by J. T. Edson
‘Well,’ said Sir James. ‘It’s over now. Norma and Freda have both recovered from the shock of what happened in my study. It was just a bluff on the part of Mallick saying I intended to take over the bank notes. So he could put pressure on the small ranchers. Of course I insist on paying for all damages caused by my men.’
‘There’s no call for that,’ objected Ralph Gibbs. ‘They weren’t your—’
‘They rode for my brand and ignorance of their actions is no excuse. I ought to have known what they were doing. By the by, Ralph, did you and your lady talk over my offer?’
‘Yeah. We’ll take you up on it. And we both thank you for making it.’
Only Dusty of the others knew of the offer. Full compensation for his injuries and the damages to his property. Then if he wished, to sell his land to Keller, and take over as foreman of the Double K, with a house built on the property. Joyce and Gibbs discussed the matter at length and decided to give up trying to run a one-horse spread one step ahead of bankruptcy and take the security of a good post as foreman of the Double K.
‘The only thanks I’ll need, old son,’ Sir James said with a grin. ‘is that you get this spread working. How about getting hands?’ Sir James suddenly grinned again and remembered his position as host. He changed the subject and for a few minutes the men talked over past happenings and future plans. Then the party broke up for the trail bosses wished to get back to their herds and the others to their various tasks.
On the porch Sir James Keller shook hands with Captain Dusty Fog. Of all the others Dusty had got on best with the Englishman for they were much alike and, had Dusty been born in the same circumstances as Sir James he would most likely have carried the same three letters before his name.
‘I owe you a lot, Dusty,’ Sir James said. ‘You can rely on me to keep the Old Trail open. Give me time and I might even make a Texan.’
‘Yeah,’ Dusty agreed, shaking hands with the other man while Mark and the Kid waited with the horses ready to ride north once more after the OD Connected herd. ‘You might at that. We’ll come down this way and see how you’re settling in. And don’t worry, you’ll have hands coming looking for work, maybe even some of the old crew when word gets out. Ralph Gibbs’ll pick you good men.’
He turned and went to his horse where Freda Lasalle stood.
‘You remember to come in and visit any time you’re out this way,’ she said.
‘We’ll do that, gal,’ Mark promised. ‘See you sometime.’
Waco stood by Clay Allison and watched the three men riding away. He felt empty, lost and sick. Some instinct told him that his destiny stood before him. The chance to change from a trigger-fast-and-up-from-Texas kid to a respected man. But he took on with Clay Allison to finish the drive and a man did not walk out on his responsibilities just because it suited him to do so. He must finish his drive and hope to meet the man who he now regarded as his idol again.
‘Dusty was telling me as how he needed another hand to help him with the OD Connected herd,’ Clay remarked. ‘Asked if I could spare one. So I said I’d more hands than I need. Could let one go all right.’
Now it lay before Waco. The chance he wanted. He knew his life would change, his very outlook must change if he rode after Dusty Fog. He knew he would most likely work harder than ever he did with Clay Allison. Against that he knew that he must get clear of Clay Affison, or forever be marked with the CA brand. Sure he might become a tophand, but always folks would say, ‘He rode for Clay Allison’ and think twice before hiring him just for cattle work.
For the first time in his life Waco faced up to what he was becoming. Five men died before his guns since he left his adopted home. Five men failed to beat him to the shot in arguments which might have been passed over. Each time the other man asked for death. But there came a time when a man with intelligence asked himself where it all would end.
Waco had the answer. It could end here — or with him riding the same trail as many another fast Texas boy.
He held out his hand to Clay Allison, reading Clay’s hope that he would follow Dusty Fog, reading the thought behind it, that Clay did not want Waco to become like him.
‘Thanks, Clay,’ Waco said.
He mounted the big paint stallion and rode after Dusty Fog.
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GET URREA! by J. T. EDSON
On 27th March 1836, General Jose Urrea ordered the coldblooded killing of almost four hundred Texian prisoners of war . . .
When news of the massacre reached General Samuel Houston, commander of the newly formed Army of the Republic of Texas, he was placed on the horns of a dilemma. For political reasons, he couldn’t permit any official reprisals to be taken against Urrea, but he knew that something had to be done to stop the madman from striking again . . .
There was just one man who could help the General out of his predicament. To this man the General issued an unofficial order — an order which he knew would be practically impossible to carry out. That order was ‘GET URREA!’ The man in question was Captain Jackson Baines Hardin, and men said he was ‘a Il ole devil in a fight’.
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SACKETT’S LAND by Louis L’Amour
My first realization, after an immediate stab of fear, was that the Indians wore no paint. There were stories enough in England about Indians painting for war.
‘Put your weapons out of sight,’ I said, ‘below the gunwhales. I think they are peaceful.’ The canoes slowed their pace, gliding down to us, and then a hand lifted, palm outward, and I recognized Potaka.
‘It is my friend,’ I explained.
Rufisco snorted, ‘No Indian is your friend,’ he said, ‘Keep your gun handy.’
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THE CALIFORNIOS by Louis L’Amour
Somewhere, in the mountains of California, there was gold. And the only man who knew where to find that gold was a strange old Indian, known as Juan . . .
The Mulkerins were Irish — a fierce, proud and independent family. But through a run of bad luck they found themselves in the debt of Zeke Wooston — a hard, cruel man who was just waiting to take their ranch if they didn’t pay up. It looked as though the Mulkerins were going to have to fight Zeke’s gang and the Law — until Sean Mulkerin remembered the story of the gold . . .
If only they could find the gold, their troubles would be over but first they had to find Juan — and time was running out — fast . . .
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