When we had been riding maybe a hundred steps, Leslie drew up.
"Three safe men," he said aloud.
"Who?" The voice sounded as if from a cavern.
"This here's Leslie, Jim. Red's with me, an' a ne w man, name of Choc Ryan."
"Ride ahead, then." After a minute the voice added , "If that new man ain't all right, he'll never ride back ou t of here."
Me, I had a kind of queasy feeling in my stomach abou t that time. Riding down that narrow crack to get out o f here was going to be rugged, mighty rugged.
"Right back there," Leslie said, "one o' the boys go t hisself killed. A man don't speak at the right time, th e guard start shootin'. This feller was drunk. It was a ba d time to be drinkin'."
For maybe a quarter of a mile it was like that, an d then we dipped down into a canyon and ahead of us o n a sort of flat we could see lights in some cabins.
"There's the Roost, Choc, " Red said. "She ain't much , but she's home, and she's safe. No marshal or sheriff eve r seen it."
Chapter 17
RIGHT THEN I was tired, and I'd no right to be because I was going to have to be on my toes. Just whe n I would see Ash Milo I had no idea, but I was hoping i t would not be tonight.
Worst of all, I kept racking my brain over what Mustang Roberts had told me: that I was known to As h Milo. I couldn't remember him or anybody he might be.
But if he knew me, I wouldn't be Choc Ryan muc h longer. I'd be Rye Tyler, and dead.
With the weariness of the long ride behind me, al l my spirits drained into my boots. How was I to see Liza?
Suppose she wasn't even here? If I did see her, wha t could I accomplish? What fool's errand was this, anyway?
I was crazy.. . .
Only I was here.
We got down at the stables and put our horses i n stalls. There were some of the finest horses in that bar n that I ever did see, and I know horses. They were horse s built for speed and bottom. Nobody was going to ru n these boys down on ordinary horses. Yet I wasn't worrie d about the gray. He was one of the runningest horses I e ver did see. And he could walk the legs off a coo n hound.
Leslie took off and we followed him. There was a lon g building with lighted windows, and we went to that. A b oardinghouse, sort of.
Inside, two, three men sat around drinking coffee. On e was just eating. He looked tired and some beat, and h e had a bloody bandage on his arm. He looked up as w e came in. They all looked at me, but nobody spoke.
Leslie, he done the honors. "Choc Ryan," he said, "fro m the Nation."
None of them said anything, and then a big Negro cam e out of the kitchen with a platter of meat and potatoe s and put it down beside the tin plate and eating tools.
That big black boy's picture was on a poster in my offic e in Alta. He was wanted for murder. He'd strangled a guard and broke jail.
There was a pot of coffee on the table and I fille d cups for Leslie, Red, and myself.
The man with the wounded arm glanced at me. "Wha t d'you know? A gent!"
I grinned at him. "Ain't that," I said, "on'y these feller s are tougher than me. I figure I better butter 'em up a little."
He chuckled and we all settled down to eat. But m y comment seemed to set right, and they sort of settled down.
There was a big man across the table with his shirt ope n almost to his navel. He had a hairy chest and hair climbe d up his neck.
"I'm from the Nation," he said.
Here it comes, I thought. Now they ask me questions.
Only he just said, "Where'd you live?"
"On the Cimarron," I said. The trail drive had com e through that country and I knew that Leet Bowers ha d him a hangout on the Cimarron. This fellow might kno w of that.
He made a few comments on that Oklahoma country , and I added a few of my own, enough for him to kno w I'd been there, all right.
We turned in, bunking on the grass under the trees nea r the long bunkhouse. None of us wanted to sleep inside , and especially me. By this time I was feeling trappe d enough, and I was worried a great deal. This was a tighter fix than I'd reckoned on, and I could see they didn't trust me none at all.
Not that anything about me failed to ring true. I kne w I measured up. But men on the dodge can't afford t o be anything but cautious, and I was a stranger.
The next day we puttered around. I curried my hors e and found some corn for him. They had plenty of corn , growing their own, and the men took turns hoeing it.
