Return of the Outlaw (32 page)

“All right,” said Beeman
. “I’ll take it from here.”

Beeman rode over to Arnette
’s, already starting to feel tired and wishing he could go home and go to bed instead of making the long ride out to the Circle M.

At Arnette
’s, Nancy was cleaning tables and Arnette was bustling around, filling salt shakers and shaking tablecloths. They were both anxious to close up and go home after a long day on their feet. Several loose strands of hair hung down on Arnette’s forehead, and her apron and blouse showed stains of cooking and perspiration. She looked expectantly at Beeman but continued with her work when he indicated he had come to speak with Nancy.

“Evening, Sheriff,” said Nancy. She smiled and arranged her hair with one hand in the unconscious way she had when she was around men.

“Evening, Nancy, have you seen Webb today?”

“He left.”

“Did he say when he was coming back?”

“He said sometime this evening
, but to be honest I don’t expect we’ll see him again around here.”

“Any particular reason you think that way?”

“You know what I’m talking about, Alvah; he killed Al Tannatt.”

“Webb didn
’t seem to me like the type that would run, but you know him better than I do. 

“She shrugged her shoulders
. “You’ve got the wrong idea, Sheriff; I don’t know him any better than anyone else around here.”

“I always kind of thought . . .
”

“No, Sheriff. I confess, I tried to get him inter
ested in me but . . .” She hesitated. “It was like he was somewhere else. I mean, his thoughts, his heart. Do you understand?”

Beeman nodded. He
had the same impression about Webb. He would have bet there was much more to the man than anyone here in the valley imagined.

Nancy was looking at him in a way that told him there was noth
ing more to be learned here. Arnette was turning out the bracket lamps.

“Th
anks for your time, Nancy.” With a nod to Arnette, who locked the door behind him, he left.

It was nearly
one o’clock in the morning when Beeman crested the hill from which the Circle M ranch headquarters could be seen dimly in the light of a slit of a moon. He urged his horse forward, tired of the saddle, anxious now to arrive at his destination still a half mile away. Suddenly, out of the darkness came a voice. “Hold ‘er right there.”

Beeman
’s insides went cold as he abruptly reined in his horse.

“Hold a match up
to your face.”

Beeman thought he recognized the voice. More at ease now, he lit a match, holding it in front of his face. “Cracker?”
he ventured.

“Evenin
’ Alvah, or is it mornin’ already?” Cracker drew his horse up next to Beeman’s.

The match burned Beeman
’s thumb and he flicked it away. Striking another, he pulled out his watch and said, “One o’clock, straight up.”

“Just what I thought,”
said Cracker. “You’re too late for supper and too early for breakfast so you must have another reason for riding out here.”

“I do. How many of you are skulking around in the shadows tonight?”

“Why Alvah,”said Cracker in mock indignation, “I’ll have you know I’ve never skulked in my life. Why if you’d got here a little sooner you’d a seen me standing at the top of that hill with a lantern on my head, blowin’ a bugle.”

Beeman laughe
d. “You can call your boys in and all of you can get some sleep.”

“Why
’s that?”

Tannatt
’s willing to talk. “Seth Blake rode in to town tonight to give me the message.”

“Coul
d be a trick.”

“Could be but I don
’t think so.”

“Do you trust Tannatt?”

“I don’t know, but I trust Seth. Anyway, if you’ll relay the message to Jim for me, I think I’ll just go straight to the bunk house and see if I can find an empty bunk.”

“Go right ahead, you
’re welcome to it.”

“Thanks. Tell Jim
that Tannatt agreed to nine o’clock on Sunset Ridge and only those who actually witnessed the fight are to be there.”

“I
’ll tell him,” said Cracker. “Is Webb going to be there?”

“I couldn
’t find him. Nancy over at Arnette’s said he rode out early yesterday morning. He had her pack him a big lunch. She said he told her he was coming back last night but she didn’t think he would; thinks he hightailed it.”

“Probably the smart thing to do, though he didn
’t seem like the type to run,” said Cracker. “I would’ve figured he’d stick.”

“What for?
He’s got nothing here; he’s just a drifter. He might as well drift to some other town where nobody’s gunnin’ for him.”

“He
’s not an ordinary drifter,” said Cracker. 

“What is he
then?”

For a while I thought he was a hired gun, maybe even Dick Masion, but he
’s not that either.”

“How do you know that?”

“Dick Masion would’ve never rode in to the middle of that fight. He would’ve watched from a distance and if the man he was after survived, he would’ve probably bushwhacked him later on. Anyway what reason would Dick Masion or any other hired gun have for saving Jim Marcellin’s life?”

Beeman pondered this information in silence for a moment.

“There’s something else too,” resumed Cracker “When Jim offered him a job, Webb thought he was being offered work as a puncher. But when he found out Jim wanted a gunman, he acted insulted and turned it down.”

Beeman did not approve of this bit of news. “I don
’t like the idea of people starting to hire gunmen around here.”

“You might see it a little different if Al Tannatt and those four boys had been shootin
’ at you, Alvah. Besides the gunmen are already here, we just don’t know who hired ‘em.”

“Who are you talking about
?”

“Rand Fogarty.”

“Fogarty’s here?” asked the sheriff incredulously. 

“He was a while back; we saw him.”

“You should’ve told me.”

“You
’re no match for Fogarty,” said Cracker. “There’s nobody in the valley that is.”

“Next time, tell me,
understand?”

Cracker made no reply, and the men rode in silence for a time. Presently Beeman spoke again
. “Do you have any suspicions on who’s doing the rustling?”‘

“Not really, maybe it
’s the Tannatts.”

