Gunpoint

by Giles Tippette

  “Suit yourself. That divan over there ought to be a good place for you to sleep.”

  He got that hurt look on his face. “Oh, I ain’t gonna sleep, boss. Ben especially warned me about that. Said he’d have the hide off me. An’ I told them Mex boys the same thang.”

  “Well, be sure and take your spurs off when you stretch out on that divan. You scratch that material or cut it and Mrs. Williams will damn sure have the hide off you, never mind about Ben. You want a drink?”

  I had one more whiskey with Ray and we talked a few minutes, and then I went to bed. The last thing I thought about before dropping off was how was I going to smoke this hombre out into the open. Nothing would come to me, and I went to sleep with the sound of the rifle bullets whining over me.

  CHAPTER 3

  Hays was already making coffee the next morning when I came straggling into the kitchen. I didn’t ask him if he’d stayed awake all night, not wanting to force him into a lie that would have put more of a burden on his soul. We sat down at the dining table. I lit a cigarillo and sipped at my coffee. It was better than Juanita could have done. I didn’t know whether to give her the time off while I was gone or make it look like somebody was still around the place. It was barely six in the morning and she wouldn’t be along for another half hour. I’d slept fitfully, waking up a number of times. The last time I’d just decided to go ahead and get up. My mouth had tasted a little raw from all the whiskey I’d drunk the day and night before, so I’d gone straight in and brushed my teeth.

  Hays said, “Boss, what are you going to do?”

  I briefly told him my plans, not even bothering to tell him to keep his mouth shut about it.

  He said, “Ben told me I was supposed to talk you into letting me go along with you. I’d be much obliged if you would.”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “But boss, you needs somebody to watch yore back.”

  “Look here, I’m taking this trip to try to draw out whoever it is. I’ve got to be alone to do that. It looks like that ought to be a pretty easy matter to understand.”

  Hays frowned. “Boss, I just hate to see you going off into strange country with a killer after you and not a friend in sight. Looky here, why couldn’t me and you just happen to be on the same path only I’d stay two or three miles behind you?”

  “Because you’re going to be earning your keep for a change, gathering cattle and because you couldn’t do me any good anyway. Whatever’s going to happen is going to happen faster than you could ride two or three hundred yards, much less two or three miles.”

  “Boss, you are settin’ yoreself up to get bushwhacked.”

  I shook my head in irritation. “Nobody’s going to bushwhack me. Whoever it is wants me to know who’s responsible for the killing. They want me to have time to think on it.”

  But Ray wasn’t convinced. He just sat there looking disturbed. “Boss, it would be a mighty sad day for this ranch if something was to happen to you. I—I ain’t sure, an’ I don’t mean no disrespect, thet any of the other’ns could do yore job.”

  “Ray, will you forget that kind of talk. You and your two vaqueros had better get on over to the cook shack. They’ll be serving up breakfast mighty soon. Now get along. And when you finish breakfast you and Ben pick me out a good packhorse that’s got some speed. Bring it over this morning.”

  He left, going out the front door, but in a moment or two I heard him coming back. He came into the kitchen and I swung around in my chair to ask him what he’d forgot. His eyes were big and wide and there was a piece of the paper that I’d come to recognize oh so well in his hand. He said, “Somebody cracked the Mex I left out front and stuffed this in his shirt where you could see it.”

  Before I looked at the note I said, “What about the vaquero? How bad is he hurt?”

  “Oh, he’s all right. He was just coming around when I went out the door. I bet it ain’t been fifteen minutes since we had us a visitor. It’s just now starting to come light. I reckon that Mex went to sleep and whoever it was give him something to make sure he didn’t wake up. Serves him right for going to sleep.”

  I took the note. It was the same block lettering in soft pencil. It said:

  SCARED TO BE ALONE JUSTA WILLIAMS? WON’T HELP YOU ANY.

  Again, just a threat without a hint as to who or why somebody was gunning for me. I just shook my head and laid the note on the table. Then I told Ray to go on over to ranch headquarters and do like I’d bid him.