Corn-fed horses will outrun any hay-fed horse, and laz y as some of these men might be, they knew they had t o have fast horses with plenty of strength.
Second day I picked up a hoe and walked out there.
Nobody said nothing, but when I returned after a coupl e of hours, I saw it set well with them.
Besides it gave me a chance to look around withou t being too obvious about it. Any man who uses a hoe lean s on it some, and while leaning, I looked the place over.
There were maybe ten buildings. Three or four wer e houses. Behind one of them I could see a woman's clothe s on a line. Unless there was more than one woman, tha t was where Liza would be. It gave me a lift just to b e that close.
But right next door there was another house and tw o men sat on the stoop. I noticed that at least one of the m was there all the time. Nobody was going to get close t o her without trouble, that was sure.
There wasn't much talk around, and none about her.
I did hear a man say the boss was mighty touchy, an d he didn't sound very happy about it.
One thing I could see, plain enough: Whatever els e Ash Milo might be, he had this tough bunch buffaloed t o a fare-thee-well. Nobody wanted any part of him, and tha t included Leslie and Sandoval.
There was one man there who was a little on the push y side. It was Chance Vader.
Second day there, I saw him. He was slick. Smoothshaved and wearing sideburns, he had pressed pants al l the time, and he kept his boots shined up. He wore tw o guns and he wore them low. Me, I am a looking-aroun d man. I saw he had another gun inside his shirt. That wa s something to remember.
Chance Vader duded up a good bit and he played card s a lot, and watching him, I saw his eyes straying towar d that little gray stone house where Liza was. He looke d toward it a lot, and sometimes he strayed toward it, bu t not often.
Once one of the men in front of the house next doo r got up and walked over to him. This was a big, burl y man called Smoky Hill.
I heard raised voices and finally Chance turned an d walked back. Red was sitting with me, and he said, lowvoiced. "Trouble there. Chance is too proud of hisself."
Talk around was that Chance had killed six men, fou r of them sure-enough bad men.
He was salty, that was for true. Anybody tangling wit h him would have to go all the way.
There was a saloon, but I stayed away from it. I hun g around the stables, took care of my horse, cleaned m y guns, and listened to talk. Sometimes we pitched horseshoes.
All this time I saw nothing of Ash Milo. But I learne d that he didn't come around very much. He stayed up o n the hill in a house he had. "Reads a lot," Red said. "Always after papers and magazines. But he knows what's going on, for all of that."
It was Red told me that Milo scattered crumpled newspapers all over the floor before he got into bed. He wasn't taking any chances on somebody sneaking up on him i n the dark.
No way I could see for me to get close to Liza. No t even to let her know I was there. And that had to b e done.
Oddly enough, it was Chance Vader who brought i t about. Right off, he didn't like me much. He would b e looking at me with a cynical smile, and even Lesli e noticed it. Leslie didn't like me, either., He didn't trus t me. Maybe he didn't trust anybody. But he liked m e better than Chance.
One day he said to me, "You watch that slick-ear. He'l l start on the prod. He's mean. He likes to kill, and he's building a reputation."
"Thanks," I said.
One day I was hoeing corn an
d had just put down th e hoe when I heard a call. "Hey, Choc!"
It was Smoky Hill, and he was standing in front of wha t I called the guardhouse.
Brushing off my hands, I walked up there. My mout h was dry and my stomach felt funny, and here I was, righ t close to Liza. If it was sure enough her.
"Look," Smoky Hill said, "I got to leave here for a little while an' that damn Vader's around. You take m y place, will you?"
"If Vader comes up here, what do I do?"
He looked at me real cold. "Nobody talks to that gir l but Milo. You hear that? That means you. But I kno w you're all right. You don't drink, an' you're steady. Yo u mind your own affairs. I been watchin' you." He hitche d his gun belt. "If that Vader comes up here, you sto p him. If he gives you an argument, I'll be hearing abou t it, and I'll be along."
So he walked off down the hill and I sat down on th e step, my heart pounding.
Liza was in that house next door, and we were in ful l sight of the camp, and I had to get word to her I wa s here. But how? .
