No Trouble for the Cactus Kid (2 page)

The deputy was not in his office. A cowhand sitting o n the top rail of the corral called over that the deputy ha d ridden over to Horse Mesa. The Cactus Kid walked bac k along the street and entered the busiest saloon. One drin k and he would be on his way. Picking up the calico woul d require but a few minutes.

Severa
l men were loitering at the bar. One was a lean , wiry man with bowed legs, and a dry, saturnine expression. He glanced at the Cactus Kid and then looked away.

There was another man, standing near him but obviousl y not with him, who was a large, bulky man with bulgin g blue eyes which stared at the Kid like a couple of aime d rifles.

Of course, even the Cactus Kid would have admitte d that he was something to look at when n o t in his workin g clothes. He was, he cheerfully confessed, a dude. Hi s sombrero was pure white, with a colored horsehair band.

His shirt was forest green, and over it he wore a beautifully tanned buckskin vest heavily ornamented with India n work in beads and porcupine quills. His crossed gun belt s were of russet leather, the belt and holsters studded wit h silver. His trousers were of homespun, but striped, and hi s boots were highly polished, a rare thing on the frontier.

The larger of the two men eyed him disdainfully, the n looked away. The Kid was used to that, for those who di d not know him always assumed he was a tenderfoot, a mistake that had led to more than one bit of the troubl e that seemed to await him at every corner.

The larger of the two men had several notches carved i d his gun b utt.

The Kid ordered his drink, but he decided he did no t like the man with the bulging eyes. He had never like d anybody who carved notches in their gun butts, anyway.

It was a tinhorn's trick.

The Kid looked at Joe Chance, the bartender, who wa s obviously uneasy, and had been so ever since the Ki d walked into the saloon.

The Kid had promised Bonita not to get into trouble , but nonetheless what he had found had been a coldbloode d ruthless murder and one of the two men had done it. Bot h had been riding, as was obvious from the trail dust the y carried, and, from the attitudes of the others in the room , both were strangers.

"Chance," he said, "what would you think of a man wh o dry-gulched a passing rider, then walked up and shot int o him a couple of times to make sure he was dead, then too k his horse?
"

Joe Chance knew the Cactus Kid. The mirror he no w had behind the bar had caused the Kid to cough up thre e months wages to pay for it, and it had only been in plac e about sixty days.

Chance shifted his eyes warily and reached for a glass t o polish. "Why, I'd think the man was a dirty murderer wh o deserved hangin'!"

After a pause, his own curiosity getting the best of him , he asked, "Who done such a thing?
"

"Why, I don't rightly know at this minute, but I got a n idea we'll find out. He came over the trail just ahead o f me.
He robbed the man he murdered, and he's in town right now!"

The bow-legged man lifted his eyes to meet those of th e Kid. There was something mocking and dangerous in thos e eyes. The Kid knew he was looking into the eyes of a ma n who both could and would shoot. "I just rode in," th e man said calmly.

"So did I." The big man put his glass down hard on th e bar.
Are you aimin that talk at us?

"No," the Kid said mildly, "only at one of you. Only , the other man must have heard those shots, and I'
m wondering why he didn't do anything."

"What did you do?" the bow-legged man asked.

"Nothing. The killer caught sight of me and tried to cu t me down, too. Hadn't been for that I'd have ridden righ t on by and I'd never have seen the dead man.

"The man who was killed," he added, "went by th e name of Wayne Parsons. He was from Silver City."

"Never heard of him.." The biggest of the two me n obviously shifted his gun. "I come from Tombstone." Hi s eyes rested on the Cactus Kid, and their expression wa s anything but pleasant. "They call me the Black Bantam."

-Never heard of you," he lied. Bantam was a notoriou s outlaw who had been riding, it was said, with Curly Bill.

"There's plenty of people who has," Bantam said, "an d if I was you, young feller, and I didn't want to get all the m party clothes bloody, I'd go herd my cows and leave m y betters alone."