  When Ray was gone I spent the next little while fiddling around shaving and putting on clean clothes. Then Juanita came in. I told her to fix my breakfast and after that to stick around and give the house a good cleaning. Then, after she’d fixed my lunch, she could have the next ten days off.

  Well, that tickled her so that she let out a torrent of Spanish, most of which I couldn’t understand. Then it hit her that she was going to lose ten days’ wages. It took a while, but I finally got it across to her that she could have the time off with pay. To make it all the more clear I dug in my pocket and gave her a ten-dollar bill. But I did admonish her I wanted her to come up every few days and give the place a dusting. I made it as clear as I could that I didn’t want the Señora walking in and finding the place a mess.

  “Oh, no, no, no, Señor Williams. No, no, no. Juanita ees a good girl.”

  She might have been a good girl, but I didn’t think Nora had any more chance of making a housekeeper and cook out of her than she did of getting some of that excess lard off her.

  After that I went out to the little corral behind my house and looked over the three horses I kept there. There was the three-year-old bay gelding I’d ridden the day before. He was a Morgan and quarter horse cross, and as I say, that was a combination that would give you quick speed and staying power. There was also a two-year-old roan colt. He was half quarter horse and half American standard bred, another good combination. Then I had a three-year-old roan filly. She was straight quarter horse. I didn’t even really consider her. In the end I decided on the bay gelding. Eventually the roan colt was going to be the better horse. Already he was faster than the bay, but the bay was older and stronger and steadier. I decided on him for the trip. Of course there were a dozen other horses up at headquarters in Ben’s own personal string that would have done just as well, but I preferred a horse I’d been riding steady, a horse whose habits I knew and who knew mine.

  Juanita called me to breakfast, and I went in and ate eggs and pork sausage, and drank some fresh coffee she’d brewed. When I was finished I went into my office and looked over what papers I had there, making sure there was nothing that needed my immediate attention. There was nothing pressing so I poured myself out a drink and leaned back in my chair, sipping at the whiskey. I thought about what Norris had said, and maybe he was right. Ain’t nobody ever made any health claims for whiskey, and I had been hitting it pretty hard of late. It might not be a bad idea to slack off on the stuff. But even thinking that, I still poured myself out another drink. Just thinking of riding off with somebody stalking me put a flutter in my stomach which the whiskey seemed to help.

  After a while I heard some commotion outside and I went to the kitchen door. It was Ben and Ray Hays bringing me the packhorse. Ray’s eyes were drooping so that I was nearly half convinced he had stayed up all night. I went outside. Ben said, “This ain’t exactly a packhorse. I’m not sure we got such a thing on the place. But this is a good animal, six years old and rock steady. He ought to fill your order. I know for a fact he’ll stay with you all the way. What are you going to ride?”

  I nodded my head at the bay. “Ray, will you take that roan colt and the filly back to the headquarter’s corral with you? Won’t be anybody here to look after them after tonight.”

  While Ray was turning the packhorse into the corral I went into the barn and got both the bay and the packhorse a pretty good bait of oats. I’d grain them again that night. I wanted them plenty strong for the trip. Ray had put halter rope
s on the two roans and led them out of the corral. He swung into the saddle of the horse he was riding and said, “I’ll see you tonight, boss.”

  I said, “You better go hit your bunk. You’re liable to go to sleep and fall out of the saddle.”

  He took the colt and the filly on lead and rode off. Ben tarried for a moment. He said, “You coming up to the house for supper?”

  “Yeah. But when you get back tell one of them Mexican women to cook me a beef brisket. Tell her to cook it slow so it’ll keep and wrap it in oilskin. And tell them to lay me aside three or four loaves of bread, several big hunks of cheese. Tell them to wrap them so they’ll keep. Oh, yeah, and tell them to fix me a big pot of beans and to figure out some way to keep the top on. And a slab of bacon.”

  “Sounds like you’re going to try and fatten up.”

  “I don’t figure to hit many towns. Be a lot easier if I stay on the prairie. By the way, how is that vaquero of yours?”

