‘What you goin’ to do?’ Mart asked.
‘Bring this punk over to the others. I want to talk with them.’
Mart kicked Dwyer on to his feet and pushed him in the direction of the other prisoners. When he reached them, Mart tripped him and dumped him on the ground among them.
Mart hunkered down and built a smoke slowly, thinking. He fired it by scraping a lucifer on his pants and puffed for a moment. All the prisoners kept their eyes on him.
‘Maybe you boys think I’m being foolish an’ soft,’ he said, ‘if you do, you’re making the biggest mistake of your lives.’
Joe said: ‘For Gawd’s sake, you ain’t goin’ to let ’em loose, man. You too goddam soft to kill, I do it for you.’
The prisoners switched their eyes to the Negro. They all looked sick.
‘You’re makin’ the same mistake, Joe,’ Will said. ‘I’m lettin’ ’em go for a purpose. Maybe they don’t see it now but it’ll come to ’em. Now, I’m advisin’ you, boys, cut your losses an’ ride. I have a full crew of brasada boys due in here any day and every man-jack of ’em’s a mite ornery. That’s why I hired ’em in the first place. On top of that, we’re goin’ to be watchin’ Brack’s camp close. If one of you men is seen there, he gits a bullet through his head. If I catch one of you in this country again, tomorrow, a month or a year from now, I’ll hang him as sure as my name’s Will Storm. Any of you don’t believe me?’
They nodded. One man said: ‘We believe you.’
Will said: ‘That shows you got at least a grain of sense in your thick heads.’ He nodded to Joe. ‘Cut ’em loose. They can keep their guns, but they don’t have no ammunition. If they want powder they can buy it at the Springs. Git ’em on their horses. I’ll see ’em on their way.’
Joe swore, got to his feet and drew his knife. Each prisoner looked as if he were going to have his throat cut. Will said: ‘That’s a good rope. Untie ’em.’ Joe put his knife away and started on the knots.
Chapter Fourteen
It sounded simple. The necessity for it was obvious. Dwyer had given him the answer. Brack held Martha and the girls - so take Brack’s boy.
Will looked at his brother and Joe. They were camped deep in timber. Here they could afford a fire, drink coffee and eat a hot meal.
He couldn’t do anything but admit to himself - Mart and Joe both looked pretty terrible. Sure, they had both made remarkable recoveries, but neither man was fit to make a long hard ride or to undertake the risky thing that Will had in his mind.
They were back in Three Creeks Valley, camped not a mile from the burned remains of their house. They had stopped in the soft light of the dusk as they circled to come at Broken Spur from the south-east. Now dark had drawn in and they rested, their bellies full and they all had Martha and the girls on their mind.
Will thought and thought, but the more he drove his thoughts, the fewer ideas came to him. He wished that he could assess just how vain and power-hungry this man was, this Brack who seemed to own half the world. If Will threatened him, would he go so far as to harm his womenfolk? Would even the hardcases who rode with him permit that? It was a risk Will did not dare to take.
What would Brack’s reaction be if Will took Riley Brack?
Everything rested on that.
He lay by the fire, smoking, sweating it out, not speaking to the others. Judging by their faces, their own thoughts were as gloomy.
Finally, Will could stand it no longer. He threw his smoke into the fire and stood up. He picked up his rifle and his bed-roll.
Mart looked up at him.
‘Where you headed?’
‘Just pullin’ out,’ Will said. Take a look around.’
‘Where?’
‘Broken Spur maybe.’
Mart started to rise.
‘I’ll side you.’
‘Siddown,’ Will snarled. ‘I want you an’ Joe rested. You ain’t no good to nobody the way you are.’
Mart looked at him in astonishment.
‘What the hell was we a-doin- back yonder when them guns was poppin’?’ he demanded. ‘You ain’t kiddin’ me none, hermano. You’re all set to do somethin’ real foolish.’
