Trouble Shooter (1974)

by L'amour, Louis - Hopalong 04

  Drawing back, Hopalong waited. The man was Krug, and he came out of the crack almost at a trot. He was starting for his horse when Hopalong spoke. "Let go your gun belt, Krug."

  The man's shoulders hunched as from a blow, and slowly he turned. Bitterly he glared at Hopalong. "I was a durned fool! Should have kept goin' when I had the chance!"

  "That's right," Cassidy agreed. "Now drop your guns."

  Reluctantly, but with careful hands, Krug unbuckled his belt and stepped back. "Believe it if you want to," he said, "but I was fixin' to slope. I'd been settin' up there watchin' for you, an' thinkin'. Then I saw you were out there, an' until I lost you, I figured to make a fight of it. All I wanted when I started for my horse was to get up an' get out."

  "Sorry." Hopalong was stern. "You had your chance."

  Turning the man around, Hopalong tied his hands, then

  tripped him up and bound his feet, rolling him into the shade of a boulder. "What if you don't come back?" he pleaded. "Suppose they get you?"

  Hopalong did not relent. "Then I'd say you were in a bad

  spot."

  He squatted on his haunches. "Where are they? You're going to be tried for that stage holdup, but if you tell me, I'll put in a good word. I can't do more than that now."

  "Reckon you can't." Krug was silent. "They got that Blair girl. She rode right into us. I don't hold with that. She's a fine person, but I knew better than tryin' to reason with Saxx or Tredway." He was silent again. "I never been to the place. All I know is that a canyon branches off Chimney Creek a ways up. No water in it most of the time, but a mile or so up, there's a good spring an' a water hole. There's shelvin' cliffs all along there an' plenty of shelter. I think they mean to hole up there while decidin' what to do next."

  An hour later Hopalong and Topper had reached the bottom of Chimney Creek Canyon and were slowly moving up the canyon. At this point it was no more than two hundred feet deep and could be climbed at almost any point by a man on foot. He glimpsed no trails that would allow a horse to travel. The tracks of the outlaws were only occasionally to be glimpsed, but there was now no way for them to escape from the canyon.

  He eased up and let Topper drink from a small pool of water that had gathered in the shade of the slope. From here on he must proceed with the utmost caution, for the men he pursued could be waiting around any rock or turn in the narrow canyon. He shoved his hat back and wiped his forehead with his ban--

  danna. As he looked at the slope above the pool he saw something strange.

  A boot.

  It was hanging over the edge of a large rock just thirty feet away and the way that the heel stuck out indicated that there was a foot in it!

  Moving slowly so as not to betray his alarm, Hopalong dismounted and slipped the thongs off of his six-guns. His mind racing, he walked to the shallow place where the water had collected. There was no cover! The rock with the man on top of it was near, very near. No doubt if the ambusher had moved to peer over the rock edge, Hopalong would have seen him immediately; it ./as only his protruding foot that had offered a warning. If he continued on either up or down the canyon, it was certain that he would end up shot in the back; it was only the hidden man's unwillingness to take on a man who was approaching his position that had saved him so far.

  Unable to think of a better plan, Hopalong took a deep breath and shucked one of his guns. "All right, Topper," he said clearly and loudly, "let's move on."

  Then he whirled, and hit the slope running as fast as he could! Rocks and dirt slid as he scrambled up, his gun held in front of him in one hand, the other grasping at brush and boulders for handholds as he climbed. As he came up over the edge of the rock where the unseen man was bedded down, he knew that fast as he was he had climbed too slowly and made far too much noise. He thumbed back the hammer of his gun and braced himself to take a bullet.

  The man lay sprawled on the rock ledge, facedown. He had

  not moved. Hoppy straightened and stood over him, sucking deep breaths and trying to steady himself. The man he had thought was a hidden ambusher was already dead!

  Torn brush and furrowed earth on the slope above showed that he had fallen while making his way down into the canyon. The angle of his neck to his shoulders was so extreme that it must have been broken when he hit the rock ledge. Hopalong holstered the gun and turned the man over. It was the man he had seen in Kachina, the man Pike had told him was Tote Brown. Dried blood on his jaw indicated that he had been dead for many hours, if not days.

