Milo Talon

by Louis L'Amour

  “This gold you tell of? Would it be far off?”

  “Not if I’ve read the paper right. If I’ve read it clear it’s not very far away.”

  “You’ve got it?”

  “No, that other girl has it. Or I think she has. I might be able to remember—I don’t know, but I think I could find it. If you’d give me half.”

  “Of course,” Bess replied. “Why not?”

  She turned away and as she stepped Molly threw a loop of her leg chain forward, neatly catching the older woman around the ankle. Molly had been thinking of just that and she was watching her chance: it came suddenly when Bess was momentarily distracted, considering the gold.

  Molly made a quick sweep with her ankle, looping the chain around the older woman’s leg and jerking back hard as she stepped. Bess fell, striking the floor with her head, momentarily stunned. It gave Molly a chance to draw back her arms ready to swing her handcuff chain at the other woman’s head.

  “Don’t do it, Molly,” Milo said and stepped into the room.

  Caught in mid-swing, Molly stopped. “I thought you’d been killed,” she said. “I thought—”

  “I know.” He stooped and took the keys from Bess’s pocket. “Don’t try to get up,” he told the older woman. “You just lie still and make it easy on yourself.”

  THAT WAS THE way it happened, and when I look back on it I guess I got there just in time to keep Molly from having to kill Bess. Or maybe just to knock her out, you never knew.

  We didn’t waste time around. I caught up her horse, saddled up, and we rode out, hitting the trail south for Westcliffe, a town we’d heard of off to the south. Before we rode out I told that old lady, “I don’t know what kind of a shebang you’ve been running here, but you better get yourself a new partner. That one who followed me, well, he fell into something he wasn’t expecting.”

  That extra pistol I had, taken from the old man, I handed that to Molly. “You may need this. We’ve got a far piece to ride, and some rough country in between.”

  “I never thought I’d be so glad to see anybody.”

  “Looked to me like you were doing all right,” I said. “Would you have killed her?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so, but I don’t know. I was scared.”

  “I been scared, too,” I said, “I’m scared right now.”

  When we topped out on a slope of Mitchell Mountain I looked back. There was dust hanging near Falling Rock Gulch.

  Well, we had two good horses and a clear track.

  CHAPTER 24

  MIDNIGHT HAD LONG been past when we rode into the dark and silent streets of the town. There was a light in the hotel, as usual, but aside from a scattered light or two from homes it might have been a ghost town. We rode down the street to Maggie’s, and German opened at our knock.

  “Been worried,” he said, “there’s been all sorts of talk about town. Folks are sayin’ you stole two of Maggie’s horses?”

  “We rode out on them, then turned them loose. They should find their way back today or tomorrow.”

  “She’s mad, mad as all get out. Wants Molly out of here. I told her she had a third share and she said she’d heard that but didn’t believe it. When she was still all wrought up, I offered to buy her out.”

  “And—?”

  “She sold. Never thought she would but she was mad, mad clean through. She sold and I bought.” He grinned ruefully. “All I’ve got to do is come up with the rest of the money—today.”

  “Has John Topp been around?”

  “Almost every day. The car’s back. That private car’s on the siding yonder, just where it used to be.”

  “Baggott?”

  “He’s been in. Eats, minds his own affairs, leaves. Goes to church of a Sunday. Talks to nobody except to the parson at church.”

  “You a churchgoer, German?” I was surprised.

  “Raised thataway.” He smiled slyly. “Used to sing in a choir one time, when I was a boy. Ain’t sung much but campfire songs since.”

  He fixed us something to eat in the kitchen. “Lots of talk,” he repeated, “words gotten around that old Nathan Albro left some money. Folks say there’s millions hid someplace.”

  “Maybe,” I said, “but Nathan Albro was a canny man. My bet is that those millions aren’t hidden at all. They are nicely invested some place and earning money. He didn’t make many mistakes.”