"I didn't come to town huntin' sheep," the Cactus Ki d said calmly, "or I'd dig my hands in your wool. Nor did I c ome for cows. I came to get some calico for my girl'
s dress, which doesn't leave me much time to curry you r wool, Bantam.

"All I've got to say is that one of you is riding a dea d man's horse and carryin' stolen money."

Bantam's fury was obvious. He was facing the bar, bu t he turned slowly to face the Kid. Men backed off t o corners of the room, and the bartender took a tentativ e step toward them, then changed his mind and backed off.

"Now, see here -- !" he started to say, when --

"Hold it, Bantam!"

All heads turned at the interruption. It was the bow-legged rider. "Nobody's asked me who I am, and I'm no t plannin' to explain. If you need a handle for me just cal l me Texas.

"But Bantam it seems to me this is between us. He say s one of us is guilty, so why don't we settle this between us?

Just you and me?" Texas smiled. "Besides, I don't thin k you'd like takin' a whippin' from that youngster."

"Whuppin?
Why, I'd -- !"

"No, you wouldn't, Bantam. I've known all about yo u for a long time, and you never did hunt trouble wit h anybody who'd have a chance. This dude youngster her e is the Cactus Kid.

"Now it seems to me it is between us, so why don't w e just empty our pockets on the table here so everybody ca n see what we're carrying.

"The Kid is handy at readin' sign, so maybe he will se e something that will tell him which one of us is the killer."

He moved closer, his eyes dancing with a taunting amusement. "How about it, Kid'?"

The Kid's eyes shifted from one to the other, the on e taunting and challenging, the other stubborn and angry.

"Why not'?" Bantam thrust a big hand into his pocke t and began putting the contents of his pockets on the table.

The man who called himself Texas did likewise.

"There it is, Kid. Look it over!"

Joe Chance leaned over the bar to watch, as did Sli m Reynolds and Art Vertrees, the only others present.

In the pile Texas made were a worn tobacco pouch, a jackknife, a plug of chewing tobacco, several coins, a smal l coil of rawhide string, and a small handful of gold coin s wrapped in paper. There were two rifle bullets.

In Bantam's pile there was a wad of paper money, som e sixty dollars worth, some small change, a Mexican silve r peso, a jackknife, a plug of chewing tobacco, a stub pipe, a tight ball of paper, a comb, and some matches.

Thoughtfully, the Cactus Kid looked over the two piles.

There was nothing that could be identified with any man.

It was merely such stuff' as could be found in the pocket s of any cowhand. Except -- he picked up the ball of tightl y rolled paper and slowly unrolled it.

It unfolded into a plain sheet of writing paper that ha d been folded just once. There were also marks that made i t appear the paper had been folded about something. Th e crinkling from being rolled up was obviously more recen t that the soiled line of the old crease.

It was not the fold the Kid was noticing, nor the fain t imprint of what might have been carried within that folde d sheet but rather the diagonal line of the sweat stain tha t ran across the papers.

That ain
'
t mine!" Bantam protested. I had no suc h paper in my pocket!" He was suddenly frightened and hi s lips worked nervously. "I tell you -- I"

Texas had drawn back to one side, poised and ready.

The Cactus Kid drew the dead man's papers from hi s pocket and placed them beside the folded paper. Th e diagonal sweat stains matche d perfectly.

"So?" Texas said. "It was you, Bantam! You killed him!"

"You're a liar!" Bantam said angrily. "I done no -- !"

Texas' hand streaked for his gun, and Bantam grabbe d at his own gun. The two shots sounded almost as one, bu t it was Bantam who fell.

Texas holstered his gun.
Had no idea he d draw on me , but a man's got to watch those kind."

Nobody replied, and he gathered his things from th e bar and went outside.

The Kid turned back to Joe Chance. "Better give m e another shot of rye; then I'm picking up my caliw an d headin' for home. This town's too sudden for me."