  Hopalong Cassidy sat on the edge of the rock looking down at Topper. He waited until his pulse had returned to normal before sliding back down to the pool, mounting his horse, and continuing his cautious way up the canyon.

  He heard them before he saw them. It was a sound of voices and the sharp crack of a breaking stick. Looking hurriedly about him, he saw a gap in a mass of mountain mahogany that covered one area near the north wall of the canyon. Leading Topper back into the gap, he found a space some dozen feet across with a little grass and plenty of cover. Tying Topper, Hopalong switched his boots for a pair of moccasins he always carried, and taking his rifle and canteen, he slipped out and started up the canyon wall.

  When he could overlook their camp, he saw at once that they had an almost impregnable position. The country above the canyon walls was wild and lonely, a region of jumbled boulders, scattered juniper, and that look an untrammeled country has. He was now, he could see, west of Brushy Knoll. Babylon Mesa

  was behind him and ran off to the north, a towering wall of rock; this country was wild, uninhabited, and virtually unknown.

  The canyon deepened and narrowed, and the walls grew steeper. If there was any way into that canyon but the way he had come, it was not visible, nor was there any indication of an entrance. Almost below him was the camp. He could smell the smoke, he could dimly hear the voices, but he could see nothing from where he lay. Below him there was the sound of running water and a freshness that comes only from the presence of water and vegetation.

  As he lay there he began to plan, searching every corner of his mind for an idea. To face the lot of them would be useless and would only mean failure and death. Neither Tredway nor Saxx would hesitate to take a chance, and while he might get one of them, he would not get the other. And there were still three men down there, dangerous, hunted men, at least two of them killers.

  He moved closer to the rim, listening. Voices came to him faintly at first, then clearer.

  Cindy Blair was thoroughly frightened. She was courageous, used to the harshness of Western life; she understood her own situation better than most women could have. She knew the manner of men who held her prisoner, and knew none of them was to be trusted. If there was any hope, it lay in Pres, but he was the least forceful of the lot and the least likely to help her even if he wished. Krug had remained to kill Hopalong Cassidy. The fact that several shots had been heard disturbed the outlaws.

  "Aw, he'll get him!" Saxx protested to Tredway. "He was probably just finishing Cassidy off."

  Tredway's face seemed to have thinned down and grown more hawklike. His eyes were bitter and lighted by something else, something wild and dangerous. "Then where is he? One shot's all you need!" he snapped angrily. "I should have stayed there myself!"

  Pres looked from one to the other. "What'll them Brothers do?" he asked cautiously.

  Tredway advanced on him, his eyes vicious. "Do? What do you think they'll do? They'll come out of their holes like a pack of wolves, that's what! And make up your minds to this! If they get us now, it will be all of us, not just me!" "What did they want you for?" Saxx asked. "None of your business!" Tredway wheeled on him, half-crouched. "When I want questions from you, I'll ask for them!" Bill Saxx gave Tredway a cold, measuring glance. "That's no way to talk," he said calmly. "We're all in this together. I don't aim to take that kind of talk. I don't work for you any longer, an' I didn't spring you from the Brothers to start taking orders again."

  The eyes of the
two men held. That weird look in Tredway's eyes disturbed Saxx, but he did not show it. The men glared at each other, and then Pres spoke up. "Aw, forget it! Why start fightin' among ourselves? We got troubles enough!"

  Tredway relaxed slowly, then shrugged. "That's right. Sorry, Bill."

  Saxx watched him as he turned away, and he was puzzled. He had never seen Tredway flash a gun on anybody, although he had seen him shoot, and he was good. Very good. But right then he would have sworn the boss was a gunman. That quick turn, the poised right hand, the left... He scowled. That left hand had been across in front of Tredway, poised palm down.

  It came to him suddenly. He had seen such a pose once before. The man using it had been a gun fanner.

  Cindy Blair had seen it, too, and she also had recognized it for what it was. From Rig and Pike she had heard the stories of the Ben Hardy gang, and suddenly she was looking at Tredway with new, attentive eyes. She added more fuel to the fire, and when the coffee started to bubble, she dished up the rest of the food they had forced her to prepare.

