the High Graders (1965) (12 page)

Shevlin looked toward the other occupied bunk.

Deek Taylor, a lean, lantern-jawed ma n with hard eyes, was there and he was looking a t Shevlin with no pleasure.

"I'm talking to him," Shevlin said, jerking a thumb at Mason. "Are you in this or out of it?"

"Well, now, that depends."

"Not a damn bit, it doesn't. You spea k up now. If you're in it, you can have a bell y full. If you're out of it, you keep your tra p shut and lie quiet and you won't get hurt."

"Hurt?" Taylor swung his legs to th e floor. "Well, now--wa s As his feet hit the floor, Mike Shevli n grabbed the front of his long-johns and jerked hi m up out of the bunk. As he jerked, he swung a rock-hard fist. Taylor tried to straighte n up, he tried to turn, but the fist smashed him o n the jaw, and again in the face, then jerked him bac k to meet the punches. A hard slug in the bell y pushed him into a corner.

"If you're smart," Shevlin said, "you'l l lie quiet and hope I forget about you."

He turned toward Mason. The gambler wa s staring, white-faced, and wide awake now.

"Say, who the hell--his" And then Shevlin'
s face was in the light, and for the first time Mason sa w who the visitor was.

"Mike! Mike Shevlin!"

"Sure." Mike dropped on the edge o f Taylor's bunk, glancing once toward the ma n with the bloody face who lay sprawled in th e corner. "You should have known I'd be back , Mase. Now you tell me: Who killed El i Patterson?"

Mason had picked up the stub of a cigar an d he tried to strike a match to it, but the matc h broke. He tried again, his hand shaking. Maso n had never been a brave man.

"Now, Mike, you know I--wa s "Mase," Shevlin said quietly, "you sa w what just happened to Taylor. I'd have to work yo u over a damn' sight worse, and I haven'
t got time. Tell me who killed Eli, and then yo u can ride."

He struck a match and held it to Mason'
s cigar.

"Gentry," Mason began, "he--."

"Gentry took the blame, and he lied. No w you tell me who he lied for. You tell me , Mase, and you've got a running start." H
e gestured toward the street. "You got any ide a what's going on out there tonight?" he went on.

"Hollister's back. He's got the ranchers wit h him. They'll come in and they'll get hell shot ou t of them, but Stowe will get hurt, too. The n Hoyt and me, we'll pick up the pieces."

He wished it would be that easy. Ra y Hollister's timing was always bad, and it would be thi s time too. And Hoyt might not make up his min d fast enough, which would leave somebody in the middl e holding a handful of deuces.

And that somebody would be Mike Shevlin.

Chapter
9

Mason hesitated, his lips trembling. H
e remembered Mike Shevlin, but this was a differen t man from the one he had known. This Mike Shevli n was bigger, stronger, tougher. He was a man o f decision, and Mason had just had an objec t lesson in that. What Taylor might have done ha d he gotten into action was not the question, for he had bee n put out of action swiftly and efficiently. An d Mason was no Deek Taylor.

He thought of his horse. It was close by, i n the stable only a few yards back of the house. Th e pickings had been good, and he had been wise enoug h to keep his take cached near the town, for he ha d always known there would be a time for running, just as ther e always had been before this. And the time had come now.

Only he had been a long time in Rafter, an d he wanted to stay. They had protected him her e because he had protected them.

"Mike," he protested, "you got to believ e this. I don't know."

"Don't give me that."

"Honest to God, Mike! They needed a witness, and I was paid to swear that Gentry di d it."

"Who paid you?"

"Mike, you aren't going to believe this, but it wa s Gib. It was Gentry himself."

Shevlin glanced over at Taylor. The ma n was moaning, and was clutching what was apparently a broken jaw. Mike's eyes returne d to Mason.

"So?"

"That's all I know--I swear it, Mike!

Gentry paid me."

"And you've no idea?"