“They
’ve lost cattle too,” Beeman pointed out.

“So they say.”

“Could be anybody,” said Beeman. “Could even be the Circle M.”

“I suppose from your point of view anybody and everybody has to be a suspect but it ain
’t the Circle M and I think you know it. The big question is: how are they getting them out of the valley?”

“You figure that out and my guess is you
’ll have figured out who’s doing it. Right now my biggest concern is what’s going to happen tomorrow. If things go bad, cows won’t matter anyhow because inside of three months there won’t be enough men left alive in this valley to run them.”

They were nearing the ranch house and they heard hoof beats coming toward them. The figure of a horse and rider loomed out of the darkness. It was Reef. 

“What?” queried Cracker.

“Webb
’s here. He was comin’ up the south trail and I escorted him in. He’s leadin’ two Double T horses but he won’t say where he got ‘em. Says he wants to see the boss.”

“Where is he?”

“Over at the corral. I told him I’d come and talk to you.”

“Go wake up Hank and Carlos. You hit the sack. Have Carlos and Bill take the next watch and tell Hank I need to talk to him.”

Within five minutes, Cracker, Beeman, Hank, and Jeff were assembled in the front room of the ranch house. A few muttered greetings were exchanged and there was silence as the men waited for Marcellin.

Presently the door to the interior of the house swung open
, and slowly, stiffly, Marcellin limped into the room. He stopped and surveyed the group for a moment and said, “If you gents are here for my wake you’re a little early, but you probably won’t have too much longer to wait.” This comment and the ensuing laughter served to attenuate some of the solemnity that had heretofore marked the gathering. Marcellin made his way to his chair and sat down facing the group of men, some of whom were standing while others sat in the chairs scattered around the room. 

Looking at his foreman he said, “Well, what
’s up?”

Hank shrugged, surprised
. “Don’t look at me, I was asleep.”

“I
’ll start,” said Beeman. “Seth Blake blew into town tonight and said Emil’s willing to talk. He’ll meet you on Sunset Ridge tomorrow at nine.”

“Good,” said Marcellin
. “You’ll be there too, won’t you Alvah?”

“Yes.
Tannatt also wants anybody else involved in the shooting or anyone who witnessed it to be there.”

He turned to
Jeff. “That means you too, Webb.”

“Fine,” said Jeff.

“That’s all I have,” said Beeman.

Now, all eyes turned to Jeff. The men were curious to know what had brought him here at this hour of the night.

Briefly and without mentioning Fogarty’s name, Jeff related how he had followed Fogarty’s trail into the brakes, and of his discovery of the Rustler’s Pass and the meadow on the other side where he had found the two Double T horses. This discovery was met with astonishment, and everyone was eager to know the exact location of the pass.

“I can
’t tell you how to get there,” Jeff said. “It’s too tricky. I’d have to take you.”

Beeman spoke, “Who were you following, Webb, and why?”

Jeff hesitated for a moment and the group was silent, awaiting his reply. Jeff finally answered, “Someone I know and have reason to distrust.”

Beeman was obviously not satisfied with this answer but demanded no more information from Jeff. “So what do you intend to do now?” he asked of Marcellin.

“We’ll talk to Tannatt tomorrow and we’ll decide together. He should be in on it with us.”

It was agreed upon and Marcellin said, “Alvah, you may as well spend what
’s left of the night in the bunk house. You too, Webb.”

Both Jeff and
Beeman agreed with this plan. Just then there was a tap at the door to the hallway.

“Yes?” said Marcellin.

Catherine entered the room, wearing a robe and a shawl. “Jim, were you going to offer our guests something to eat?  Some of them may be hungry.”

“I could use a bite,” sai
d Beeman.

“Wouldn
’t mind some grub myself,” said Jeff, “now that you offer.” His stomach was empty and growling, and he was grateful to Catherine for saving him from going to bed hungry.

After a much needed meal of roast beef sandwiches and cold milk, Jeff thanked Catherine and
stepped outside. As he walked toward the bunk house, he heard the kitchen door open and close. He turned and saw Eli walking toward him. His shirt was unbuttoned and he was barefoot. He carried a candle. Jeff waited as he approached.

“I wanted to talk to you, Webb.”

“Sure,” said Jeff, “where?”

“Here
’s fine, it won’t take long. Just wanted to thank you for saving my dad’s life.”

Jeff merely nodded;
this was awkward enough without him adding to it with words.

Eli look
ed at the gun on Jeff’s hip, grinned and said, “Hear you’re pretty good with that iron.”

Jeff glanced down at the gun but said nothing.

Eli said, “Think you could teach me?”

T
he look on Eli’s face made him seem to Jeff like a little boy. Jeff remembered Catherine telling him that Eli had idolized his big brother and that when Todd was killed in the war, Eli had begun running with Al Tannatt. Now Jeff got the distinct feeling the young man wanted to make him his new hero.

Seeing the look of distaste on Jeff’s face, Eli said, “I was just askin’.”

“Eli, if all you’re going to do all your life is look for somebody to follow, all you’re going to get is somebody else’s leavings. It takes strong people to build something worthwhile. People like your dad and grandma. If you want to follow somebody, you ought to follow them. Or maybe you could grow your own backbone and become the kind of man that leads.”

Eli stood there for an awkward moment, then gave a weak smile and a nod and turned and walked back to the house.

Jeff knew he had been harsh
; he had done it deliberately. There were times when harshness was necessary; if life had taught him anything, it had taught him that. Still, he walked away feeling displeased.