Goodnight's Dream (A Floating Outfit Western Book 4) (24 page)

‘
Now for Luhmere,’ he breathed.
‘Whooee! I wouldn’t want to go through that again in a hurry—or
ever.’

It was, he knew, as tight a
spot as he had ever been in. Once more he had reason to be thankful
for his small size, insignificant appearance and the
karate
lessons received
from Tommy Okasi.

Fully armed again, Dusty went to the top of
the slope and took his first long look at the mustangers’ camp. The
cabin, with the horses before it, was closest to his position.
Without a time-consuming detour, he could not make use of the barn
or corral as a means of concealment. While he could reach the foot
of the slope unseen, he faced crossing some sixty yards of open
ground from there to his destination. Going down the slope from
cover to cover, Dusty gave rapid thought to the problem and found
himself faced with two choices. Either he could make a run for the
building, hoping to arrive before Luhmere heard him, or he could
attempt to drift up silently and unsuspected.

Neither prospect was particularly
satisfactory, but by the time he had reached the edge of the open
ground Dusty had elected to try the latter. Running would make too
much noise and was certain to disturb the three horses. By
approaching at an apparently leisurely walk, he might hope that
Luhmere thought it was one of his companions returning. The horses
were less likely to take fright and raise an alarm at the sight of
a walking man, even if they did not know him.

Carbine held before him ready for use, Dusty
advanced from behind the last of the trees. He was at an angle from
the front of the building. Its windows had boards across them, with
spaces between which the barrel of a weapon could be lined.
However, the builder had done his work well. Search as minutely as
he might, Dusty could see no place in the walls where the chinking
had fallen from between the logs sufficiently to allow Luhmere to
fire on him through the gap.

The horses out front presented
the greatest danger, but they stood with their rumps to him.
Walking as gently as if crossing over eggshells on top of Ketchum
grenades,
^xx
Dusty knew the wind did not carry his
scent to the animals and hoped to remain undetected.

Step by step Dusty drew nearer to the cabin.
Still Luhmere showed no hint of knowing of his presence. Twenty
yards from the building, he wondered if he should continue the walk
or stake all in a sudden dash. The matter was taken out of his
hands in no uncertain manner.

Faintly he heard the sound of horses’ hooves
on the other slope. Looking up, he saw four men riding through the
trees and downwards. Although three of them wore range clothes, the
fourth was a heavily built dude whom Goodnight would have
recognized as one of his rivals for the Army contract. Dusty did
not identify the man as such, but figured whom he must be from the
shouted conversation heard earlier between Luhmere, Turner and
Scroggins. From their reactions, Dusty decided that at least some
of newcomers knew him.

Reining in their horses, they stared into the
valley and one of the range men yelled, ‘It’s the runt that was
with Goodnight!’

‘
Runt nothing,’ a second westerner went
on, grabbing for his revolver. ‘He’s Dusty Fog.’

‘
It’s sure nice to be well known!’
Dusty breathed, starting to swing the carbine to his
shoulder.

Although the second speaker drew fast, he was
beyond any range at which a revolver could hope to make a hit.
Which did not prevent him from trying. Coming out, his Colt
cracked. Where its bullet went did not concern Dusty. Cradling the
carbine against his shoulder, he began to take aim at his
attacker.

‘
Get him!’ screeched the dude. ‘Where
the hell are you Luhmere?’

A question Dusty could have
answered. Before he could line his sights and squeeze the trigger,
he saw the cabin’s front door bust open. Revolver in hand, Luhmere
lunged into the open. The sound of the shot and voices had alerted
him and his eyes raked around to see what had caused them. At
the
sight of
Dusty, Luhmere swung around and tried to throw down on him.
Changing his aim, Dusty touched off a shot at the exact moment
Luhmere let his Colt’s hammer fall. At twenty yards, the little
Winchester had the edge over any revolver in the matter of
accuracy. So Luhmere’s bullet missed Dusty by a couple of inches.
The small Texan’s struck the other man in the body. Reeling under
the impact of the flat-nosed piece of lead, Luhmere disappeared
into the cabin.

