Return of the Outlaw (42 page)

“Good
morning, Willard,” he said brightly. “I bring you very good news.”

Deering folded his arms on his chest and leaned back in his chair
, eyeing Stewart skeptically. “Good news?”

“Yes.
I’ve received word that all my financial affairs back East are pretty much in order. Soon I’ll be depositing a large sum of money here in your bank. About seventy thousand dollars, to be exact.”

A tiny light flickered in Deering
’s hooded eyes.

Stewart continued, “I
’m earmarking that money for investment purposes.”

“What kinds of investments?” Deering
’s voice sounded only slightly warmer.

“You tell me, Willard, w
e’re going to be partners aren’t we?”

Deering said, “I don
’t know, Tom, too many things have happened. A lot of people are unhappy with you. First there was that business with Havens and Lopez, then all those Mexican farmers your men have chased off their land, not to mention the killings.”

Stewart shook his head. “There are two sides to that story, Willard
. Concerning the land situation, Fogarty has been acting without my consent or knowledge. It’s my fault, I admit; I should have been more aware of what my head man was doing. It’s always been one of my flaws that I trust people too much. When you’re honest, you tend to think everybody else is honest too. It was my understanding that Rand was chasing squatters and rustlers off T.S. land. I learned only recently that it was more than that in some cases, and I intend to do something about it. As for the killings, those were done by Jeff Havens; I’m sure of it. He’s an insane murderer. Why, he even killed his friend Dan Fitzgerald—hung him from a tree.”

Deering
’s attitude relaxed noticeably as Stewart spoke. It occurred to the banker that if Stewart made restitution for Fogarty’s crimes, he, Deering, might be able to circulate the rumor that he had been personally responsible for convincing Stewart to do so, thereby increasing his own popularity. “What are you planning to do for the farmers who lost their land, Tom?”

“Why, give it back to them.” Stewart spoke as though he were a man to whom the only path available was that of honor and justice. “I will make amends, Willard, trust me. Now about those investments, can I count on you as a partner? I need your savvy.”

“I’m sorry, Tom but I don’t think it would make me very popular to be in business with you right now.”

“Willard
, I understand. I wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize your standing in the community. I realize now Fogarty has been too heavy-handed. I can’t tell you how bad I feel about the things that have happened. As soon as I can replace them, I’ll be firing Fogarty and some of the other men. But these investments I’m speaking of are not local. No one around here even needs to know about them; in fact, I don’t want them to.” Stewart leaned forward, false excitement shining in his eyes. “Lloyd, you’re not going to believe what I’ve got for you. I’ve been up north and I’ve made arrangements to buy several ranches. Most of them are adjacent to one another, and combined, they would make one of the largest spreads in the country. We’ll be paying about ten cents on the dollar for the land, and we can hang on to it and allow it to appreciate or even make it a working ranch. Or, we can immediately turn around and sell it and make eighty or ninety percent profit.”

Deering was
leaning forward too, stroking his chin. His eyes told Stewart the man was almost hooked.

“All that sounds good,”
said Deering, “but why do you need me?  If you have the money coming from back East, you can just invest it yourself.”

“That
’s true,” said Stewart. “I could wait for that money, and everything would probably work out, but I’m not quite sure when the money will arrive, and I feel the need to move on this right away. These people are ready to sell now. If we wait even as long as a few weeks, some of them could change their minds or someone else could come along and beat us out of a fortune. What I need from you is a loan from the bank, and if you would like to invest some of your own money that’s fine too. Let me borrow the money now and I will replace it with my own money as soon as it gets here. And I’ll make you a quarter partner in the venture.”

“How much money
are we talking about?” asked Deering.

“Fifty thousand dollars.”

Deering straightened and leaned back slightly. “That’s a lot of money, Tom, I don’t . . .”

“Yes, it is, but when you
’re making ninety percent profit, the more money you invest, the better.”

“That
’s true, I just . . .”

  “Willard, this is a sure-fire thing. There
’s no way to lose. We’d be fools if we let this opportunity pass. Give me thirty thousand dollars; I can probably pull it off with that. I’ll pay the bank back with interest and a nice bonus for you, and I’ll make you a third partner in the venture, but I don’t have time for a lot of paperwork and waiting for approval. You need to decide here and now. You’ll never have another opportunity like this in your life.”

Deering
’s inner struggle showed in his eyes. This was a small bank, unaccustomed to making large loans. But the thought of making a lot of money quickly and without work had tremendous appeal to him. Finally he drew a deep breath and exhaled hard.

“Alright, Tom; I
’ll loan you twenty five thousand dollars; you pay back thirty thousand in a month, plus my bonus: say . . . another five thousand, and I’m half partner in the investments.”

Stewart
frowned. “Those are pretty stiff terms, Willard. He acted pensive for a moment, then smiled. “Well, I wouldn’t be taking you on as a partner if you weren’t a shrewd businessman.” He extended his hand and said, “Done!”

As they shook hands, Stewart said,
“Willard, I promise you won’t be sorry.”

“Don
’t let me down, Tom. I’m risking everything here. When the bank examiner comes, that money will either have to be in the bank or I’ll have to account for it.”

Stewart left the bank with a satisfied smirk on his face and twenty five thousand dollars in his pocke
t. He had hoped for more, but expected less. There was no money coming from the East; he had nothing back there but enemies and arrest warrants issued in his real name, Ross Stockwell. This was not to say that Stewart had no money; he had a large amount of cash from the sale of stolen cattle resting in the safe at the ranch. But that was money he would not invest or use in any way unless he had to. And as long as there were Deerings in the world he didn’t believe he would have to. Nor did he have any intention of making Deering a partner in his land deals up north, but Deering would have no one to complain to. The loan had not been recorded. Deering would have no proof and no collateral. Stewart was, in essence, discarding Deering now that the banker’s usefulness to him had ended. He would take everything he could and leave Deering to deal with the consequences alone. That was his way.

