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Authors: Louis - Sackett's 09 L'amour

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BOOK: Sackett (1961)
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After an hour I toted my book back to camp and, rounding up a pick and shovel, headed for the creek.

Cap had sunk a shaft to bedrock and started a cleanup. Going down into the shaft I widened it out a mite and got out some gravel. At the edge of the stream I went to work with the pan, filling it with gravel, dipping it into the water, and starting the water swirling to wash the sand over the edge. I found color, but not much.

Several times I walked to the edge of the woods. Noon came and I could see no sign of work around the town, so evidently they were drinking and talking. Cap was breathing easier, and Ange was feeding him when I came into camp, but she paid me no mind and I sat down to eat what there was.

If they made an all-out attack on us, we might be able to hold them off, but if we had to get out of there our only chance was up the mountain, and with a sick man on our hands we weren't likely to get far.

Taking an axe, I went out to check our defenses. I added a few logs, and rooted out some brush here and there to give us a better field of fire.

Joe Rugger was worried, I could see that, but there was no rabbit in him. He had come in with us and he planned to stick.

"What led you to throw in with us, Joe?" I asked him.

"Drifted in here with the wrong crowd before I measured them for calibre. Seemed to me you and Rountree were more my type. Fact was, I figured to try leasing that store from you. Back in Ohio I operated a small store for another man, but it seemed to me I'd get nowhere working for the other fellow, so I quit. I've done some mining, but a store is what I always wanted."

"Joe, you've just bought yourself a lease. Cap and me, we want to build a town that shapes up to something, and we would be proud to lease that store to you."

Thanks, Tell."

It made a body restless, wondering what they were cooking up down there in town. Same time, I never was one to keep a serious view of things. Time to time folks get the idea I'm slighting my problems because ofttimes they strike me as funny. Now I kept thinking of all those men down there, arguing and drinking and drinking and arguing, and working up a nerve to come after us. It struck me, a man might sort of wander down there of a nighttime and have himself some fun.

Rousting around in our gear I found about a hundred feet of rope Cap had packed along, on account of rope is always handy. Joe had some more, and I knotted the two together and went inside and got my field glasses and studied that town.

There were four tents--one large, like the saloon

tents at the end of the tracks in railroad towns, and the others small. A couple of horses were saddled, with packs behind the saddles . . . some men were in the street.

Something about it bothered me. If there actually were forty men around the town, where were they?

I took my Winchester and scouted around the edge of the trees, studying the bench, searching every possible approach. It scarcely seemed likely that they would try another attack with me here, when Cap and Joe had driven them off alone. But they might

Thinking of it worried me, with Ange Kerry at the camp, and Cap Rountree a sick man. Looked to me like I was going to have to go after them, after all.

Come evening time, Joe Rugger came out to Stand watch, and I went into camp for grub. Cap was conscious and he looked up at me. "You've got it all on your hands, Tell. I'll be no help to you."

"You've been a help." I squatted on my heels beside his pallet, nursing a cup of coffee in my hands. "Cap, I'm going to take it to them tonight." "You be careful."

"Else they'll come a-hunting. We can't have them shooting around with Ange here, and you laid up." "That's a fine girl."

"You should see that country up yonder. Blessed if I can see how she made it ... months up there, all alone."

I could see Cap was done up. He would need time and plenty of good food to get his strength back... it was lucky Ange was there.

She came in, bringing a cup of soup for Cap, but she kept her eyes away from me. What did she expect me to do? Stand still and get shot? Sure, I got the jump, but Kitch had warning. And when he came out of the trees like that he wasn't looking to play patty-cake.

She was mighty pretty. A little thing, slim and lovely. Though the only clothes she had were wore-out things, and she was not likely to have better until one of us could cut loose for Silverton or Del Norte.

Her face had taken on some color, and she had combed out that hair of hers and done it up like some of those fancy pictures I'd seen in Godey's Lady's Book. I declare, she was pretty!

"See you," I said, and stood up. "You take care."

There was a moment there I thought of talking with her, but what could I say? Seemed to me she didn't want any words from me, and I went away feeling mighty miserable inside. Walking out to the edge of the trees, I stood looking toward the two or three lights and thinking what a fool a man could be.

What was she, after all? Just a slim girl with a lot of red-gold hair... nothing to get upset about.

The humor of what I'd been thinking of doing there in town went out of me. I looked at that town and felt like walking over there and shooting it out.

Only there was no sure way I could win if I did that, and I had to win. Joe was a solid man, but he was no gunfighter. First time in my life I wished I could look up and see Tyrel coming down the pike.

Only Tyrel was miles away and days away, and whatever happened now was up to me. Anyway, it never does a man much good to be thinking of what he could do if he had help . . . better spend his time figuring a way of doing it himself.

Gathering up that rope, I taken it to my horse and saddled up.

"Joe," I said, "yon be careful. They may come a-winging it over this way. If they do, and if I'm able, I'll come a-smoking, but you stand 'em off until I get here."

Ange was standing with the fire behind her and I couldn't see her face. Only when I rode out, I lifted a hand. "See you," I said, and let the palouse soft-foot if off the bench and into the stream bed.

It was cool, with no wind. The clouds were low, making it especial dark. There was a smell of pine woods in the air, and a smell of wood smoke and of cooking, too.

Nigh the town site I drew up and got down, tying the appaloosa to some willows in the stream bed. I put my hand on his shoulder. "Now you stand steady, boy. I won't be gone long."

But I wondered if that was truth or not.

Maybe it would be just as well if I was to get the worst of them. That Ange, now--she had no use for me, and sure as shooting I was getting a case on her.