  Finishing my coffee, I stood up. “I’m going to the hotel to try to get some sleep. Luckily, I’d been paying well in advance these last few days.”

  “Be careful. Milo, please be careful,” Molly put a hand on my sleeve. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Better than with me, probably,” I said. “But stay close. This is going to be a bad, bad day. I can feel it.”

  Taking the horses to the stable, I rubbed them down and fed them. The last they liked, the former was a surprise, but I had an idea we might need them and I wanted them in good shape and ready.

  So far as could be seen, my room was undisturbed. A quick glance at the roofs across the way showed nothing, and the street below was empty, although morning was not far off.

  The first order of business was Jefferson Henry. I’d found the girl he wanted and he could have her. They deserved each other.

  No bed ever felt so good as that one. I stretched out, groaned a little from sheer relief, and went promptly to sleep.

  The sun was bright when I came down the stairs in the morning. For a moment I hesitated at the foot of the stairs, searching the street.

  It was busy, as expected. A man sweeping the boardwalk, a wagon and a team tied near the supply store, a rider going past, and two women picking up their skirts as they stepped up on the boardwalk.

  “Get back last night?”

  The clerk was leaning on the desk. “Folks been asking for you.” He paused. “You staying on?”

  “A few more days.”

  “Maggie said if you came back to throw you out.” He smiled, shrugging. “Maggie doesn’t come down very often and she’ll not know you’re staying. Anyway, as long as you pay your bill I’ve no excuse.”

  “Thanks.”

  “A couple of Taylor’s men have been around. You’d better take the thong off that gun.” It was good advice and I acted accordingly. “You buy that story about Albro’s millions being around here somewhere?”

  “No. He was too canny a man.”

  “Folks say that’s what they’re all after, him in the private car, Maggie, Rolon Taylor, Pride Hovey, and you.”

  “People like to talk.” I was watching the street and thinking. “If you think about it you’ll realize Albro wasn’t the kind to have idle money lying about. Wherever that money is, it’s well invested, you can bet on that.”

  “Maybe.” He shrugged. “Ain’t as much fun as buried gold. That’s the story people like. Some of them say you and that girl know where it’s at.”

  “Wish we did,” I said grimly. “I’d have ridden out of here like my tail was afire.”

  First, Jefferson Henry. Moving to the door, I glanced up and down the street, then at the upper windows across the street. Only then did I walk outside.

  Oh, I was noticed all right! From what the clerk and German had said I knew the whole town was talking and it made an exciting story.

  The car stood on its siding within a few feet of where it had been before. I swung aboard and rapped lightly. Almost at once the door opened and the tall, dignified black man ushered me back to the office. A moment later, Jefferson Henry came in, buttoning his vest. There were bags under his eyes and he looked tired.

  He stared at me without pleasure. “I wasn’t expecting to see you,” he said, “running around the country like you’ve been.”

  “You asked me to find a girl. I found her.”

  He did not seem surprised. “Oh?”

  “And if I were you I’d leave her alone. She’s trouble.”

  “I hired you to find her, not for your opin
ions.”

  “All right, I’ve found her. She calls herself Anne now and she is living, or was living, in Fisher’s Hole. She has some very tough characters with her but she seems to be in charge.”

  “All right. You can go.”

  “First, one thousand dollars bonus. I found her.”

  He stared at me, and I waited. “You don’t deserve it.”

  My smile only irritated him the more, but I said, “Whether I deserved it or not was not the question. That was your offer and I’ve completed the job.”

  He sat down heavily. “All right.” He wrote out a check on the local bank. “Take it and get out.”

  “This had better be good,” I said.

  “It’s good.” He looked up suddenly. “Had you ever seen her before?”

  “Yes. She’d been to our ranch. Stayed a little while.”

  That at least pleased him. “I thought so. Did you know where she was hiding out?”

  “No, I didn’t, and I don’t think she was hiding. I think she was just waiting.”

  “Waiting?”

