King Colt

by Short, Luke;

  Fitz eyed her keenly. “You think he planted it?”

  “I don’t know, Major Fitz. Johnny didn’t, either.”

  Major Fitz rapped on the counter and bellowed, “Bledsoe! Bledsoe!”

  A clerk called the storekeeper, who hustled over to Fitz and Nora. Bledsoe looked harried, as if he had spent a sleepless night, and his manner contrived to be both ingratiating and defiant.

  “You’re a commissioner here, Bledsoe. Why can’t you do something about clearing Hendry?” he snorted. “You know as well as I do that he didn’t do it!”

  Bledsoe shrugged. “What can we commissioners do, Major Fitz?”

  “Get a decent sheriff!” Fitz answered sharply. “You had one and let him go.”

  “Please,” Nora said, putting a restraining hand on Major Fitz’s arm. “He did what he could, Major Fitz.”

  Fitz scowled, and drummed on the counter top with his fingers. “Do you think it would do any good to give Baily Blue a dressing down?”

  “It never has, has it?” Bledsoe asked.

  Suddenly, a gleam of inspiration appeared in Major Fitz’s eye. “I’m going to talk with that gentleman,” he declared firmly. Maybe he’ll change his tune. You wait until I get back and you’ll hear something,” he promised, as he tipped his hat to Nora and walked out of the store.

  Baily Blue was in his office. Fitz stomped in and closed the door, and immediately he relaxed.

  “Take a chair,” Baily said amiably. “It ain’t often you pay me a call in broad daylight.”

  Fitz chuckled and sat down. “Are we alone?”

  Baily nodded.

  “That was a nice job at the bank,” Fitz said. “Where’d you cache the stuff?”

  “Two bars are in this bottom drawer here,” Baily drawled, indicating his desk. “The other two are under a bunch of junk in the closet.”

  “Tell me about it,” Fitz said. “How’d Hendry take it?”

  “Just like we thought he would. The girl kept him from flyin’ off the handle, Turk Hebron jumped me, and then they decided to run. They had Leach and his hardcases figured pretty good. It was Turk that said Leach would likely breed a lynch mob.”

  “Did they suspect you?”

  “I don’t think so. They think I crooked the election, all right, but Hendry said he didn’t think I framed this bank robbery on him.” Baily grinned slyly. “I’m quite an old duffer, Fitz. They got me down for a little bit of a fox, but that’s all. Johnny don’t think I’m crooked. Leastways I never give him cause to while he was my deputy.”

  Fitz nodded. “I’ve got an idea. I was just talking to the girl, and to Bledsoe. Of course, they believe it’s a frame-up. I sided in with them, naturally. But I want to make my sympathy look plenty real now, Baily. We’ve got too much at stake for them to suspect me.”

  “That’s right.”

  “I’m supposed to be in here now, arguing with you. When I go out, I’m going to tell them I’ve offered a thousand dollars reward for the capture of the real bank robbers—not Hendry and Hebron and Brender. That’ll leave you in the clear, since you only did your duty in trying to arrest them on the evidence found. You haven’t put a reward on their heads. This bounty I offer for the bandits will be with your full knowledge. You can say in public that you approve it, providing anybody can prove to you that it wasn’t Johnny and those other two.” He paused, regarding Baily. How does it sound?”

  “I dunno. There’s a lot of feelin’ against me.”

  “All right. That’s a way to show you’re open-minded, isn’t it?”

  “I reckon. Only don’t say we’ve had a row about it. Say I was reasonable and agreeable, that I was only doin’ my duty.”

  “Fine.” Fitz shifted in his chair and pointed a finger at Baily. “Here’s something else that will give it weight, Baily. Tonight have Leach Wigran steal a hundred head of steers off that south range of mine. They’ll be along the creek, with no one riding herd. I’ll have them pushed over today. It’ll make it look like the robbers—just to mock my reward offer—are beginning to raid my stock.”

  “What’ll the company say about that?” Baily asked.

  “I’ll take care of the company. I haven’t showed them any losses so far. Besides, once the excitement has blown over, the steers can be returned, can’t they?”

  “Sure.” Baily plucked at his lower lip. “You don’t want anything planted, do you, like somethin’ of Temple’s or Hart’s or kennicott’s—anything from one of them honest ranchers?”

