by H. H. Knibbs
Percentage Parsons would road-brand the cattle with his big P P brand, and Crail Creedon had the ten thousand dollars he had borrowed from Bailey, who was Parsons’ partner. Sutton opened his eyes and raised his head with a jerk.
“You gave Bailey a paper authorizing him to act for you,” he said slowly. “Did he give you a receipt for your trail herd?”
“A Texan’s word is as good as cash,” Creedon muttered. “I didn’t need a paper!”
“But Bailey needed one,” Sutton pointed out quietly. “Right now he holds three big outfits right in his hand. Put them together, and they’d make the biggest cattle outfit in Texas!”
Creedon’s fingers gripped Sutton’s shoulders like a vise, and his voice was a husky plea for help.
“Throw in with us, Silent. We’ll get up a crew of fighting Texas men and clean out those rustlers. The boys will follow you from here to hell and back again, and there ain’t any law down there in the Strip between the Canadian and the Arkansas!”
“Right now I’m the law here in Dodge,” Sutton answered shortly. “And I passed my word like you know.”
“Walk up to the Dodge House with us, Silent,” Molly Jo pleaded softly. “Dad wants to talk to you, and he might have a way figured out. Mr. Bailey is honest, but I’m afraid of Percentage Parsons!”
“I’m not so sure about Stud Bailey after what happened tonight,” Creedon growled. “He asked a lot of the questions, and he knew most of the answers in advance. You coming, Silent?”
“You and Molly Jo wait downstairs a minute while I change my shirt,” Sutton answered with a nod. “I’ll go with you to see Colonel Benton, and we might figure a way.”
Colonel Benton was propped up against the pillows when Molly Jo opened the door to his room. Dollar-Sign Sibley was sitting at the foot of the bed, and he was armed for battle. The colonel’s face was pale because of his wound, and he gripped his old Peacemaker Colt in his right hand.
“How long are you going to take slack from Stud Bailey, Marshal?” he barked at Sutton.
Sutton looked startled. It was evident that the colonel and his daughter did not share the same opinion of the gambler, and Molly Jo added fuel to the old Southerner’s anger.
“Mr. Bailey is honest, Dad. Percentage Parsons and his rustlers would steal every head of our beef if it were not for Bailey. We’ve got to trust him, or we will lose everything!”
“Dollar-Sign told me all about that ruckus down there behind the Alamo Saloon,” Benton argued hotly. “We don’t have to trust Bailey, and I don’t want you to have any more truck with him!”
Molly Jo’s eyes flashed, and she drew herself up proudly. “You forget yourself, father,” she reminded him quietly, but her drawling voice was husky with resentment she could not conceal. “I’m not a child any longer, and I’ll choose my own friends!”
“Lay that all aside,” Benton argued, and then he lowered his voice. “There are three old fools right here in this room,” he continued doggedly. “We all signed papers giving Bailey and Parsons the right to bring up our herds, and deliver them here to market. Am I right, gentlemen?”
“You know we did,” Creedon growled. “But what else could we do under the circumstances?”
“We might use our heads for something else except places to hang our hats,” Benton answered scathingly. “There’s Wichita, Ellsworth, and Ogalalla. Where do you other gents want your herds delivered?”
Creedon snorted and threw back his shaggy head. “Right here in Dodge!” he barked. “Where we can see the pay-off, and collect our proper share of the money!”
“Feeling that way about it, we’ve got little to worry about,” Benton said with a grim smile. “Just as long as you and Dollar-Sign stipulated that your steers were to be delivered here at Dodge!”
Sibley leaped to his feet and faced Crail Creedon. “I took it for granted that my herd would be delivered here,” he said hoarsely. “How about you, Crail?”
“You’ve got to make allowances for the colonel,” Creedon answered with a smile. “He’s weak from loss of blood, due to that slug he took in the shoulder.”
“Hobble your tongue, Crail,” the colonel retorted sharply. “That slug didn’t affect my head, and I’ve had plenty of time to do some thinking. Parsons can drive those herds up to Wichita if he’s so minded, and it’s my guess they’re headed that way right now!