Two of the bystanders took t he big man's body out, an d later Sl i m Reynolds came in. "He must have cached tha t stolen money somewhere because he surely didn't have i t on him."

"Bantam's had it coming for a long time,"- Vertrees said , "and Texas was right. He never killed anybody in a fai r fight."

"What about that grulla mustang ot' his'?" Reynolds asked.

"That's a mighty fine horse."

The Kid put his g l ass down on the bar. "Did Banta m ride the grulla'? Are you sure?
"

"Of course,
Vertrees replied, surprised. I w as on th e street when he rode in. He was only a little ahead o f Texas, who was riding a bay."

The Cactus Kid turned and started for the door. He wa s in the saddle and started down the street when he though t of the calico.

Bonita wouldn't like this. He had promised her faithfully he'd return with that calico, and after all, huntin g killers was the sheriff's job. Angrily, he turned the pain t and trotted back to the store. "Got some red and whit e calicos" he asked.

"Sure haven't! I'm sorry, Kid, but a fellow just came i n and bought the whole bolt. Bed and white it was, too."

"What kind of a fellow ?
" The Kid asked suspiciously.

"A pretty salty-lookin' fellow. He was bow-legged an d had a Texas drawl."

"Why, that dirty, no-account -- !" The Kid ran for hi s horse.

As he started out of town Reynolds flagged him down.

Kid? What d you make of this?" He indicated a plac e in the skirt of Bantam's saddle where the stitching ha d been slit. Obviously something had been hidden there.

"Do you believe that Texas man stole tha t money?
"

"No, he was the killer, himself!"

Why Texas had headed back along the trail down whic h they had come he could not guess, but that was exactl y what he was doing.

It was a
grueling chase. The paint pony liked to run , however, and although the bay was a long-legged brut e they moved up on him. Occasionally, far ahead, he glimpse d dust. Then it dawned on him that Texas was not trying t o escape. He was simply staying enough ahead to be safe fo r the time being.

That could mean he planned to trap him in the hill s somewhere ahead. After all, Texas had dry-gulched tha t other man.

When they reached the hills, the Kid turned off th e trail. This was his old stamping grounds, and he ha d hunted strays all through these hills and knew their ever y turn and draw. He knew Mule Creek and the Maveric k Mountains like it was his own dooryard.

Climbing the pony up the banks of the draw, the Ki d skirted a cluster of red rocks and rode down through a narrow canyon where the ledges lay layer on layer like a n enormous chocolate cake, and emerged on a cedare d hillside.

He loped the paint through the cedars, weaving a purposely erratic path, so if observed he would not make a n e ff ective target, then he went down into the draw, crosse d the Agua Fria, and circled back toward the trail, movin g slowly with care. He was none too soon.

Texas was loping the bay and glancing from side to sid e of the trail. Almost opposite the Kid's hiding place, h e reined in suddenly and swung down, headed for a bunc h of rocks across the way.

The Kid stepped into the open. "It was a good idea , Texas," he said, "only I had it, too."

Startled, the man turned very slowly. "I knew you'
d figure it out, Kid. I thought I'd just buy all that calico t o make sure you followed me. I just don't want any witnesse s left behind.

"Anyway, that girl of yours would still need a dress, an d I could always say your dyin' words were that I shoul d take it to her, and that I was to stay by an' care for her , like."

He let go of the reins of his horse. "I mould like to kno w how you figured it out, though."

"It was the Henry rifle. When you rode off on the ba y with the Henry in the scabbard I knew it had to be you. I f ound a shell from that ri fl e.

"Bantam was really surprised when he saw that paper , You'd slipped it into his pocket wh e n you were standin g close, then you called him a liar and killed him before h e had a chance to talk. Then you went to his saddle an d recovered the money."

"It was this way, Kid. I'd tai l ed Parsons to kill him fo r his money, hut after I did, Bantam opened fi re on me an d run me off. He'd been trailing him, too. Then he wen t down to the body, got the money and lit out.