  Fitz shook his head. “Not a thing. All I’m interested in doing is showing the girl and Bledsoe and anybody else who’s apt to make trouble that my sympathy is with Johnny.”

  “What are we goin’ to do about him?” Baily drawled.

  Fitz made a wry face. “That young man has a charmed life. First he managed to survive that shot of Carmody’s. Next, he discovered that trapdoor set-gun. I’m beginning to believe he can’t be killed.”

  “I could have told you that.”

  “Well, he’s taken care of now. At least, he can’t harm anybody where he is. And if we ever get a try at him again, we’ll make it stick.”

  Baily nodded, and Fitz rose.

  Baily said, “I’ll get those two bars up to you tonight. I’ll give the other one to Leach, like you said. Tip Rogers was in here all day rawhidin’ me to take a posse out. That all right with you?”

  “Go ahead.” Fitz started out, and suddenly turned and asked, “Has the Esmerella got a reward out?”

  “Two thousand.”

  Fitz only grinned and stepped out on the walk.

  Back at Bledsoe’s, he found Nora still talking to the storekeeper. They looked at him expectantly as he approached.

  “Well, I found him reasonable,” Fitz said briskly. “I’ve offered a thousand dollars reward for the capture of the real bank robbers—the reward not to apply to the capture of Johnny or Turk or Hank, because I don’t believe they did it.”

  “You darling!” Nora cried, and her voice was tight with gratitude.

  “What did Blue say?” Bledsoe asked.

  “Oh, he was reasonable. He said he’d only worked on the evidence he found, which was inescapable. He admitted the gun and spur might have been planted by the real robbers, but he said he only did his duty in acting on the evidence at hand.” He snorted loudly. “The fool!”

  “Let’s hope your offer will make the Esmerella officers change theirs, too,” Bledsoe said, shaking his head.

  “Three thousand dollars is a lot of money,” Fitz said wisely. “Many a man has sold out his companions for less. I believe these robbers will.”

  He chatted a moment longer, then left them. Watching his trim figure mingle with the crowd, Bledsoe, as if voicing Nora’s own thought, said, “There goes the finest man in this county—or any other county.”

  Chapter Thirteen: STUBBORN JOHNNY

  Johnny remembered a little-known water hole high in the foothills of the Calicoes that Pick had told him about long ago, and it was here they decided to make their camp. It was a long, silent ride, for all of them were disheartened at the news Johnny had brought from Hugo. It meant that every clue they had to Pick’s killer had vanished. And of the three, Johnny was the most downcast. Outlawry would have meant nothing so long as he had a chance to even Pick’s score, but now that this was gone, these long and aimless days on the dodge would be intolerable. He resolved grimly not to remain idle, waiting for chance to free him of these outcast bonds. And he had the wisdom to sense that Turk and Hank, good men that they were, would fret at idleness until one or the other of them would decide to pull out. He must have a plan, something to keep them all busy until they could pick up again the trail of Pick’s killer.

  The camp did not suit him, but in the circumstances it was the safest. Tucked in a fold of a gaunt and up-ended field of malpais, the trail to it was devious and rocky. To cross the malpais would have meant that the horses’ hoofs would be cut to ribbons, so that it was necessary to follow
a thin ribbon of arroyo which angled down through the malpais field to strew its pebbles over the glass-sharp terrain. Wood had to be hauled; there was no grass; but there was a tiny spring of good water seeping out of a crack in the black rock, and the jagged, up-thrust sides of a canyon afforded them the shelter they needed. If it was hard to get to, then it was all the safer, Johnny reasoned.

  They spent the first day making the camp livable. They raked the sand and stones out of the arroyo into a small pocket of the canyon, so their horses would have a place to move around. Wood was hauled.

  In midafternoon the work was done, and it was now, Johnny knew, that the tedium of passive waiting would begin. Turk had looked at him several times today with a question in his eyes. Hank was more phlegmatic, but Johnny knew they were both thinking the same thing.

  Squatting on his haunches against the steep side of the canyon, Johnny rolled a smoke and contemplated the camp. To Turk, who was sitting beside him, he said, “Well, it ain’t much, Turk, but then we won’t have to be in it much.”

  Turk looked at him swiftly. “How come? We’re hidin’, ain’t we?”

  Hank strolled across to join them now. Johnny waited until he, too, was seated, then said, “Hidin’? Maybe you could call it that. But if you keep movin’, you’re harder to find than if you sit still, aren’t you?”