‘I am not so,’ Will said. ‘I just want to make sure where Martha an’ the girls is at. We’ll move day after tomorrow. When we do that, we can’t afford to move without knowing where we’re goin’. It’s as simple as that.’
Joe said: ‘You think I don’t know that look on your face? Man', I seen that look since you was knee-high to a gopher. You’re on the prod.’
‘That ain’t so. Shet your heads, the pair of you, an’ git some sleep. I’ll be back noon tomorrow.’ He went to turn away, then added with some venom: ‘I’m still bossin’ this outfit. If either of you pair of smart-alecs think you know better’n me, why you just take over. I’ll resign.’
‘I jest have a good mind to do that,’ Joe said coldly.
‘Naw,’ said Mart. ‘If he’s so all-fired smart, let him go git his fool head shot off.’
Will stared at them for a moment, then tramped away into the darkness. He caught up a stocky dun that had plenty of staying power and threw his blanket and saddle on it. He mounted and stared back through the trees towards the fire to make sure they were both there. They hadn’t moved. He turned the horse and rode through the trees at a walk till he hit open grass, then he urged the horse into a brisk trot and set off eastward. Come dawn, he’d be looking down on Ed Brack’s camp. My God, if Mart and Joe came after him and spoiled his simple plan, he’d...
He thought: The only thing that can bring us right out on top is for Clay to ride in with the crew.
As he rode on through the moonlight, he despised himself for still thinking that way. His duty now was to get Martha and the girls away from Brack and to take them clear out of the country. Nothing mattered but getting them to safety. Just the same, he hated to leave Brack crowing triumphantly on his dunghill.
His greatest ambition, he knew, was to get Brack in his sights and kill him. And him a peaceable kind of man, too. A man could surely astonish himself sometimes.
He rode steadily through the lush grass of the valley, wary for any sign of riders, prepared for a shot out of the dark. There was no knowing that there weren’t Broken Spur riders this far south just making sure there were no Storms about. He wondered if Brack realized that he had lost more men. Maybe the wounded had managed to limp back to headquarters with the news by now. Will had patched them up roughly and put them on their horses. He didn’t doubt that they would tell a lurid tale of what had happened to them. He would like to see Brack’s fury when he heard. Will also shuddered to think of what he might do to the women in revenge.
He reached the eastern wall of the valley and climbed steadily, walking and leading his horse to save its strength. Once on the high ridges, he worked his way north along them, praying that none of the Broken Spur hands were riding the high trails. But that was a risk he had to take. However, in spite of his fears he had no trouble reaching the ridges above Broken Spur well before dawn. There was time for him to get his horse in cover on good grass and take up his position high above the spot where the buildings had stood. He had his glass trained on the spot as the cold fingers of dawn probed the sky.
The pale shapes of the tents gradually came into view. Men came stiff and yawning from their sleep. If there was anybody on guard down there, they weren’t in evidence. Most likely there were riflemen posted in the rocks and timber below. Brack must have learned his lesson by now. To the west, he saw that a rough corral had been rigged up for the saddle-stock. There were a couple of dozen horses in it. As one man came to build up the fire and to lift pots on to its stones, another man saddled up and drove the horses out on to grass. Sounds drifted up to Will.
The cook put a pan on the fire and placed food in it. Will could almost smell the bacon sizzling. He reached jerky from his pocket and chewed without much enthusiasm.
The flap of a tent was thrown back and a man ca
me into view. Will knew the shape. He carried it in his dreams even. He put the glass on it and saw that it was Brack, as he had known.
He could creep down a little lower and blow the man’s brains out of his head, he thought. Finish it. Maybe that was the way.
Another man came from the tent. Will put the glass on him. A man of about twenty, slender. The shape of the features told him that this was Brack’s son.
He watched the boy closely, fascinated by him. This was the one he would take for Martha and his girls. Through this boy he’d make Brack sweat in his turn.