  “Yes, I believe she was just waiting for you, or for somebody else, to find her. I think she wanted to settle matters out of sight and in a place she could just ride away from when it was over.

  “She was waiting for you, and looking for somebody else.”

  That puzzled him, and disturbed him, too. He glanced at me. “Now who would that be?”

  “You’ve paid me,” I said, “I’m no longer in your employ, but just a little advice, whether you want it or not. Don’t go looking for Anne Henry or whatever she calls herself. Leave well enough alone. Take what you’ve got and run.”

  He lunged up from the desk, eyes bulging. “Take what I’ve got? What do you know, you damned cowboy! What do you know about what I’ve worked for, planned for, struggled for all these years? Leave now? I’d have to be crazy!

  “I could finish what Albro started! I could run that railroad through to the Gulf! There’s millions in it! Albro knew! If I give up now, what will there be left?”

  “Your life,” I said, and walked out.

  Not being a trusting man, I went at once to the bank. The check was good.

  I had my money, the job was done, and I could ride out with a clear conscience. After all, I had agreed to find a girl. I’d found her. I’d wanted a stake so I could drift for a few months without worry. On this much I was good for a year, maybe two if I was careful. The livery barn was yonder and my horse getting too fat for his own good. Half my riding here lately had been on other people’s horses.

  So why didn’t I go?

  Well, I hadn’t had breakfast, for one thing. Least I could do was drop around and see German one more time. And Molly, of course.

  She was all right. She owned a piece of a restaurant and had a good friend in German. Soon she’d know everybody in town. She would have made a place for herself. So what was I worrying about?

  Anne was still around, and Anne had no liking for Molly. Furthermore, Molly had something or knew something Anne wanted.

  Baggott was still around, and Rolon Taylor’s boys were packing a grudge. But they were my trouble, not hers.

  John Topp? The trouble I’d expected from him had never developed, and now that I was free of Jefferson Henry, it would not.

  Three or four tough-looking men loitered outside the Golden Spur, a short distance beyond Maggie’s. They watched me coming, one of them standing with his feet wide apart, a toothpick in his teeth, facing me. I felt like walking down and belting him but didn’t.

  Maggie’s Place was quiet when I came in. Only Ribble, that trainman, was there drinking coffee.

  Dropping into a chair, I hung my hat on the back of another one. Molly came in smiling. “Thought I’d come around an’ say good-bye,” I said, careless-like.

  “Good-bye?”

  “Well, you’re back here safe with German. You’ve got yourself a nice little business, and I just collected what Jefferson Henry paid me for finding Anne.”

  “She may not be there now.”

  “That’s his problem. I warned him to leave her alone.”

  Molly brought my breakfast and sat down with me. “You’re going then? Really?”

  “Might as well,” I said. “There’s a lot of country I haven’t seen.”

  “German warned me that you were a drifter. He said you were fiddle-footed.”

  It was true, damn it, but nevertheless it irritated me that he should tell her that. Made me seem kind of no-account. A stir of movement made me look up. Ribble was coming across the room. “None of my business,” he said, “but I sort of like the way you do things. There’s talk around that you’re not getting out of town alive. I think it’s some of Rolon Taylor’s outfit.”

  “Thanks,” I said. Looking over at Molly, I said, “I should have gone for my horse instead of coming in for breakfast.”

  She just looked at me and I couldn’t think of anything to say, when all the time I had the feeling that this was the time I should be saying something.

  Rolon Taylor’s men? Maybe that fellow who had faced me from down the walk. Now what did he want? Now I’m not a trouble-hunting man, but at the same time, when somebody is after you with trouble on his mind he’s hard to avoid in a small town like this one. If a man rode into one end of the street and started to say “I’m just passing through!”, by the time he’d said it he had.