  “But what can we do?” Hank growled. “Hunt the whole Calicoes for that claim jumper that killed Pick?”

  “Remember the proposition I made you when I thought I was goin’ to be sheriff?” Johnny countered. “Well, that still holds. We’re goin’ to clean up this county.”

  “How?”

  “Rustle from rustlers,” Johnny declared. He paused, waiting for them to comment. When they didn’t, he said, “Me, I’m not goin’ to let anybody drive me out of this county. I aim to live here. Also, I aim to be sheriff of it some day. And when I am, I’m goin’ to drive these hardcases out, just like I promised. Well, maybe that day’s far off, but I reckon I can start in to work right now.” He grinned. “Also, since I ain’t sheriff yet, I won’t be bothered by all the laws a sheriff is bothered with. I’ll fight these jaspers their way.”

  Turk looked fondly at him and laughed. “I could show you some tricks, fella.”

  “Good! That’s what I want. And Hank can learn ’em, too—just in case he’s hard up for a job some day. How about it, Hank?”

  Hank grinned and nodded. They were with him, Johnny knew.

  “When I thought I was goin’ to be sheriff,” he went on, “I went to Major Fitz with a proposition. It was this.” And he told them about the lists the ranchers had given him of the men they believed should be driven out of the county.

  “I got the answers,” Johnny finished. “Who do you think got voted the most unwanted man in Cosmos county?”

  “Me?” Turk queried.

  Johnny grinned and shook his head. “Major Fitz.”

  Turk was surprised, but Hank, remembering things he’d seen while working under Fitz on the Bar 33, was not; and Johnny, seizing on Hank’s lack of surprise, questioned him. “You’re not surprised, Hank. Why not?”

  “I dunno,” Hank said, after a moment’s thought. “There was a time when I thought Fitz was a broad-gauge hombre, a man to ride the river with. Now I dunno. I think he puts up a good front. But somethin’ goes on in his head that we don’t see.”

  “You think he could be a rustler?”

  “I don’t see how,” Hank murmured. “I worked on the Bar 33 for a long time. None of them boys was doin’ any considerable night ridin’. On the other hand, they wasn’t a good crew, about what you could expect in a company outfit.”

  “Then if Fitz doesn’t steal cattle, how’d his name get at the head of this ranchers’ list?”

  “Maybe they just got a feelin’, like I have,” Hank replied. “Remember that jasper that tried to get away with the Esmerella gold? I can’t prove it, but I feel like Fitz had somethin’ to do with that.”

  Turk said reminiscently, “I knowed a bank president once. He was the most pious son of a gun in the world. He prayed longer and louder than anybody in church. Come to find out, he was makin’ too much money out of the bank. He was tied up with a cattle-stealin’ ring. He’d pass on the word to the rustlers about who was borrowin’ money to save their places and their cattle. Then those folks would be stole blind, and the bank would foreclose on the place. He had a good thing out of it—and he never wore a gun.” He looked at Johnny. “That’s what you’re hintin’ about Fitz, ain’t it?”

  “About,” Johnny said.

  Presently Hank said, “Then if somebody’s doin’ his rustlin’ for him, who is it?”

  “What do you say, Turk?” Johnny asked. “You know all those boys.”

  “There’s only one man doin’ a real business cattle stealin’,” Turk replied. “That’s Leach Wigran. The rest of them—me, too—wasn’t swingin’ an awful wide loop. We’d take a dozen head here, and a dozen there and then quit for a month until we’d drunk it up. Once in a while some of us’d get together, but Leach was the only broad-gauge cow thief.”

  “Then Fitz would be backin’ him?” Johnny asked.

  “I never said so.”

  “He’d have to be. If not, these honest ranchers wouldn’t put him ahead of Leach Wigran on those lists, would they?”

  “Why don’t you ask ’em?” Turk drawled, grinning.

  Johnny’s lean face showed disgust. “Ask ’em? If they’re scared to sign a name to those lists, they’re scared to say it out loud, aren’t they?”

  Turk and Hank nodded.

  “All right. My plan is danged simple,” Johnny said grimly. “I think Fitz is behind Leach. I aim to get proof.”

  “How?”

  “I dunno. But I’m goin’ to saddle up in an hour and try to find out. You ridin’ with me?”