After he had taken all the land it was possible for
him to take here on this range, he would hire a manager to run the ranch and a crew of real cowboys to work it; men who would not be held accountable by the community for the sins of the owner of the ranch they worked. He would then go north. He would round up every head of cattle that could be rounded up in the valley and send them south to the T.S., where there was plenty of range land to support them.

Tann
att and Marcellin and all the other ranchers in that northern valley would go broke and there would be no cattle industry left up there. The ranchers would be gone and the town would die. Most of the people would leave, and when they were gone he would restock the range, and the whole valley would be one huge ranch—his ranch. He would own the town too.

A
nd he would live there with his daughter.

Tige McDaniel was bone weary and hungry when he finally rode
into the deserted yard of the T.S. He dismounted in front of the house and pulled the saddle and bridle off the horse, letting them lay where they fell. The horse turned and headed purposefully to the nearest spot of grass, as hungry and tired as his rider. Tige walked up the steps and opened the door without knocking.

Maria, the housekeeper, hearing the noise
, came out to see who had arrived. She recognized McDaniel, but was shocked by his appearance and by the fact he had brazenly entered the house. With the exception of Fogarty, Stewart never allowed any of the men to cross his threshold. This man was gaunt, dust-covered, and oily with sweat. A filthy, blood-stained bandanna was tied around his left arm and there was a wild look in his eyes that made her afraid of him.

“Where
’s Stewart?” McDaniel demanded.

“Gone to town,
Señor.”

“Where
’s Fogarty?”

“Gone
too, Señor.”

“Where
’s anybody?”

Maria related in broken English that Fogarty and all but one of the men were off tendi
ng to the business of the ranch because they were the only ones left to do it. Stewart had been determined that this drive would be the biggest ever. He wanted to bleed the valley ranchers dry—especially Jim Marcellin. It was his intention to force them all to sell to him sooner rather than later, and in order to accomplish this objective, he had sent most of his men north.

There was a noise at the front door. McDaniel wheeled around,
then relaxed: it was old Virgil Mackey who had been assigned to a new post in the cook shack, temporarily replacing the cook who had gone north with the bulk of the men. Without turning back around to face Maria, McDaniel said, “I need to eat.”

T
errified of this wild-eyed man, Maria hurried back into the kitchen and began preparing food. Meanwhile, McDaniel eased himself into a leather chair which faced the door, and laid his head back. Virgil, surprised to see McDaniel, regarded the man for a moment. “What happened to you?” he finally asked.

“What happened to me?”
McDaniel laughed ironically, “Nothin’ happened to me, I just got a flesh wound in the arm. All the rest of ‘em are dead.

Virgil
’s mouth fell open. “What?”

“They
’re dead, every man jack of ‘em, I’m sure of it—either shot or hanged. They were waiting for us up there—they ambushed us. We tried to fight it out but they had us boxed in. Me and Nolan made a run for it. He got shot in the hip and died yesterday on the trail. Right after we got out, the gunfire died out, so I figure the rest of the boys, them that weren’t shot, must’ve give up. Knowing those ranchers up there, they hung ‘em on the spot; I can guarantee it.”

“
Then they know about the pass,” said Virgil in astonishment.

McDaniel didn
’t answer. He saw no need for it.

“Lester got shot too,” Virgil said
. “Havens killed him, and he got Luke in the arm.” Virgil moved across the room and found a chair of his own, both men indulging in the unaccustomed luxuries of being inside the house and sitting on upholstered furniture. 

McDaniel assimilated this information for a moment.
“So Havens is back. Where’s Stewart?”

“In town.”

“When’ll he be back?”

“Not for a few hours.”

“How about Fogarty, when will he be back?”

“Who knows, he never says. I think they were goin
’ up to Muddy Springs, which means they won’t be back until late.”

“I
’m leavin’,” said McDaniel quietly.

Virgil st
ared at him blankly as if unable to comprehend the full extent of the disaster that had overtaken them.

McDaniel gave a laugh, devoid of humor. “They made us big promises. We were all going to get rich off this deal. Well, I
’m leavin’, but I’m not leavin’ empty-handed. You told me once you knew how to blow a safe.”

“Well, I . . .”

“Blow Stewart’s.”

“What?” Virgil was incredulous
. “Fogarty would kill us.”

“Fogarty won
’t catch us. We’ll have a day’s head start on him.”

“I don
’t have the right tools or explosives.”

McDaniel leaned his head back and swore, but there was no force behind his oath. It was as if he was accustomed to accepting defeat. After a few minutes he said, “Let
’s try it anyway. You don’t need tools if you got enough dynamite. Just blow the safe; we’ll take whatever we can gather up. Let’s do it fast before Stewart comes back.”

When Maria brought McDaniel
’s food, he wolfed it down, afterwards going into the kitchen where she was cleaning up. “I want you and your daughter out of here.”

She looked at him, unbelieving.

“Now!”

Maria shook her head. “Mr. Stewart will be angry.”

McDaniel pointed to the door and said, “You go now or I’ll be angry.”  He stepped toward her and she backed away. 

Within five minutes, Maria and her daughter were walking briskly away from the house, carrying their few belongings in flour sacks. McDaniel
’s final instruction to them had been: “Don’t come back until dark.” But the two women had no intention of coming back ever. They had long desired to leave but had been afraid to do so. Now they were more afraid to stay.