The boy was talking vehemently to his father. Brack looked like he was shouting back at him. He cut the air with the edge of his hand with finality.
Then both men turned.
Will moved the glasses, touched the first tent, then the second. Martha came into view, throwing back the flap of the tent.
She held herself pretty straight did Martha, pushing back a strand of hair from her face with a gesture that was wholly hers. She walked up to Brack and started speaking to him. The boy hung around, watching the entrance of the tent from which she had come. Kate came out, holding Melissa by the hand. At once the boy headed for them. Melissa hung back behind Kate and the elder girl jerked the child after her, going past Riley Brack. Will had never wanted to kill men more in his life.
He looked at the rest of the camp. There were more than a half-dozen men standing around, watching Brack and the women.
Brack and Martha spoke for a few minutes, then Martha turned away. Kate and Melissa followed her and they sat down outside their tent. The men moved towards the fire. The cook started to ladle food on to plates; the men walked away with them, squatted down to eat. The cook carried food to Brack and his son and the two of them ate sitting on chairs at a table outside their tent. Then the cook took food to Martha and the girls.
Six men, Will thought. And there must be more standing guard under cover. That made pretty heavy odds. He’d have to wait.
He waited.
An hour dragged by. Martha and the girls were allowed to go down to the creek. Nobody accompanied them. That confirmed that there were hidden guards watching them.
After a while, they walked back and once more sat down outside their tent. Once more Brack came over and spoke to Martha. She shook her head several times. It was the worst torture he had ever suffered, seeing them there and not being able to help them.
He waited some more.
Finally, there was some real movement. Two of the men walked out towards the grazing remuda and caught three horses.
Three horses, Will thought, and he brightened a little. One of those horses was meant for one of the Bracks at least.
Then he had more luck than was due to any man.
The two hands saddled the horses and Riley Brack came forward and mounted one. His father walked up to him and was plainly giving him some emphatic instructions. The boy nodded impatiently. Then he whirled his horse and rode away with the two other riders following him.
He headed south and within a few minutes was lost to sight behind the swell of the ridge to Will’s left. Will could have been mistaken, but he thought they headed for the hills. He took one last look at Martha and the girls, then he moved back and ran for his horse. It was a matter of seconds to tighten girths and step into the saddle. He headed south.
Five minutes later, he came out in plain sight of the valley and could see no trace of the riders. That could only mean that they were below and in front of him in the hills. It looked like Brack had sent out a patrol.
For an hour Will stayed high, trying to catch sight of the riders below him and had no luck. He rode a good way south, watching below for the slightest movement, but saw nothing. He came close to despair and impatience rode him strongly. This was his great chance. There were only two men between him and that damned boy. It seemed impossible that he should be thwarted now. There was only one thing to do - go lower and try to pick up their sign.
He went down.
He knew it could be his undoing. They could hear him. He could ride up on them unawares. They might even spot him coming down and wait for him. That was a chance he had to take.
He cut across the lower part of the hills, looking for a sign, hoping to cut it at a right angle. He searched for so long without finding it that he knew they must be long gone. He halted and debated whether to try some more or go back and watch the camp again. He badly needed Joe here. If it came to guns, he badly needed Mart too. He was a fool to think he could go through this without them.
Then he heard the sound. The dun also pricked up its black ears and looked south.
Will didn’t waste any time.
He put the horse on to soft ground and made it as fast as he could into the timber that grew thickly fifty yards to the east.
He didn’t have long to wait.
Within minutes, a horseman rode into view.
The man was travelling at a walk and he was close enough for Will to get a look at him. Will slipped from the saddle and gripped his horse’s nose as the whinny began to rumble. If the man heard, he gave no sign. He rode to the spot where Will had halted. For a moment, the watcher held his breath, unable to believe that the man did not see his sign. He recognized him now as one of the men who had ridden out of camp with Riley Brack. So the three of them had most likely split up. They could be searching the hills for Storms. Brack wanted to prepare himself for an attack. Or he wanted to make contact with a Storm so he could use Martha and the girls as a bargaining point.