Mason hesitated, and then he shrugged.

"Mike, I swear that's all I know."

"Ben didn't do it?"

"No, not Ben. At least, I don't think i t was Ben. Not that he'd hesitate. Gentr y didn't do it either. Gentry was close to Ben, s o there for a while I figured ...

"But the last thing they wanted was any kind of a n investigation. They wanted the whole thing cleare d up, whitewashed and off the boards. Figure it fo r yourself, if somebody came in and started asking questions , somebody might slip up and the whole shooting matc h would go down the drain.

"That there Ben--I never knew he had it i n him. He worked almighty fast, and you never sa w things handled like that."

Mason's confidence was returning. "Mike , what's going to happen? You say Hollister'
s back and about to blow things up? Well, who take s over when the shooting's finished?"

He started to get up. "Mike, why not you an d me? I know how these things work, and--wa s Shevlin looked at him coldly. "How much d o you know? You haven't told me anything yet."

He paused. "Where's the gold?"

Mason glanced at him slyly. "Now, there'
s a good question. Where is the gold? There hasn'
t been an ounce leave this town, you can bank o n that."

Mike Shevlin was listening beyond the house, hi s ears attuned to street movement. Was tonight th e night?

"If you know anything, talk." Shevlin spok e shortly. He was wasting his time here. Hell migh t break loose at any moment.

"How about our deal?" Mason persisted. "Ho w about--wa s "No deal. You talk now, or by God , I'll--wa s He grabbed Mason by the shirt front an d jerked him to his feet. Then he shoved him agains t the wall near the door with force enough to shake th e house. He started for him, and Mason threw u p both hands.

"Don't hit me, for God's sake , Mike!"

"Then talk!"

"All I know is that part of it wasn't se t up by Ben. It was set up by Evans."

"Evans?"

Shevlin was startled. Evans was the shyste r lawyer with whom Ray Hollister had been a partner.

Evans?

He suddenly realized several things, all a t once. But there was a question to be answered. "Where i s Evans?" he asked. "What happened to him?"

Mason chuckled. "Now there is a question.

What did happen to him? Seems that about the tim e they ran Ray out of town, Evans went too.

Or so they say. Nobody saw him go, an d Evans wasn't the type to run."

There was no use wasting any more time here. Mik e Shevlin turned toward the door. "Mason , take my advice and get out of town. You're o n short time here--you delay a little bit and you'll b e caught right in the middle of it."

Shevlin went out and closed the door behind him.

The town was dark, and it was silent, but the silenc e was that of waiting. It was a silence that seeme d poised on the brink of evil.

Shevlin went to his horse and gathered th e reins. Yet he hesitated, taking stock of th e situation. There was Dr. Clagg--he would sta y home this night to protect his home and to protec t Laine, and he was a good man, a solid man.

...

Wilson Hoyt? There was no telling about him.

But Ben Stowe would be about, and Gentry, and Ra y Hollister.

His thoughts kept returning to Evans. He ha d known the shyster, as had everyone in Rafter. It wa s well known that he had a hand in all manner o f underhanded things, and he was supposed to have been engage d in smuggling. That didn't make a lot of sense , this far from any border, but it was the gossip.

Mason said that Evans had arranged the hidin g place for the gold ... did Mason know that, o r was he merely guessing?

Shevlin, his pistol easy in its holster , looked toward the livery stable. He liked that stabl e -coma man could go a lot of directions under cove r from there.

He walked down to the street and went across it , taking his own, unhurried time, but his scal p prickled with every step.

The chair beside the stable door was gone, but as h e passed under the light and went into the stable, Brazo s said, "Shevlin, you sure give a man th e willies. You could get yourself killed thataway."

"Maybe."

"Reminds me of a time down Texas way, th e night the lid blew off on th e Sutton-Taylor feud."

A little wind blew down the street fluttering a bit of white paper. A sign creaked rustily , and in one of the stalls a horse stamped and blew.