  Tredway had walked some fifty feet away and was staring down the canyon. Under her breath Cindy said to Bill Saxx, "Be careful, he's killed a dozen men."

  Saxx turned sharply and stared at her. "How do you know? You know more about my own boss than I do."

  "I think I do. Hopalong Cassidy told me. Tredway used to run with the Hardy gang."

  Bill Saxx's eyes narrowed to slits as he considered that.

  Tredway came striding back to the fire. "Might as well eat," he said. "No sign of Krug. He must be all right. Cassidy couldn't get at him if he stayed in those rocks."

  The hours dragged by and Tredway grew increasingly restless. Bill Saxx watched him with care, even while eating. Pres looked haunted and his eyes kept searching the rim of the canyon. He swore under his breath, smoked endless cigarettes, and paced nervously.

  Saxx finally lay down and slept a little, and when he awakened it was night and the stars were out. Pres sat sullenly over the fire, but Tredway was gone.

  Saxx sat up quickly. "Where is he?"

  Pres nodded downcanyon. "Went to have a look. He's some worked up. He ain't near so worried about Cassidy as he is about the Brothers. He says they've got trackers among them who could follow an Apache upstream through a dust storm."

  Saxx glanced at Cindy. She looked tired, although she had combed out her hair and made some effort to tidy up. "What did you tip me off about him for?"

  She turned toward him. "Because you can be reasoned with. He can't be talked to now. He's crazy."

  "Crazy?"

  "Haven't you noticed his eyes? I think it was something about the Brothers Penitentes. They wanted him very badly for something that happened long ago, and he's afraid of them-- deathly afraid. And right now he's in a killing mood."

  "I'm not afraid of him. If he wants trouble, let him start it. I'm fed up with him pushing me around." Saxx was surly. "Thanks, though. You tipped me off. I won't forget that."

  "He'll kill me." Cindy knew she was telling the truth. "He's mean. He's trapped now and he knows it, so he'll strike out at anything near him."

  "Trapped?" Saxx was impatient. "What kind of talk is that? We're not trapped."

  "Aren't you? You can't go downcanyon. They will be looking for you. By now the Brothers will be out in force, and Buck Lewis will have a posse. You can go on up the canyon, but you only have food for a few days. One man or two men might make it. Four never could. If you want to get away, you have to turn me loose."

  Saxx grinned at her. "Smart, ain't you?" His eyes were speculative. "Get rid of another man, too? Ain't that what you said? Who'll it be?" He glanced at the sullen Pres. "This cowhand or Tredway?"

  "It will be you or Tredway," Cindy replied quietly, "and you know it. You can get along with Pres. He's loyal and easygoing. He's used to working with you. Neither of you could get along with Tredway."

  Saxx started to speak, and then the words froze on his lips. Justin Tredway stood across the fire, just on the edge of darkness. His eyes were on Bill Saxx, but he took in the whole camp as he spoke. "Get rid of me? Is that the idea? I'm crazy, am I?" He smiled, his lips breaking back over his teeth. "I'll give you cause to regret that, Miss Blair!" The voice was low and ugly, and the "Miss" was faintly emphasized with a sneer.

  Saxx had not taken his eyes from Tredway, but now his former boss turned away with a shrug. He turned, and then there was a blast of fire from in front of him and Bill Saxx turned halfway around and felt blood covering his side.

  Tredway looked at him, still holding the smoking derringer. "I was as fast as he was," he said quietly, "I think. But why gamble?"

  Pres had remained sitting on the rock, too astonished to move. He looked down at the gun in Tredway's hand and remained riveted to his place, knowing a movement would mean certain death. Tredway turned his eyes then and looked at Cindy. Thinking to distract him, she spoke quickly. "You did take my ranch. The PM."

  The remark made him frown, then he laughed shortly. "Of course. That old fool was in my way. I knew somebody would come looking for it, so I moved all the buildings down to the Box T, piece by piece, with my freight wagons. I had several drivers and outfits here from Virginia City right then and they did the work. Then I had a big cottonwood dug up and transplanted to the exact site of the house, and all the postholes filled, every sign of habitation removed, and even sod moved to cover some of the worn spots. The hardest thing was getting water to that tree and cutting back the branches."