“But we ain’t whipped yet,” Benton went on. “When Bailey demanded a paper giving him authority to act for me, I got cagey for one time and demanded some rights of my own. I wrote up a paper for him to sign. My orders call for delivery at Dodge City, and an accounting from the bills-of-sale!”
“I’ll round up all the men from our three crews,” Crail Creedon said, and his voice rang with renewed hope. “They’ll fight for Silent, and he can lead them against Parsons’ outfit. They will have to follow the Arkansas River, and we’ll bring those steers into Dodge!”
“Don’t tell us about your contract,” Colonel Benton warned Sutton. “It will be another three weeks before our trail-herds can cross the Strip. You just keep your health until then, so’s you can take over your new job. That’s settled, and no arguments necessary!”
Creedon smiled and turned to watch his tall nephew. Sutton was staring at his boots with a deep crease between his wide eyes. Much could happen in three weeks, and they might be wrong about Stud Bailey. It wasn’t for him to say.
“I think you men are all wrong,” Molly Jo spoke up suddenly. “I still believe that Mr. Bailey is honest, and I can prove it. I’ll have a talk with him in the morning.”
“You won’t!” Colonel Benton barked.
“There’s been enough bloodshed,” Molly Jo answered. “Mr. Bailey is a reasonable man, and he is entirely fearless. I know that Percentage Parsons is without scruples, but Bailey is the only one who can control him.”
“There’s one other,” Creedon contradicted softly, and turned his head to watch Sutton.
“That is just what I mean,” Molly Jo explained quickly. “We need Bailey just as much as we need Silent. If anything happened to either of them, Parsons could do as he liked, and we’d all be ruined!”
“I’ll take that other job in three weeks, Colonel,” Sutton said stiffly, and closed the door softly behind him.
Colonel Benton tightened his jaw and glared at his pretty daughter. Her brown eyes returned his stare without winking, and the old Confederate officer raised his hand and pointed to the door of her bedroom.
“Go!” he ordered sternly. “And don’t leave that room without my permission!”
Molly Jo tossed her head. Then she caught herself, remained silent, and nodded her head meekly.
At the other end of Front Street, Stud Bailey stood at the far end of the Alamo, and watched the drinkers along the bar. Most of them were his own men, with a sprinkling of cowboys from the river camps. The games in the back room were getting a fair play, but the housemen handled the cases unless the stakes ran unusually high.
The gambler glanced at the clock over the bar. It lacked a few minutes to midnight, and the orchestra over in the Red Rose was playing the good-night waltz. There was no time limit at the Red Rose, but Gorgeous Mary always closed up at twelve when the crowds were light.
Bailey shrugged and walked back to his quarters with a thin cigar between his lips. His right hand touched the ivory-handled gun in his holster just before he entered the room which served as his office. Gorgeous Mary had insisted on keeping the other weapon, and the gambler seated himself at his desk and began to sort some papers.
He raised his dark eyes from time to time to glance at the door leading to the alley.
The barrel of a six-shooter came into view, and Bailey recognized his own spare gun. Gorgeous Mary still wore the tight-fitting red silk gown, which detracted nothing from her full, high-breasted figure. Now she wore a shell-studded gunbelt
buckled high above her hips.
“How much longer are you going to play with the law, Stud?” she asked bluntly, and holstered the heavy gun on her right hip.
Stud Bailey raised his dark eyes questioningly. “You think that it’s just play?” he countered quietly. “After what happened tonight?”
“Because of what happened tonight,” Mary corrected with a frown. “Silent Sutton would have been standing in front of that window instead of Whitey Briggs, but something changed the play!”
“Whitey Briggs was getting ready to talk,” Bailey said softly. “And talking isn’t one of the marshal’s vices, as you know.”
“But his guns talk loud when he makes up his mind,” Gorgeous Mary reminded grimly. “He’s jealous of you, and you better let that little Texas girl alone if you know what’s good for you!”
Stud smoothed some papers with his left hand while he studied Gorgeous Mary’s angry face.