  They were. It was decided they would ride over to Leach Wigran’s spread. Perhaps by watching Leach’s movements, observing as well as they could whom he talked to, who his visitors were, and how he worked, they might turn up a clue to his tie-up with Fitz. Johnny doubted it, however; it would be too easy for Leach to ride into town and receive his orders, either from Fitz or, more likely, from somebody sent by Fitz. Even by letter. Nevertheless, he couldn’t afford to pass up any bets.

  But first Johnny had another errand. Hugo had promised to deliver Johnny’s message to Nora last night. She was to meet him east of town tonight, above the road to the Esmerella mine, just after dark. This would be on their way to Wigran’s, and Johnny timed their ride so that they approached Cosmos just as dusk was settling into night.

  The meeting-place was a huge old cedar on a sloping butte, from whose top the lights of Cosmos could plainly be seen. Johnny approached the place cautiously. He saw a horse tied under the tree and dismounted and walked slowly over.

  A voice said, “Johnny!” and in another moment, Nora was in his arms.

  Johnny laughed huskily as she buried her face against his chest. “I’m a better outlaw than you think, honey,” he said gently. “They haven’t got me yet.”

  “Oh, when will this be over, Johnny?” Nora asked despairingly. “Today, Baily Blue got a posse out hunting for you.”

  “That’s queer,” Johnny murmured, trying to see Nora’s face in the dark. “He never bothered to do that before.”

  “Tip Rogers insisted.”

  “Tip?” Johnny asked softly. “So he’s leadin’ the pack now.”

  “He was responsible for that gold that was stolen.”

  “Does he think I took it?”

  Nora only nodded, and Johnny’s jaw set a little more grimly in that darkness. This was the way things went, then. Your friends, like a pack of snarling dogs, only waited until you were down to jump on you.

  He led Nora over to the tree, and they sat down, and Johnny asked for more news from Cosmos.

  “Yesterday Major Fitz posted a thousand-dollar reward for the bank robbers,” Nora said quietly, “with this p
rovision—that the reward should not apply to the capture of you or Turk or Hank.” She paused. “You see he does believe in you, Johnny.”

  Johnny said dryly, “Does he?”

  Why do you say that?” Nora asked swiftly.

  “Remember the ranchers’ list?”

  “That’s foolish!” Nora said vehemently. “Do you still believe that?”

  “Eight men out of ten—all honest—can’t be that far off.”

  “But what evidence have you?” Nora cried. “Are you going to believe all the gossip you hear about a friend? You’re bitter at Tip, I know, because he believes the worst of you. And now you’re doing the same cruel thing to Major Fitz!”

  Johnny had no answer to that. Still, he couldn’t change his convictions. It was useless to tell Nora anything his judgment was based upon; it wouldn’t convince her either. So he remained silent, feeling her anger against him but stubbornly refusing to try to justify himself.

  Nora was stubborn, too. “I’d like you to explain a little, Johnny. You seem to doubt that Major Fitz believes in you.”

  “He may believe in my ability,” Johnny said carefully. “But I doubt if he believes in the same thing I do—and you do—that this county deserves to be cleaned up.”

  “What cause have you to say that?” Nora demanded angrily. “Just because eight sneaking ranchers who hadn’t the courage to accuse a man to his face did have the courage to do it behind his back?”

  “Among other things.”

  “What other things?”

  Johnny said wearily, “Darlin’, you wear long spurs. Let it go. Let’s talk about the weather.”

  “What other things?” Nora insisted.

  “They don’t matter,” Johnny said stubbornly. “This vote of the ranchers is good enough for me.”

  Nora got to her feet, and Johnny rose to face her. “Major Fitz is my friend,” Nora said coldly. “He is yours, too.”

  Johnny did not trust himself to speak. “First, he offered you the foremanship of the Bar 33 last year,” Nora went on accusingly. “Then he advised you to run for sheriff. His men all voted for you. He was the first man to approve your scheme of this poll of undesirables. He gave you his best man to act as your deputy. He tore up heaven and earth for you when he heard you’d been framed. And to top that, Johnny, he has offered a thousand dollars reward for the real bank robbers.” She paused, and Johnny could almost feel her contempt. “And now, in your deep gratitude, you believe what eight cowardly ranchers have to say against him without giving the least bit of proof!” She paused, waiting for Johnny to speak. He didn’t. “Haven’t you anything to say for yourself, Johnny?”