Standing in the darkness, just inside the door , Shevlin caught a faint glimmer of ligh t reflected from steel, steel that moved and rattle d very faintly. A rider sat his horse in the ga p between the buildings.

Swiftly, his eyes went up the street , measuring off the gaps. There could be eight or nin e riders waiting there.

Brazos had seen what he had seen, and h e spoke quickly. "No miners in town tonight, Mike.

Nary a one."

Shevlin absorbed that. Of course. Ben Stow e would hold them, armed and in readiness. There was n o longer a light in Stowe's office, nor in th e jail office. The only light was the lanter n burning over the door.

Mike Shevlin knew enough of Ben Stowe to kno w he would try to win with one strike, one decisiv e blow that would cripple the attacking force beyon d recovery. He would want a massacre.

It would end the opposition to him, and it would als o keep any stories from leaving the town. Prolonge d fighting would attract attention; but a quick, shar p fight--one that was soon over--could be brushed off i n the local papers as trouble with rustlers o r thieves.

Yet there were men on those horses who had onc e ridden beside Shevlin, good men, honest men, eve n though they were wrong-headed in this case. He ha d to stop them.

Ray Hollister would strike at Stowe'
s office for the records, and at the mine s themselves--first the Sun Strike, then the Glor y Hole. And Stowe would be waiting, his men armed , no doubt, with shotguns, and hidden all around th e collar of the shaft up there, around the mine office , the hoisthouse, and the blacksmith shop. They would b e hidden, with protection, and they would be shooting a t mounted men outlined against the faint light.

"I'm going across the street," Shevlin said.

"You'll get yourself killed."

"Only," a voice said behind them, "if h e tries to leave this stable." It was Babcock.

"Babcock," said Mike, "if you've go t any regard for your friends, you'd best get over ther e and stop them. Stowe's ready for them."

"You mean he
. W
as ready," Babcock said.

"This time we caught him off guard."

"Have you seen any miners around, Babcock?

If I was Ray Hollister I'd start lookin g at my hole card."

"Ray'll take care of himself."

"You bet he will. But where does that leave th e rest of you? You've pulled Ray out of more than on e mess his fool ideas got you into, so you'
d better move fast. If you start up to the mine s they'll cut you to doll rags."

"I don't reckon."

Down the street there was a faint shuffle o f movement, and Shevlin knew the sound, for he ha d often heard it at night out on a cattl e drive, or when he was bedded near the remuda.

Men on horses were moving about.

"You'd better stop them," he said again.

Babcock shifted his feet. "Ease up , now. Nothing and nobody is going to stop Ray thi s time. You're out of this, Shevlin, so keep out."

"For God's sake, man! Do you really thin k Ray Hollister is doing this for the cattlemen?

Who do you think brought Ben Stowe in in the firs t place?"

"He brought himself."

"Babcock, don't let loyalt y to Hollister kill your friends. You've always bee n loyal to him, but Ray never thought of anybody bu t himself. It was the firm of Hollister and Evan s who brought Ben Stowe in to head the gunmen who fough t the cattle outfits."

"That's a damned lie!" Babcock sai d hoarsely. "Now you shut your mouth!"

"I don't lie, and you know it. Holliste r brought Gentry in, too, along wit h Ben. You're here tonight, Babcock, to pull th e chestnuts out of the fire for Ray. He hope s to get rid of Stowe and get back in the saddl e himself."

Babcock's face was set in stubborn lines.

There was no arguing with the man, and in not many minute s it would be too late; but Mike Shevlin kne w better than to make a wrong move agains t Babcock now. The cowhand was tough and seasoned, an d wily as an old wolf. And that reminded Shevli n of Winkler. Where was the old wolfer, anyway?

The livery stable was dark and still. It was almost a s if all were serene. There was the smell of hay an d manure, the pleasant smell of horses and a horse barn. The light of the lantern glowe d feebly above the door.