horses, and he pushed his mount into a gallop, for the tracks were plain to see and freshly made.
He took risks because he was angry about Lorimer’s death. If anyone wanted him dead then it would have been an easy matter to get him alone some place. But to kill an inoffensive man like Pop Lorimer was beyond comprehension, and merely served to show that the killers did not care who got hurt so long as they killed the man they had marked down as a target. He carried his deadly rifle in the crook of his left arm and cut west across the range, aware that he was only minutes behind the killers, and when he topped a rise and saw the spread of the range ahead, with three tiny figures racing across the middle distance, he set his teeth into his bottom lip and pushed the horse into a dead run, getting every ounce of effort and speed from it. They flew across the ground, and now he had slid the Winchester into its boot and was concentrating upon riding.
He gained upon the fugitives, and they were aware of his presence, for when he was getting closer to them but still out of good gunshot range, they swung in their saddles and began to pour lead at him. He grinned contemptuously. They had no chance of hitting him and were merely wasting lead, but it served to show how scared of him they were, and he realized that they must know exactly who he was, although he could not accept that they were local men whom he knew and called friends.
Miles slipped by and still he pursued them. He was getting closer, but the country was turning rough and it was impossible for him to get a clear shot at any of them. If he stopped to use his rifle, he might nail one of them before they disappeared across a crest, but if he missed and took up the chase again they would have gained valuable ground on him. Yet, he needed a prisoner at least in order to get to the bottom of their antagonism.
When he hit a long crest and saw them only a couple of hundred yards ahead, he hauled on his reins and pulled the weary horse to a halt, grabbing his rifle and hurling himself from his saddle. The trio were making for the mouth of a gully, and Merrill flung himself into a kneeling position and lifted the rifle. Fifty yards separated the men from cover, and he jacked a shell into his breech and tried to restrain his breathing. He fired as soon as his sights lined up on the leading rider, and the crack of the shot flung a string of echoes across the range. The foremost of the three jerked under the impact of the speeding bullet and pitched sideways out of leather, bouncing when he hit the ground. But Merrill was already swinging his deadly long gun, and he clenched his teeth as a second rider disappeared into the gully and safety. He fired at the third man even as he began to vanish into the gully, and the echoes fled as he paused and wiped sweat from his forehead.
He gained his feet and ran back to his horse, leaping into the saddle and spurring the horse forward. His keen eyes watched the mouth of the gully as he approached, and his rifle was steady in his right hand. He glanced down at the inert figure sprawled in the grass as he passed and saw that the man was dead, and then he was approaching the mouth of the gully. He slowed his pace, ready to start shooting if there should be any suspicious movement, and when he reached the gully he reined up immediately, for there was a horse standing with trailing reins and a second rider lay upon his back in the gully.
Merrill grinned crookedly as he stared at the inert figure. So his snap-shot had struck home! He raised his eyes to check the gully but there was no sign of the third man, and he dismounted carefully, ready to flow into action. He bent over the body and ascertained that it was dead. When he rolled the man over on to his back, he found himself looking into the face of a stranger.
He threw the body across the saddle of the horse and tied it there with the rope looped to the saddlehorn. Then he led his own mount and that of the dead man’s back to the other dead man. He was a stranger also, and Merrill stood staring at the stiffening face while a host of questions chased each other through his mind. Who were they? Why had they ambushed him? Why did they want to kill him?
He searched their pockets but nothing came to light which could give him any satisfactory answer, and he tied the second man to his saddle and then mounted his own horse and started back at a canter for the spot where he had left Lorimer. The afternoon was almost past when he tied Lorimer to his saddle and started back to town, and his thoughts were grim as he rode steadily, his vigilance sharp. He would not get caught again, and now the chips were down, there would be hell to pay for what had happened. He would take up the trail of that third man and track him into the ground if he had to, but he would get him, and then there would be a deadly reckoning.
When he reached town, evening was closing in and the shadows were long upon the ground. He rode straight to the law office, and some of the shock that had gripped him initially was gone now. He had spent the time thinking over the situation, and his impulse to confront Si Kester had been overwhelming to start with, for he suspected that the jealous town marshal must have had a hand in this trouble brewing up against him. But now he figured that he had better play it cool, as he had always handled dangerous situations. There was n
o sense in going off half-cocked, for if he did, and made a mistake, then he would pay for it with his life.
He dismounted wearily outside the law office, and yellow lamplight was spilling out of the windows. He wrapped the reins of the horses around the rail and stepped on to the sidewalk. When he opened the door of the office, he saw Oakley and Kester inside, chatting about the way they would handle the approaching trail herds, and for a moment, Merrill was not spotted. Then he crossed the threshold and slammed the door, causing both lawmen to jerk around. He noted that Kester regarded him with slitted gaze, his eyes bright and filled with some undefinable emotion.
“Jeez, Ward, do you have to move around like a shadow?” Oakley protested. “You near scared the wits out of me. But what are you doing back in town? You ain’t had more trouble, have you?”
“Take a look outside,” Merrill letorted, moving to their stove and helping himself to some coffee, His throat was filled with dust and his voice was dry as gravel. He stood drinking coffee while both men went to the door. Kester jerked it open and a shaft of yellow light spilled out across the sidewalk and bathed the horses at the rail, revealing their grisly burdens. Merrill listened remotely while both men cursed in shock and went out to look at the dead men.
When Oakley came back into the office, his rugged face was gray with shock, and he stared at Merrill with dazed expression.
“Pop is dead!” he said hoarsely. “How in hell did it happen, Ward?”
“Ambush! What else would you expect from the kind of rats running around the range?” There was bitterness in Merrill’s voice. He gazed at Kester as the marshal came back into the office. “Have either of you see those two men around town?” he demanded.
“Nope!” The sheriff shook his head in bewilderment. “What went on, Ward?”
Merrill told them, and spoke with a clipped tone. He was angry now, with his shock receding, and was impatient for sun-up so that he could take to the trail. He meant to get that third rider if it was the last thing he did.