  By this time everybody in town would know that I sometimes walked from the hotel to Maggie’s along the back side of the buildings. Things like that don’t pass unnoticed, and when there’s mighty little to talk about it gets to be mentioned.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  “Why, I’m going out there. I’d better start toward them or they’ll shoot me in the back.”

  “I’ve got a shotgun,” German said.

  “You stay out of it. If there’s trouble it came with me, and when I go I’ll take it with me.”

  Breakfast tasted mighty good and I lingered over my coffee. There would be more than one of them out there and they would be out to do me in. They were wise enough to scatter out so I couldn’t bunch my shots.

  “German,” I said, “do you ever sweep the walk this time of day?”

  “Sometimes,” he said, “sometimes I do.”

  “Why don’t you sweep it now,” I suggested, “and while you’re about it just give me a rough idea of how those men are positioned?”

  He took up his broom and swept some imaginary dust out of the front door, then followed to sweep it off the walk. Almost involuntarily my eyes lifted to the window across the street. It was open at least six inches.

  That, too. Might be happenstance, of course.

  German came back in. “There’s four of them, at least. One’s across the street, two of them by the water-trough in front of the Spur, and one’s sitting on the bench this side of the Spur. They’ve got a plan and they are ready.”

  “Don’t go out there, Milo! Please!” Molly’s eyes were wide and scared.

  “Now, Molly, those boys have gone to all that trouble just to show me some attention. Least I can do is acknowledge it.”

  “Folks are gettin’ off the street,” German said. “The word’s out.”

  “See? There’s no way I can disappoint all those people. Supposin’ they got off the street and then nothing happened?”

  Now I was taking it easy-like, but believe me, I didn’t feel all that good inside. Of course, I had it to do. They’d wait and wait and then finally they’d come after me, endangering both German and Molly. It was up to me to go out there but I wanted a plan in mind, so I did some thinking on how they were situated.

  “No use waiting,” I said, “but keep the coffee hot. I’ll be back for another cup.”

  Molly came to me with the old man’s six-shooter I’d taken. “Take this,” she said, “you may need an extra.”

  Now that was a thoughtful lady!

  I put a hand on the doorknob. I had to get
clear of the door—one quick step, and—!

  Nobody could have done it quicker, smoother, or better. When I went through that door it was slick as a whistle and I already had a gun in my hand.

  They went for theirs and I saw a fifth and a sixth man suddenly step into view, one of them with a rifle.

  CHAPTER 25

  WHEN I REACHED the street and saw all those men out there I thought I’d bought my ticket. The man facing me about thirty feet off was that one who had stood spraddle-legged across the walk. I never shot a man with pleasure, but this came almost to that point.

  He had a tobacco-sack tag hanging out of his shirt pocket and my bullet cut the lower inside edge off it. Just about that time I heard a boom from up and behind me, a boom that sounded like a Sharps .50.

  The man in the street center went to his knees, tried to get up and then fell again, and then there was shooting from farther along and I saw Pablo and Felipe out there, cutting down some of Taylor’s men. The Big Fifty boomed again and all of a sudden that street was empty except for those who were down and my own friends.

  Turning around to look for that Big Fifty, I saw that upstairs window closing.

  There were four men down in the street, one struggling to get up, the rest of them no longer paying mind to anything.

  Pablo and Felipe walked toward me and Pablo said, “This is all. They are finish.”

  “Rolon Taylor—?”

  “Finish. Shelby come down, burn him out. Taylor rustle cows, stampede horse herd, shoot me. Shelby say you got ten seconds, ride out or hang to those trees. They are gone, all gone.”

  My eyes went to Felipe. “You work for Shelby?”

  He lit the cold cigarette in his teeth and spoke around it. “I work for nobody.”

  “Well—thanks, Felipe.”

  He threw the match into the street. “Por nada.” He touched a finger to the edge of his sombrero and walked away toward the Golden Spur.

  People were coming from doors along the street, some of them stared at the bodies, some walked hurriedly away. Pablo was walking after Felipe. Turning, I went back to the hotel.