The man was moving on, passing Will at a walk.
If Will didn’t act now, he would be too late. What he contemplated was risky, for the other two men might be close. But it was a risk he had to take.
Still holding the dun’s nose, he pulled his rifle from leather. He let go the dun’s nose then, levered the rifle and called out: ‘You’re covered. Hist ’em.’
The man didn’t need any second bidding. His hands shot skyward. He turned in the saddle and looked towards Will. Maybe he couldn’t see the other in the shadow of the trees. He showed no fear whatsoever. It was almost as if he had expected this to happen.
Suspicion knifed through Will. Had they spotted him and was this a trap?
He hesitated a moment, decided hell this was all risk any road and walked out of cover.
‘You Will Storm?’ the man asked.
‘That’s right.’
‘I been lookin’ for you.’
‘You found me.’
‘Mr. Brack wants to talk.’
‘What about?’
‘He has your women. Time for dickering he thinks.’
‘Sounds reasonable,’ Will said evenly, but the rage was rising in him again. ‘Step down.’
The man’s face showed his doubt and Will had to repeat the order.
‘Can I lower my hands?’ he asked.
‘No.’
The man kicked his right foot from the stirrup-iron and started to dismount awkwardly. As soon as he had one foot on the ground, Will kicked it from under him. As he hit the dirt. Will hit him on the head with the brass-bound butt of the rifle. It drove him into complete unconsciousness and he went limp. The horse shied away.
Will looked around, expecting a shot at least. Nothing happened.
He caught the horse and tied it. Then he dragged the man by the scruff of his neck into the trees. He went back for the horse and tied him in the trees, then he took down the man’s rope and hog-tied him so that it would have taken a month of Sundays for him to escape.
He ran to the dun and mounted quickly, urging him out of the trees. What he needed now was a fair amount of guile and a large amount of luck. He backtracked the man into the south. The sign was plain at first and he could follow it without too much difficulty from the saddle at a good pace, but after a while he came to open but more broken country with a trail littered with small rocks and slabs of stone and was forced to slow. Trailing a man was always a comparatively slow business. The trailer of necess
ity had to travel more slowly than the man he followed. Which meant that the man behind could only come up with the man in front if he travelled for a longer time. Will reckoned that he didn’t have such time to play with. He had to track fast.
Then he was in timber again and here he lost the sign. He circled, found it again and followed it on to benchland and came on the spot where the man he had left tied up had parted company with another rider.
Will was nonplussed. Was this second rider Riley Brack or was he the other man he had seen? He decided that a gamble had to be taken sooner or later and that he might as well make it sooner and try for the possibility of saving precious time. He started along the trail of the second man. What decided him really was the fact that he was following the sign of a quick-stepping horse and he remembered that the horse that Riley Brack had ridden had such a pace.
The man he was after did not follow a definite path, but seemed to be meandering aimlessly. Will thought this meant that he was not headed in any decided direction, but was merely looking. The three men had scattered out to see if they could come by chance on a Storm in the hills. This bore out what the captured man had told Will. Brack was ready to do a deal. He had taken a beating and didn’t like it, but he also held some good cards. They were Martha and the girls. He could still negotiate from strength. Let Will get his hands on Riley and things would be altered a little.
Will crossed the bench, riding easily along the sign that showed plainly in the grass, reached trees and went on through them. He had his rifle in his hands and he was ready for trouble. On the far side of the timber lay a narrow bench lying some twenty or so feet above him. A narrow trail led up to this and the sign showed that the man ahead of him had gone up it. Will urged the dun up, reached the grass above and saw the sign going ahead of him at an angle. He turned along it. On the far side was a scattering of timber and rocks. Beyond them was a cliff about one hundred feet high. To his right were trees. He took all this in at a glance, knowing that this was an ideal place for a man to wait for him and cut down on him.
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