“I’ll kill her!” Gorgeous Mary hissed, and her right hand went down to the dagger in her garter under the crimson gown. “I don’t like the way you look at her, and neither does Silent Sutton!”
“A fine figure of a man, Sutton,” the gambler answered quietly. “He does not know the meaning of fear, and he never runs a bluff.”
“Stop it, Stud!” the woman barked. “He had you in a jackpot tonight when I found him here in your office, and we both know it. I would have killed him when he backed through the door, but you know why I didn’t!”
“You held your hand because it was my orders!” he stated thickly. “Sutton’s the only man alive who has a chance with me, but even Sutton isn’t fast enough!”
“Don’t try to scare me, Stud,” Mary answered with a crooked smile, but her trembling lips betrayed her bravado. “I held my trigger-finger because of that Benton girl. You’ve always gotten everything you wanted, and you want her!”
“And if I do?” Bailey asked quietly.
“You’ve played up to these new town laws,” she accused. “It gave you a weapon against the cattlemen, and now you’ve got them all over a barrel. They’ve borrowed from you on their ranches, and they can’t pay back the money unless they sell their trail-herds.”
“Brains, my dear,” Bailey murmured with a smile, and he glanced at a map on the desk before him. “The J Bar B connects with the Dollar-Sign on the west. The C bar C joins up on the east, and those three spreads would make the biggest cattle outfit in Texas.”
“I’m not getting any younger, and I’ve always wanted to settle down on just such a place,” she told him gently. “Where do I fit in, Stud?”
Stud Bailey made no answer. His head was turned as he listened to footsteps coming down the hall from the card-rooms.
“Outside quick, Mary. Someone is coming, and I’ll see you later!”
She nodded and crossed the room lightly. She closed the door without a sound, and Bailey eased his gun in the holster and spoke quietly.
“Come in, Tilghman!”
“The Red Rose closed early tonight, Bailey,” the deputy said. “I was looking for Gorgeous Mary, and I couldn’t find Rowdy Kate. They’ve got to leave town before one of them gets killed. You can pass the word to Mary!”
“Not me,” Bailey contradicted quietly. “And I wouldn’t want to be in your boots when you tell either one of them!”
“I’ll tell them,” Tilghman answered gruffly, but it was evident that he did not relish his task. “Like as not Kate is up at her place across the river. Sorry to have troubled you.”
He nodded and backed from the room, and Bailey heard his slow measured tread as he walked through the Alamo Saloon. The gambler stretched quickly to his feet when a soft tapping came from the alley door, and his eyes widened with surprise when Molly Jo opened the door.
“I had to talk with you, Mr. Bailey,” Molly Jo said. “It’s about Percentage Parsons and the trail-herds.”
“What about them?” Bailey asked quietly.
“The cattle must be delivered here at Dodge,” the girl answered soberly. “It means everything to Sibley and Creedon!”
“They talked to you?” Bailey asked quickly.
Molly Jo frowned with worry and shook the dark curls. “They talked to my father,” she admitted hurriedly. “They don’t trust Parsons, and there’ll be trouble if he drives their cattle to Wichita or Ogalalla. You’re the only one who has any influence with Parsons, and I came to you because I know you’re honest!”
CHAPTER X
TARGET ON HIS BACK
Stud Bailey took one of Molly Jo’s gloved hands and stared at a rope-burn in the leather palm. Molly Jo quickly released her hand.
“I slid down a rope from my window at the Dodge House,” she explained. “I’d done it once before, if you remember. You’re a Texan, Mr. Bailey. You’ll send word to Percentage Parsons to deliver the cattle here at Dodge City?”
“I’d do most anything for you, Molly Jo,” Bailey answered earnestly. “I’ve changed my mind about a lot of things since you came to Dodge City. I have even changed my ideas about life, and how a man ought to live it. You might not believe me, but I’ve never loved a girl before in my life!”
Molly Jo appeared startled, and she tried to draw away from the tall gambler when she saw the ardor in his dark eyes.
“I didn’t know,” she faltered. “You must not say such things at a time like this. With the cattlemen all upset, my father very ill in bed…and everything,” she added lamely.