  “Josalito? He’s all right. His head aches, but I gave him a shot of whiskey and he’s feeling better. Probably a damn good thing he was asleep, else that bastard might have killed him.”

  “Ray tell you what the note said?”

  “Yeah. Just about.”

  “Just some more bullshit. Wasn’t anything in there to give me a suspicion about who it might be.”

  Ben was silent for a moment, then said, “I hate to see you going off like this, Justa. It kind of scares me. By yourself.”

  I shrugged. “I been by myself before. I can’t think of anything else to do. I stay here it’ll just mean trouble for the ranch. And God only knows how long this hombre will keep up the mischief. I’m just sorry I brought trouble down on the rest of you.”

  “Don’t talk horseshit, Justa. Any trouble you got the rest of us got too. I just wish you’d let somebody go with you.”

  “Won’t work,” I said shortly. “I do that I might as well stay on the ranch.”

  He nodded and turned his horse. “I’ll see you later.”

  After Ben was gone I piddled around making lists of what I wanted to be sure and take, making careful note about ammunition. I didn’t want to get into a prolonged gunfight out on the prairie and find myself running short. Strictly speaking, I should have been out watching the gather and supervising the cut, but my mind was already on the trip. It wasn’t that I was afraid to expose myself; it was just that I feared I might draw fire that would hit someone it wasn’t intended for.

  Later in the morning I went out and gave the bay and the packhorse a good grooming. I wanted their backs rubbed down good so they wouldn’t get sore or develop some ache or pain that would hinder my progress. When I was finished, Juanita had my lunch ready and I went in and ate. I shooed her off, and then went and had a drink and spent some time reading the latest ranching journals that we subscribed to. I was already getting a kind of lonesome, homesick feeling. To the best of my knowledge I hadn’t ever taken such a trip, and certainly never for the reason it was being forced on me.

  That afternoon I checked to make sure the packsaddle fit the chestnut packhorse Ben had sent me. It worked fine even though the chestnut swung his head around and gave it a curious look. I don’t reckon he’d ever had such on his back before.

  Then I hunted up a couple of tow sacks, saddled the bay, swung aboard, and rode up to the big house. I walked straight into the kitchen. The brisket wasn’t ready, but I loaded up my two sacks with canned tomatoes and apricots and peaches, and a few other odds and ends such as a ten-pound sack of coffee and five loaves of bread. The cooks had wrapped up the bacon for me and the cheese, so I slung that in along with some sugar and some onions. I didn’t bother with flour or anything to make biscuits with because I knew they wouldn’t be fit for anything other than to throw at coyotes. There were considerable kitchen utensils, so I took a coffeepot, skillet, and pot along with some knives, forks, and spoons. The Mexican women had fixed me up a big mess of pinto beans and put them in a big gallon canning jar that had a lid you snapped down with a kind of sealing device. If I didn’t break the glass jar I’d have beans for ten days.

  I thought about taking some eggs, but I knew I’d end up with a pack full of broken ones. It just wouldn’t be worth the trouble. Lastly I went into the office and got four quarts of whiskey and ammunition, six boxes of it. My lever-action carbine was the same caliber as my revolver so that simplified matters.

  It was quiet in the office. Howard was taking his afternoon nap and I was careful not to wake him, and not just because I knew he needed his sleep. If he roused he’d want to talk and I wasn’t much in the mood for it.

  When I’d got everything I could think of I tied the two ends of the tow sack together and slung them over my saddle just behind the saddle horn. Then I mounted and rode slowly for home.

  I put the bay in the corral, and then got a big ground sheet and started packing the different articles in it, rolling them as I went. My bedroll was in the barn along with my slicker. I put the bedroll in the pack I was making, but left my slicker out. Four of the boxes of ammunition and two of the quarts of whiskey I put in the pack; the rest I put in my saddlebags along with my second revolver. If I got in a gunfight and had to cut the packhorse loose, I didn’t want all my ammunition running off across the prairie. When I was done I left the pack open on expectations of getting the brisket that night. The last thing I did was fill two two-gallon canteens of water and lay them on the pack where I wouldn’t forget them. For the first part of my trip there’d be ample water, but if I got pinned down I didn’t want to be smoked out by thirst.