And then all of a sudden it was easy. Out of the corne r of my eye I saw her standing at the window, just behin d the curtain. So I took off my hat and put it down on th e stoop. I hoped she'd know me.
Stooping forward to pick up a stone, I glanced at th e window. She was standing there with the curtain draw n back, slim and straight and lovely, not fifteen feet away , and she knew me. I could see it by the white set of he r face. Then she gestured. She meant for me to go.
Picking up the stone and a few others, I started casuall y tossing them at a can, like a man killing time. When I s tooped for more stones I shook my head and showe d her two fingers, meaning that the two of us would go.
She gestured at me again.
And then I heard feet walking.
Chance Vader was standing there sneering at me. "So?
You got your eye on the girl, too? She seems ready enoug h to play."
This was real trouble, and I got up. Worse, there wa s an odd, puzzled look in Vader's eye.
"Mighty funny," he said, staring at me. "She neve r looks at me, but you she signals to. Now I wonder. . . ."
"You do your wondering down the hill," I said. "My orders are to keep men away."
He looked at me and I could see in his eyes that h e wanted to kill me, but that wasn't as much on his min d right now as something else.
"You got me puzzled," he said. "I seen you before."
He turned his head a mite, the way some folks do, studying me. "And it wasn't in the Nation. I never been i n the Nation."
"You go back down the hill," I said.
Surprisingly enough, he turned and started to walk off.
Then he turned around. "Got it!" he said. His voice wa s hoarse with surprise. "Denver! You're Ryan Tyler!"
Smoky Hill was coming. He was almost loping. He wa s still some distance off.
"Rye Tyler," Vader said, "from Alta!"
There was no choice now. Not if we were to get ou t of here alive. I had wanted never to kill another man , even one several times a killer, such as this one. Yet if th i man told his story, I was a dead man, and worse, Liz a would never have her chance. I knew now she was no t here willingly.
Chance Vader's eyes were shining. There was a crue l triumph in the man. I saw his eyes suddenly sharpen, an d his hand moved. Whether he intended to shoot, I'll neve r know. My hand dropped to my gun and he was a spli t second slower.
My gun cleared leather and exploded. The bullet hi t him right over the belt buckle just as his gun muzzl e started to tip upward. Stepping one step to the side t o cause him to shift aim, I fired again, spotting this on e carefully over his shirt pock& It should have killed him , but it didn't.
His lips were parted in a wide grin and he had eve n white teeth, might nice teeth. A bullet whipped past m y skull and then my left-hand gun bucked. It was the firs t time I'd ever used two guns, and I was surprised whe n the bullet broke his elbow. But Smoky Hill was runnin g up the slope, and there was no time to be lost. I steppe d in closer, both guns hammering.
For the first time I desperately wanted to kill a man.
I had to kill him. Liza's future was at stake, and my life.
When I stopped shooting I was standing over him.
Smoky Hill caught my arm as I was reloading. "Tak e it easy, Choc! He's finished!"
"Rye!" Vader got it out, his eyes glittering in triump h at me, straining with effort. How he managed it I'll neve r know. How a man shot up like that could even draw a breath I don't know. But he said it again. "Rye!"
"Hell!" Somebody spoke wonderingly. "Dyin', an' h e wants a drink!"
Standing back, thumbing shells into my guns, I kne w it wasn't a drink he wanted, and I was hoping he couldn't say the other name. If he said it I would die here, onl y with my guns loaded I wouldn't go out by myself. I'd take a few along for company.
Chance Vader had been fast, all right. He had bee n fast and dangerous and he had sand. Lying there on hi s back with his lifeblood staining the gravel under him, h e still wanted me dead.
But then it was too late. His eyes glazed over and I s tepped back, slipping one gun into my waistband.
They stood around, a dozen of them, staring at me. I h ad no idea what to expect, but I had my gun in m y hand. It might make the difference.
"You saved me a job," Smoky Hill said. "You sure did."
Somebody said, looking at the nine bullets I'd put int o Vader, "Figured Vader was fast, but-"
"He was fast," Smoky Hill said grimly. "I know h e was fast. Only Choc here was faster." He pointed at th e body. "And shot straighter. Look. One over the bel t buckle, one through the face, and not one of the other s missed the heart by over three inches!"