Down the slope raced the men, firing as they
came. So far they were using only their revolvers and were not
aided by sitting fast-running horses. Dusty knew that their aim
would improve as the range decreased. In fact a couple of bullets
came near enough to emphasize the danger. Blurring the carbine’s
lever through its reloading cycle, Dusty leapt towards the cabin.
Flying lead churned into the wood, throwing splinters just above
his head. Then he was hidden from the newcomers by the side of the
building. Halting, he raised the carbine and thrust it around the
corner to sight at the nearest of the four men.

The horses were snorting and fighting against
their reins, but Dusty heard another sound. Turning his head, he
saw Luhmere coming from the cabin. Blood was running down the man’s
shirt, but he still held his revolver and was clearly well enough
to use it.

With the carbine’s barrel extended beyond the
end of the building, Dusty knew he could not hope to withdraw and
turn it fast enough to save himself. So he did not try. Instead he
released it and threw himself backwards with hands fanning across
to his Colts. Luhmere’s gun roared, but he was still aiming at
where Dusty had been standing and missed. Landing on his back,
Dusty cut loose with both his revolvers. Angling up and inwards,
the bullets ripped through Luhmere’s left breast barely an inch
apart. Slammed backwards, the man once more disappeared into the
cabin. This time Dusty did not expect to see him come out.

By that time the riders had
reached the far side of the stream and Dusty landed in plain sight
of them. Starting to sit up, he felt the hat torn from his head by
a bullet. Knowing the deadly gun-skill of the man they faced, the
three range-raised riders reined in their horses. Either Wednesbury
failed
to
recognize the danger, or had less control of his mount. Whatever
the reason, he plunged into the water waving his revolver and
heading across. Suddenly, for no apparent reason it seemed, the
dude jolted back and slid sideways from his saddle. As he splashed
into the stream, the deep crack of a Spencer carbine sounded on the
rim at the side he approached.

More shots blasted from behind Dusty and he
could see the consternation that rose among the attacking trio. One
of them tumbled from his horse and the last two set their mounts
galloping, headed back the way they had come as fast as they could
go. They were speeded on their way by the wild ‘Yeeah!’ rebel war
yell Dusty knew all too well.

Standing up, Dusty looked to where Red Blaze
and Spat were running towards him followed by five more of the
Swinging G’s cowhands.

‘
Are you all right, Dusty?’ Red
asked.

‘
Sure,’ the small Texan replied and
looked wryly at his bullet-holed new Stetson. ‘But this’s the
roughest section on hats I’ve ever seen.’

‘
Wednesbury’s his name,’ Goodnight said
as he and the sheriff of Young County looked at the dude’s body.
‘He was one of the pair who had bid against me for the Army beef
contract.’

‘
And they’ve been trying every damned
which ways to stop Uncle Charlie getting enough cattle to fill it,’
Red went on.

‘
Can you prove that?’ Sheriff Kater
inquired.

‘
Not in a way we could put before a
judge and jury,’ Dusty replied before his impulsive cousin could
speak.

It was noon on the day after the fight and
the sheriff had been fetched out from Graham to learn of it. After
examining the sign at the scene of Dusty’s capture and around the
cabin, Kater was inspecting the bodies and asking his questions.
Red went on to tell how one of the cowhands had discovered tracks
that proved that somebody had been watching them working. Further
investigation disclosed that the surveillance had been going on for
at least four days. So Goodnight had sent Red and five men to track
down and if possible capture the snooper. On the way, they had met
Spat who led them to their goal. Nearing the camp, Red displayed
the cool capability so few people suspected. He ordered the men to
leave their horses and make the rest of the journey on foot.
Drawing near to the valley, they had heard the shooting and arrived
just in time to give Dusty a badly needed hand.