Bailey said softly. “Nothing else matters to me when I look at you, and realize just how much I love you!”
He jerked up his head when a low snarl came from over by the alley door. For once the cautious gambler had forgotten to guard his back—and his tongue. Gorgeous Mary was crouching in the door way, her right hand gripping a six-shooter.
“I knew it, Stud!” Mary said softly. “I knew you loved her, and I used to think you loved me. I heard everything you said, but she won’t ever get you!”
Mary was glaring at Molly Jo.
“You’d shoot me down without giving me a chance, Mary?” Molly Jo asked slowly, and her drawling voice was low and steady with control. “You’d kill me without hearing my side of this…this situation?”
“Like I’d kill a snake!” Mary said.
“But I don’t love Mr. Bailey,” Molly Jo said firmly. “I came here to discuss business with him, and to ask him a favor!”
Gorgeous Mary glanced at Bailey and saw the chagrin and anger that darkened the gambler’s handsome face.
“You won’t kill Molly,” a deep rasping voice stated harshly, and the sound came from the bedroom door.
Mary turned her head. Rowdy Kate was dressed for the trail in divided leather skirt and boots, and she wore a short brush coat over a checkered wool shirt. Her right hand was gripping a Frontier model .44 Colt.
“Make your fight, you blonde killer!” Kate challenged hoarsely.
Molly Jo and Stud Bailey watched the two women, scarcely breathing.
Gorgeous Mary’s right hand jerked up like a suddenly released spring, her thumb curling back the hammer.
Kate curled her lips when Mary started to turn away. That fake surrender had fooled a dozen men, but Rowdy Kate was not a man. Her .44 pistol whipped up over the lip of her holster, and she cocked the hammer with her thumb while depressing the trigger.
Gorgeous Mary staggered back. The smoking pistol dropped from her hand and clattered to the floor, and the blonde queen followed it down.
Rowdy Kate crossed the room, crouching across her smoking pistol. She covered Stud Bailey as she found the doorknob with her left hand. Her voice was low and grim when she spoke to Molly Jo.
“Tell Bill Tilghman I’m leaving town on a fast horse. And tell Silent Sutton that Bailey means to grab all three of those cattle ranches. There’s the map right on the table, and Stud Bailey is as cr
ooked as a mule’s hind leg. Good luck, Texas gal; you’re sure going to need it!”
Stud Bailey picked up his fallen pistol and pouched it in his left holster. His dark eyes were wide with wonder, and his lips trembled as he dropped to his knees beside the body of the woman who had died because of love—and of jealousy.
“Mary,” he whispered softly, and his deep voice sounded muted and far away.
Molly Jo shuddered and jerked her eyes away. She focused on the map for something to make her forget the presence of death. Her lips parted when she recognized the familiar brands of the J Bar B, the Dollar-Sign, and the C Bar C. All now joined together, with some figures under each brand.
She forgot Stud Bailey and Gorgeous Mary in that tense moment of stunned surprise. Her father had borrowed twenty thousand dollars, and that amount was penciled under the J Bar B. The Dollar-Sign was down for ten thousand, with fifty thousand under the C Bar C.
Boots thudded down the hall and stopped at the door in the hall. Stud Bailey did not move.
Molly Jo glanced up when another man came in from the alley. Silent Sutton held a cocked gun in his right hand, and Bill Tilghman stood in the hall just outside the office. Sutton tapped Bailey on the shoulder and spoke sternly.
“You’re under arrest, Bailey. On your feet!”
Bailey shrugged and reached out with his right hand to close the staring blue eyes. Then he took a silken handkerchief from his breast pocket and covered the pale, beautiful face. After which he arose slowly and shook his head.
“This is one time I’d like to be a woman,” he said quietly, but his voice vibrated like the tail of a rattler. “I’d follow Rowdy Kate into the No-Law country, and I’d square up for what she did to Mary!”
“You mean Rowdy and Gorgeous smoked their guns?” Tilghman asked from the hall.
“Use your eyes, deputy!” Bailey snapped. “Did you ever know me to make war on a woman?”