They all looked at me again, sizing me up, getting i t straight in their minds. I had outshot Chance Vader.
"He was fast, all right. I had to kill him."
Red Irons shrugged. "Don't let it bother you, Choc.
There's a dozen men in this camp wanted to kill him .. . a nd not over two or three who stood a chance with him."
So we walked away down the hill. Suddenly, from bein g just a drifting outlaw, I had become known as a dangerous gunman, a man to reckon with.
Inside, the reaction was hitting me. I was sick, wante d to get off alone, but I had to stand the drinks. There ha d been no way out for me. I'd had to kill him, but thi s was the first time I ever needed to kill a man. The firs t time I ever wanted to kill a man. It scared me.
What would Liza think of me now?
When I put down my glass and turned toward th e door, Smoky Hill was there. He looked sort of strange, an d right then I knew I was in for it.
'Choc," he said, "Ash Milo wants to see you up o n the hill."
Chapter 18
WHEN I WALKED OUT on that porch I knew I was i n trouble. If Mustang Roberts had guessed right and As h Milo knew me, I was going to have to kill another man.
And I would have the problem of getting out with Liz a if she would still go with me after what she had seen.
Standing there on the porch in front of the saloon, I r olled a smoke. Inside I felt empty. I could feel the slow , heavy beating of my heart, and I had a hard time moistening my cigarette, my mouth was that dry.
That walk up the hill, only a hundred and fifty yard s or so, was the longest walk I'll ever take.
I felt the sun on my back. I could smell the grass, an d off over a distant ridge there was a fluff of white clou d that left a shadow on the salmon cliffs. It might be th e last time I'd see that sky or the cliffs.
Gray was down there in the stable. I suddenly wishe d he was saddled. I was going to need a home if I came ou t of this alive.
In my thoughts were the things I had heard. Milo wa s said to be utterly ruthless, without compassion. He ha d killed suddenly and without warning. He could be dangerous as a striking rattler, with no need to rattle befor e he struck.
Liza opened the door. But it was a taller, more lovel y Liza.
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She would be eighteen now, but there was a quie t maturity in her face that made her look older. There wa s a great sadness, too.
For a long moment our eyes held, and she searche d mine as if she expected to find something there, feared t o find it.
"Rye," she said, "I wanted to spare you this. I wante d to." And then she stepped aside and I stepped into th e door and I was looking at Ash Milo.
Only I knew him . . . I knew him well. He was th e man I had admired most in the world. He was the ma n I had looked up to and respected. The man who had bee n my friend when I had no other. He was Logan Pollard.
He was slimmer, older. His hair was mixed with gray , his face was drawn tighter and harder, and his lips ha d thinned down. Above all, there was in him a tension I di d not recall. Always, he had seemed so thoroughly calm, s o relaxed, so much in command of himself and all aroun d him.
As though it were yesterday, I remembered the day h e interceded for me and stopped McGarry from giving me a whipping. I remembered the day he saved me from th e horse thieves when I had walked into a gun battle wit h them. I remembered the advice he had given me.
He walked toward me, smiling that tight smile, and h e held out his hand.
"Rye!" he said. "Rye, it's really you! After all thi s time!"
There was no hesitation in me. I grabbed his hand an d held it hard, and he looked into my eyes and smiled.
"You've made a name for yourself, Rye. And you'v e stayed on the right side of the law. I'm glad."
"So that's why you kept your outfit away from m y town," I said. "You were protecting me."
He smiled, still that tight, quick smile. Only this tim e there was a hint of cynicism in it, and a little mockery.
"No, Rye. I've always known you. I knew if we eve r crossed you, we were in real trouble.
"You see, Rye," his voice was almost gentle, "a bo y who will fight back when his father is killed is a natura l boy. He does what anyone would do, given a chance.
"But you were different. You followed those Indians , and you killed at least one. Moreover, I saw you fac e McGarry. You weren't afraid. There was iron in you. . . ."
to Tame a Land (1955) Page 14