‘
Only one
of
’em
was alive,’ Red finished. ‘There wasn’t time for real fancy
shooting.’

‘
Turner talked when he
come around and found himself at the Swinging G house,’ Dusty went
on. ‘Not that he knew much. Luhmere was the big augur for the
three, he was the only one real close to the bosses and never told
the other two
more than he needed. As far as I can tell, the
idea was formed when their bosses learned about Pitzer losing the
herd. They knew what kind of man Chisum was and figured he’d turn
on Uncle Charlie if he was paid well enough—’

‘
I’d like to think Chisum didn’t know
about the rest of the game,’ Goodnight put in, ‘and allowed all
they wanted was to stop me getting enough cattle together to fill
the contract.’

‘
Maybe that’s all he
knew,’ Dusty drawled. ‘He went along, anyways. Only we heard how he
got the herd earlier than they figured, thanks to Dawn. So the
cattle weren’t mixed with your stuff when Luhmere brought Wardle
and the other ranchers. I’ll bet that none of Chisum’s crew’d’ve
come out from Graham if all had gone as it was supposed to, so’s
they’d not be around when the shooting started. Turner says that
he, Scroggins and Luhmere sat clear of the others ready to pull
out
pronto
when Wardle got the powder burning. Only Wardle didn’t, so
Luhmere made a crack at starting it himself.’

‘
Only you stopped him,’ Kater
commented.

‘
Not well enough,’ Dusty answered.
‘Turner allows that they found this camp and Luhmere left him here
with Scroggins to watch how we got on, then went to meet up with
their bosses, but doesn’t know where. When Luhmere got back, he
said they wouldn’t get paid unless they did a better job at
scattering the herd. The two of them were coming to see if they
could figure on a way of doing it when Luhmere got word the boss
was coming. Feller who told him went back to fetch Wednesbury along
and Luhmere collected his pards. Scroggins either saw or heard me
following and they caught me. Only I spoiled their
game.’

‘
You near on got spoiled yourself,’ Red
pointed out.

‘
Sure,’ admitted Dusty. ‘You boys came
just right when I needed you most.’

‘
Does Turner know who helped those
three fellers bust out of my jail?’ asked the sheriff.

‘
No,’ Dusty replied. ‘I reckon it was
Targue, when he pretended to go for Chisum, but I can’t prove it.
Fact being, I can’t prove anything except that Wednesbury tried to
get me killed yesterday.’

‘
Do you want me to do anything,
Charlie?’ Kater inquired.

‘
Not unless you want to. And it’d
likely be a waste of time trying. Wednesbury’s partner’d deny all
knowledge and we can’t prove he had any.’

‘
Those two fellers who run out kept
going,’ Red remarked. ‘Even if they tell Wednesbury’s pard what’s
happened, they won’t have time to try again.’

‘
We’ll be moving out in two days,
Wade,’ Goodnight explained. ‘I’ve got my herd gathered and word
came in afore we left the spread this morning that the Mineral
Wells men and cattle’ll be here today. Given a touch of luck, I’ll
be waiting at Fort Sumner when Wednesbury’s partner arrives. We’ll
settle things any way he wants when he gets there.’

‘
It’s your play, Charlie,’ Kater
stated. ‘I’ll tend to things at this end. On my way back, I’ll
collect Turner and take him to jail. I reckon you’ve got things to
do.’

‘
I have,’ Goodnight agreed. ‘Dustine,
Charles, come with me. You boys stay and help the
sheriff.’

By the time they reached the vicinity of the
lake, they saw the Mineral Wells stock being driven towards the
shipping herd. A faint smile played on Goodnight’s face at the
sight. The means to make his dream come true were at hand. Then the
smile faded. Wednesbury was dead, but his partner remained alive
and active. There might be other attempts to prevent Goodnight from
delivering the herd to Fort Sumner.

The story of the trail drive and how
Goodnight’s dream developed is to be told in

FROM HIDE AND HORN

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