  Lastly I cleaned and oiled my rifle and my two revolvers. I had a Bowie knife, and I sharpened it and fastened it to my belt on the left side. When I was all done I stood looking around, wondering what I’d forgotten. Then I thought of clothes, and I added four pair of fresh socks, three clean shirts, and an extra pair of jeans. It was going to be hot enough so I didn’t bother with any coat.

  After that I took a couple of drinks and then lay down on the bed, which still smelled faintly of Nora even though the sheets had been changed since she’d left. I was going to have to send her a telegram, and I was idly turning over in my mind what I should say when I dozed off. When I awoke I was astonished. I never took a nap in the afternoon. But I’d slept badly the night before, and the nap was as clear an evidence as I needed that I was wearing myself out with apprehension. I looked at my watch. It was going on for six of the evening, time to go up to the big house for supper. I went out and grained the packhorse and the bay and then started walking. This time I carried my rifle. If there was a shot I was going to reply, no matter how wide of the mark I might be.

  Supper was a quiet affair. I think everyone was feeling the strain. Howard was having one of his bad days and hadn’t gotten up, having something light in his room. We had a roast off that expensive yearling, along with potatoes and some sliced tomatoes and onions out of the kitchen garden. There was apple cobbler for dessert, but none of us wanted any. Through the kitchen we could hear Buttercup making those sounds he called singing. It appeared he’d taken off on a pretty good one this time.

  When we were done we went into the office and sat around with a drink in our hands. Ray Hays came in and Ben poured him out one. He sat down and joined the silence. Finally I said, “Ben, you are running the ranch while I’m gone. But I wouldn’t do anything drastic. Everything is pretty well set up. If something comes up ask Howard’s advice and lean pretty heavy on Harley. But let Harley boss the men. That’s his job. You ought never to give an order. That would make Harley look bad and he’s touchy like that.”

  He nodded and drank off a little of his whiskey.

  Hays said, “Say, boss, how do you figure to find this fellow?”

  I said, “I figger on him finding me.”

  Hays said, “He might wish he hadn’t before it’s all over with.”

  We talked a little longer and then I got up to go. “I’ll stop by early to say adios. I might better speak to Ho
ward now, though. He might be asleep tomorrow. I figure to make a mighty early start.”

  I walked over to the door of his room and stuck my head around the sill. He had his eyes shut but they fluttered open. “Son?” he said.

  I said, “I’ll be back two weeks at the outside. You follow the doctor’s orders or you’ll catch hell from me when I get back.”

  “Good luck, son. Keep your head on your shoulders and use it. That’s always been your best weapon, that brain of yours. I don’t have to tell you not to take no risks.”

  “No,” I said. “Well, adios.”

  “Take it easy, son.”

  I gave Norris and Ray and Ben a little wave. Hays called after me, “I’ll be on up in about an hour, boss. I’ve slept all day and I’m fresh as a daisy.”

  “All right,” I said.

  The Mexican women had left the brisket, wrapped in an oilcloth, for me on the dining room table. I gathered it up and then, carrying that in one arm and my rifle in the other, started back for my house. It was a cloudy night and, consequently, the moon wasn’t as bright. I’d be less of a target, but it would also make it harder for my bushwhacker to just barely miss me.

  I walked along, feeling kind of down. I didn’t know if I was doing the right thing or not, but then a man seldom does until he does it. Then, with about three or four hundred yards to my house, I suddenly heard the crack of a rifle. Only this time the sound came from the gulf side and there was no whine of a bullet over my head. I started running toward my house, but it was clumsy going in my high-heeled boots. I hadn’t seen a muzzle flash even though the shot had sounded near enough that I ought to have. But I might have been looking in a different direction when the shot was made.

  Puffing and out of breath I got to my front door and hurried through it. The shot had come from behind the house. I laid the brisket on the kitchen table and then went to the back door and opened it gingerly. I lay down on the floor, peered through the crack I’d made, and tried to see what was to be seen.