Not that it was likely she could ever see me. Girl that pretty had her choice of men. Nobody ever said much about me being good-looking--except Ma--and even Ma, with the best intentions in the world, looked kind of doubtful when she said it.

I didn't shape up to much except for size. Only thing I could do better than anybody else I knew was read sign ... and maybe shoot as good as most. Otherwise, all I had was a strong back.

That Blackstone, now. I'd been worrying that book like a dog worries a bone, trying to get at the marrow of it, but it was a thing took time. Days now I'd been at it, off and on, and everything took a sight of thinking out.

He said a lot of things that made a man study, although at the wind-up they made a lot of sense. If I could learn to read ... I would never get to be a lawyer like Orrin there, but...

This was no time for dreaming. Pa, he always advised taking time for contemplating, but this was the wrong time.

Taking that rope and my Winchester, I edged in close. Working soft on moccasin feet, I ran my rope through the guy ropes of that big tent, up behind about four guy ropes, and then a loop clean around one of the smaller tents and around the guy ropes of another. Then I walked back to my horse and loosed him, mounting up and taking a dally around the pommel with the loose end.

Everything at the town seemed mighty peaceful.

Inside I could hear folks a-cutting up some touches, the clatter of glasses and poker chips. Seemed almost a shame to worry them.

Walking my horse alongside the building, I stood up on the saddle and pulled myself to the roof. I slid out of my shirt, and shoved it into the chimney. Then I stepped back to the eaves and, about time I touched saddle, all hell broke loose inside. The room had started to fill up with wood smoke and I heard folks a-swearing something awful and coughing.

Turning my horse, I taken a good hold on that rope, let out a wild Comanche yell, and slapped spurs to that palouse.

Those spurs surprised him. He taken out like a scared rabbit. Ripping down those guy ropes and collapsing the other tents, I lit out. When I'd done what I could that way, I rode back through between the tents at a dead run. As I came through, a gang of men rushed up and caught themselves in a loop of rope.

It tumbled the lot of them, and dragged some. I let go the rope and, leaning from the saddle, I wrenched loose a length of tent stake. I rode up on that bunch and rapped a skull here and there.

A man on the stoop of the store building grabbed his pistol. I tossed that stake at his face and said, "Catch!"

He jumped back, fell over the last step and half inside the door.

Riding by, I drew up in the shadow. I'd sure enough played hob. Two small tents had collapsed and folks were struggling under them. The big tent was leaning away over. There was a lot of shouting, and somebody yelled, "No, you don't! Drop that money!" A shot was fired.

I remembered Pa's advice then, and taken time to contemplate. Setting my horse there in the shadows, I watched that mess-up and enjoyed it.

There was swelling under those tents, everybody arguing and swearing. Nobody was making any kind of sense.

One tent flattened down as the men struggled from under it. I decided they needed light, so I taken a flaming stick from the outside fire and tossed it at that flattened-out tent.

Somebody saw me and yelled. I turned sharp and trotted my horse away just as he let go with a shotgun. Then that tent burst into flame and I had to move back further.

They wanted to settle on my town site without paying, did they? They wanted to shoot up my camp?

I happened to notice their corral on the edge of the wash. A couple of saddles, a rope . . . Shaking out a loop, I caught a comer post of the corral with my rope and rode off, pulling it down. Horses streamed by me.

Surely does beat all what a man can do when he sets his mind to being destructive.

One leg hooked around my saddlehorn, I spoke gentle to my horse to warn him of trouble to come, and then I turned my head to the sky.

"When I walked out on the streets of Laredo, when I--"

A bullet cut wind near me, and I taken off. Seemed like nobody liked my singing.

Chapter
XI

"There was a faint lemon color edging the gray of the clouds when trolled out of my blankets. Joe Rugger had teased the fire into flame and put water on for coffee. Sticking my feet into my boots, stomped them into place and slung my gun belt around my hips. Expecting trouble, that was all I had taken off, except for my vest. I put on my vest and tucked another gun behind toy belt and then walked out to the edge of the woods. Oh, sure, I had my hat on--first thing a cow-boy does when he crawls out of bed in the morning is to put his hat on.

Looked to me like somebody was leaving over yonder.

Ange was up, her hair combed as pretty as might be, and sunlight catching the gold of it through a rift in the clouds. She brought me a cup of coffee.

"I suppose you're satisfied with what you've done," she said. Thank you, ma'am. . . . Satisfied? Well, now. Takes a lot to satisfy a man, takes a lot to please him if he's any account. But what I did, I did well ... yes, ma'am, I'm pleased."

"I thought you were a good man."

"Glad to hear you say so. It's an appearance I favor. Not that I've ever been sure what it was made a good man. Mostly I'd say a good man is one you can rely on, one who does his job and stands by what he believes."

"Do you believe in killing people?"

"No, ma'am, not as a practice. Trouble is, if a body gets trouble out here he can't call the sheriff . . . there isn't any sheriff. He can't have his case judged by the law, because there aren't any judges. He can't appeal to anybody or anything except his own sense of what's just and right.

"There's folks around believe they can do anything they're big enough to do, no matter how it tromples on other folks' rights. That I don't favor.

"Some people you can arbitrate with . . . you can reason a thing out and settle it fair and square. There's others will understand nothing but force.

"Joe Rugger now, there's a good man. Cap Rountree is another. They are trying to build something. Those others, they figure to profit by what other people do, and I don't aim to stand by in silence."

"You have no authority for such actions."

"Yes, ma'am, I do. The ideas I have are principles that men have had for many a year. I've been reading about that. When a man enters into society --that's living with other folks--he agrees to abide by the rules of that society, and when he crosses those rules he becomes liable to judgment, and if he continues to cross them, then he becomes an outlaw.

BOOK: Sackett (1961)
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