Milo Talon (15 page)

Pablo was hurting, anybody in his right mind could see that. Anyway, he spoke pretty good English, probably as good as I do except when he’s tired or hurt.

“I want to get on the other side of the St. Charles,” I explained. “There’s a meadow over there.”

The horses we had rounded up were following and, I hoped, tracking out any trail we should have made. They might assume we had taken the horses with us, but they might just as well be wandering along on some purpose of their own.

We made a camp at the edge of the meadow and I built a small fire, heated water, and bathed Pablo’s wounds again. In this high altitude wounds tended to heal quickly and infection was less likely to cause trouble.

With some leaves I made a bed for him and got him settled down to rest. The horses, content to be with our horses, whom they knew, wandered out on the meadow. As there was good grass and water close by, it was unlikely they would stray. The other horses which we had not rounded up would be apt to follow along and join them.

“Pablo?”

He opened his eyes. “You sleep now. I’m going to
ride out and scout for that cabin. There’s a girl lives up here, I think. If I can find her I can get some grub.”

“Bueno.”
He closed his eyes.

Standing over him, I hesitated, not liking to go off and leave him like that; but we’d both slept out many a time under worse circumstances and I’d not be gone long. If my guess was right the valley I was hunting would be no more than four or five miles as the crow flies.

Checking my Winchester first, then my Colt to make sure both were fully loaded, I roped one of Shelby’s horses, switched saddles, and rode northeast hunting a trail.

So far as I knew there was no way into the valley except from the south.

If I could get some care for Pablo and a place where he could lay up a few days while getting his strength back, I would try to head back to scout that valley where Anne might have settled. It was high time I got on with my job. Seeing Anne would be nice. I’d never known her well, but she was a mighty pretty girl and this gave me a chance to get better acquainted, although I’d no time to waste.

There might have been a better way to where I was going but I hadn’t the time to look for it. The one way I knew was the way everybody went, following the north branch of the St. Charles. Riding down through the trees, following an old trail I stumbled upon, a trail dappled with sunlight falling through the trees, I went back over the problem.

Except for the money I’d advanced to Molly Fletcher I had spent little of the gold given me by
Jefferson Henry, which was just as well. I had a good notion it was all of his money I’d ever see. He had talked about spending as much as fifty thousand dollars to find her, but I doubted if he was getting from me what he expected.

Somehow he had the notion that I knew something, which I certainly did not, but in my own clumsy way I was stirring things up too much. The men who attacked the horse-camp must have been his … or whoever else was in the game.

When I found my way to the trail into Fisher’s Hole, I pulled up and studied it. There was nothing about it I liked although I doubted if I’d run into trouble here. These people we’d had trouble with were outsiders and I doubted any of them would even know of this place. Still, there were too many places where a man with a rifle could control that pass.

I saw no fresh tracks on the trail. It had been several days at least since anybody had ridden that way. Winchester in my hands, I started my horse into the Hole.

There was another road that went out toward Canon City, and somebody back yonder had mentioned a sawmill operating in the Hole and lumber being brought out to Fountain City. Business must be quiet because I saw no sign of that. Several people lived in the Hole but I knew none of them except by name.

There was a nice smell from the pines and I rode into the Hole and picked up the trail to the cabin where I’d heard Anne was staying.

What I had to remember was I hadn’t come all this
way to see Anne. What I was looking for was a place to bring Pablo.

It was a log cabin and there was a corral nearby. As I rode up I saw somebody move inside one of the windows and then the door opened and a man came out. He carried a shotgun and had a pistol belted on. He was a big man, quite heavy, with thick black eyebrows and a handlebar mustache.

“Lookin’ for something?”

“I was looking for Anne. Tell her Milo Talon is here.”

“Never heard of you.”

“If you will just tell her, I think she will remember me.”

“She hasn’t got time for saddle-tramps. Just you take off down the trail.”

“Without even a cup of coffee? I treated her better than that when she stopped at our ranch.”

He hesitated, and I heard a voice from within say something. He seemed undecided. “You’re riding a Shelby horse,” he said.

“That’s right. I’ve got a herd of them right up on the hill, and a wounded man who needs some care. He’s been shot.”

“Shot by who?” He was interested now.

“Some riders from out of the country. Strangers. They attacked the Shelby horse-camp, scattered the stock, and wounded Pablo. He’s not bad off, but he needs care.”

Now, in western country no man was ever turned away who needed help. This man did not like the idea but he was worried now.

Anne suddenly appeared in the door and she was even prettier than I remembered. “Oh? Milo, I’m sorry. I had no idea. We’ve been having trouble around here so we’ve had to be cautious.”

“Trouble?”

“Rustlers. Some of the Mexican bandits who used to hide out here. You may have heard the story. There was a man named Maes.”

“Yes, I’ve heard of him.”

“You wanted some coffee? Get down and come in.” She turned to the big man. “It’s all right, Sam. I know him.”

There was a fire burning in the fireplace. The room was neat as could be, with curtains in the windows, and a square table, a red-checkered tablecloth, and dishes on it ready for a meal. Another man sat in a rocker near the fireplace. He wore a store-bought suit and a stiff collar. He had a sharp, shrewd face and hard little eyes that missed nothing.

There was a woman, a big woman who looked to be stronger than Eyebrows.

“Gladys? Will you serve Mr. Talon some coffee? And you might fry some eggs for him.” She looked at me again. “It’s been sometime since you’ve eaten, I suppose?”

“Yesterday,” I explained. “When they scattered the Shelby horses I was headed for his camp to eat with Pablo. Neither of us has eaten since.”