  "That was clever," Cindy said quietly. "Did you kill my uncle?"

  "He was in the way."

  He turned toward Pres and hesitated, staring at him through a long minute while Pres sat very still, his hands on his knees. "Get the horses," Tredway said, then: "We're moving out."

  Pres got slowly to his feet and started toward the horses. A moment later they heard him saddling up. Tredway relaxed slowly and glanced once toward the body of Bill Saxx, lying in the shadows beyond the edge of firelight. "You'll come with me," he said to Cindy. "I'll need you. And don't get any hopes because Cassidy is around. He won't be able to help you. He's someplace on the rim--I trailed him that far. He won't be able to follow us because I've freed his horse and driven him off."

  "You think that will stop him?" Cindy's eyes were contemptuous as she gazed at Tredway. "You always did underrate other men. That's been your trouble. You always believed you were a little smarter or a little faster, but when the chips were down, you always took the cheap way out."

  He swung on her, his eyes blazing. "Shut up!" he said furiously.

  "Like when you shot Bill Saxx. You were afraid to face him even up. Afraid!"

  With a bound he was beside her, his hand drawn back to strike. At that instant there was a sudden clatter of horse's hooves, then a shout, "So long, Tredway!" The cry echoed against the rock walls, then died out.

  Tredway forgot Cindy. He rushed to the edge of the firelight, hesitated, then plunged into the darkness. He was back before the girl could run. "He's gone!" he raged. "He ran off and left me! The yellow dog!"

  "Not yellow," Cindy said coolly, "just smart. He knows you're through. Cassidy will get you, and if he doesn't, the Brothers will."

  Their name brought him up short, and grabbing the girl by the wrist, he dragged her toward the horses. With her standing by him, he saddled quickly. Cindy's eyes kept going to the fallen Saxx. His guns had not been removed. If she could get one of them...

  But he was watching her now, and he seemed to have detected some glance of hers. When the horses were saddled, he ordered her to mount. "There's a way out," he said grimly. "Let's go!"

  "You'd better let me go," she told him calmly, concealing her fear. "I'll just be in your way."

  "No," he said, and mounted his horse, turning up the canyon and away from the camp. Only once did he glance back, and then it was to see nothing but the flickering fire. All around was darkness.

  Hopalong Cassidy was having his own troubles. He had be
en able to find no way to get down into the canyon from higher up and returned to overlook the camp once more.

  Returning to the prisoner, he gave Krug a drink, then went back down the canyon. While still short of the bottom, he heard the shot. Hurrying, he climbed the wall again, but this time did not advance so far. A glance at the camp told him the story. Bill Saxx was down. He had been shot by Tredway. He was on the rim during Tredway's talk with Cindy, but while he could see them easily, he could not hear what they were saying. Earlier, he had missed Tredway by seconds only, for even as he had left his horse Tredway came up to him. As Hopalong had climbed the canyon wall the outlaw was turning Topper loose. Hopalong did not hear the clatter of hooves as Topper ran off, pursued by stones thrown by Tredway.

  Now, as they mounted, he got hastily to his feet, debating whether to risk a shot, but Tredway was moving quickly and Cindy's position put her too close to the line of fire.

  Scrambling down the cliff, Hopalong raced to where he had

  left Topper. He hesitated to whistle, then tried it, but there was no sound and no response.

  Circling, for the canyon swung wide at the point where Topper had been left, Hopalong followed the canyon to the campsite. When almost up to the fire, he stopped suddenly. Something was wrong! He glanced swiftly around, trying to see what. Bill Saxx was gone!

  "Lookin' for me, Cassidy?"

  Hoppy looked up to see Saxx standing under the shelving rock. His side bloody and his jaw was badly scraped, the foreman shifted unsteadily on his feet. "He suckered me with a hideout gun," Saxx said contemptuously. "I'm gonna kill you, Hopalong, an' then I'll hunt down that yellow belly an' take care of him." He stared somberly at Cassidy. "If it'll make you feel any better, I'll be turnin' that girl loose. She tipped me off on Tredway. Told me who he was."

  "So you know then?"