The food couldn’t have been better, and the coffee was the best I’d had, but something was completely wrong about this setup. Anne had been unusual in some ways, but being a city girl I’d sort of expected it.
The setup here didn’t seem natural, and nobody was acting right. I had an idea there might have been a quarrel and I’d stepped into the middle of it. It was that sort of feeling, and it embarrassed me. Anyway, I didn’t think it was any place to bring Pablo.

“Ma’am? I don’t want to bother you folks, but Pablo’s wounded. If you could let me have a little grub and something to fix up that wound, I’ll be on my way.”

“Of course. You just finish eating, Milo, and we will put something together for you.”

Eyebrows went to the door and peered down the trail, shotgun in hand. It looked like they were expecting trouble and I’d had enough. With this crowd around there’d be no chance to talk to Anne, anyway.

Filling my cup a second time, I watched them hurriedly putting a package of food together, looking around for paper to wrap it up, then bringing it to me in a burlap sack that I could carry on my saddle.

“I’m sorry, Milo. We’ve had trouble here and everybody is a little tense. Next time you’re by this way, why don’t you drop in and see me?”

Gulping the last of the coffee, I stood up. As I did so something fell in the next room. The big woman gasped and the man with the eyebrows half-lifted his shotgun.

“Thanks, Anne, and thanks to you folks.” I put on my hat. I went down the step and walked over to where my horse was tied. Gathering the reins, I mounted, not looking back, but I knew that Eyebrows was standing on the step watching me go.

I waved as I turned away but he did not respond.

It wasn’t until I rounded a clump of trees that I started to wonder. Who was in that bedroom? What were they scared of? Or wary of?

None of my business. I had troubles enough.

I
T WAS LATE before I found my way back to where Pablo lay. He was sleeping, looking gaunt and worn. The Shelby horses were feeding on the meadow and I roped a horse for Pablo and caught up my own horse. Leading them back to camp, I stripped the gear from the horse I’d been riding and turned him loose. Then I picketed my horse and Pablo’s close by in case of need.

There were a few coals left of the fire so I added some bark and twigs, blowing up a small blaze. There was an old, beat-up coffeepot and a couple of cups in the things Anne’s people had sent along, so I made coffee, fried some bacon, and sliced some bread from the loaf.

“It is a good smell, the coffee.”

When I looked around Pablo was sitting up. I forked up several slices of bacon and put them on some of the paper the food had been wrapped in. “Eat,” I said, “the coffee will be ready in a minute.”

Then I added, “I went down to Fisher’s Hole. Do you know it?”

“Sí
, we call it Maes’ Hole for a Mexican who lived there. Sometimes he was a bandit, but a friendly man if you came to his house. I knew him when I was a small boy.”

“Something’s bothering those folks down there,” I said. “They acted kind of jumpy.”

“Are they mixed up in your trouble?”

“Them? No, of course not. How could they be? There’s no connection. Living alone like that, it’s likely they’d be wary of some stranger riding up.”

“You knew this Anne?”

“Well, sort of. They came by the ranch, stayed to rest up. Anne’s a mighty taking girl. Beautiful. I don’t know what I expected. Hell, I only talked to her a couple of times but I sort of thought … well, you know how it is.”

“
Sí
, I know.”

“She was nice enough. About what you’d expect from a fine young lady like that. After all, that was a long time ago. I never even held her hand.”

“Maybe that was the trouble,
amigo
. You did not try, even?”

“Tell you the truth, I was kind of scared of her. She was eastern, looked eastern, anyway, and here I was just a cowhand—”

Pablo was amused. “A cowhand,
sí
. But your
madre
owns one of the finest ranches anywhere around. You are far from a simple cowboy,
amigo.”

Lazing by the fire, drinking coffee, I told him all that happened down below, and as I repeated it to him I began to be bothered by it. I sat up and added sticks to the fire, worrying with it a little and thinking. The fire blazed up and I added some sticks. Come to think of it they had been mighty anxious to get rid of me, and when something fell in that other room, they all jumped like they were shot. What was going on, anyway? Well, it was none of my business. I had troubles enough.

“You get some sleep,” I said to Pablo, “and I’ll do the same.”

Tomorrow, with luck, I could get him down to town. I stretched out on the leaves, a saddle-blanket around my shoulders and my head on the saddle. Looking up through the trees I could see St. Charles Peak looming above us. Nearly twelve thousand feet, somebody had said.

Odd, a girl like Anne living in Fisher’s Hole. Last place on earth you’d expect to find a girl like that. Mr. Eyebrows now, I didn’t like him very much. He’d have shot me for a plugged two-bit piece.

What was wrong down there, anyway?

In the middle of the night I awakened and added some fuel to the fire, then lay back and listened into the night. There was nothing, nothing at all. Yet something was worrying me beyond the usual.

Shaking it off, I went over what I knew and what I had to do.

There were bright stars overhead and wind talking softly through the pines; higher on the slopes of the peak were the ragged battalions of spruce, harried by wind. Mentally I roamed through those dark forests trying to find a solution to my problems. Perhaps I was attempting too much. Possibly it was beyond my skills to find such a girl through such a maze of detail. Somewhere I fell asleep and awakened in the morning resolved to continue. After all, I did not have to build a case, all I had to do was find one girl and I’d be finished, and girls were not that many in that country at the time.

Stop worrying about details and simply find the
girl, that was what I told myself. What difference did it make that the motives of Henry, Topp, the men who killed Tut, and all the rest were obscure?

“We’re riding into town, Pablo,” I said. “I’ve got to get you where you can rest and recuperate. Then I’m going to find that girl and wind this thing up.”

We hit the trail before daybreak and came down off the mountain at a good speed, then turned east toward town. We switched horses several times but rode into town and pulled up at Maggie’s.