the Man from the Broken Hills (1975) (9 page)

Tory Benton bid two dollars.

Tory was young, good-looking in a kind of a flashy, shallow sort of way, and he was tough. I knew a little about him. He'd stolen a few head of stock here and there, had carried a gun in a couple of cattle wars. He wanted to be considered a bad man, but was nowhere nearly as tough as Ingerman, for example. That girl was nowhere and no way the type who should be with him, and being alone, he'd surely want to take her home. And there was nobody to tell him no. And she knew it.

"Two-fifty," I said, casually.

Fuentes had drifted away, now he started back toward me, stopping a few feet away.

Tory had had a few drinks, but I was not sure if it was that, or if he really wanted the girl, or whether it was a deliberate matter of policy by Balch and Saddler, who were watching.

"Three dollars!" Tory said instantly.

"Three-fifty," I replied.

Tory laughed and said "Four dollars!"

The room was silent. Suddenly everybody knew something was happening. The girl's face was white and strained. Whoever she was, wherever she came from, she was no fool. She knew what was happening, and she could see it meant trouble.

"Five dollars," I said, and saw Danny Rolf turn away from the girl he was with and face toward the front of the room.

Tory laughed suddenly. He glanced right and left. "Let's get this over with," he said loudly. "Tendollars!"

Even at forty dollars a month fighting wages, that was a strong bid, and he had no idea it would go any further.

"Fifteen dollars," I said quietly.

Tory's face tightened and for the first time he glanced at me. He was a little scared. I did not know how much money he had, but doubted whether he had more than that in his pocket, at least not much more.

"Sixteen dollars!" he said, but from his manner I figured he had about reached the end of it.

Suddenly from behind me there was a whisper. It was Ben Roper. "I got ten bucks you can have."

Keeping my manner as casual as possible, I said, "Seventeen."

Roger Balch pushed through the crowd behind Tory, and I saw him taking some coins from his pocket. He whispered something to Benton and Tory put a hand back for money.

He glanced quickly at what was in his hand. "Twenty dollars!" he said triumphantly.

"Twenty-one," I replied.

For a moment there was silence. The auctioneer cleared his throat. He looked hot and worried. He glanced at Roger Balch, then at me.

"Twenty-two," Tory said, but with less assurance. Roger had his feet apart staring at me. I suppose he was trying to bluff me.

"Twenty-three," I said casually. Deliberately, I put my hand in my pocket and took out several gold pieces. I wanted them to realize they were going to have to spend to win. At least, I'd know how badly they wanted to win, or if it was just an attempt to assert themselves.

Tory saw the gold pieces. They were twenty-dollar pieces and I had a handful of them. What I held in my hand was a good year's pay for a cowhand, and they could see it.

"Twenty-three dollars has been bid!Twenty-three ! Twenty-three once! Twenty-three twice! Twenty-three three times!"

He paused, but Roger Balch was turning away and Tory was just standing there.

"Going ... going ...gone ! Sold to the gentleman from Stirrup-Iron!"

The big groups broke up and scattered around the room, gathering into smaller groups. I crossed to the auctioneer to get my box.

Tory Benton was staring hard at me. "I'd like to know where you got all that money," he said belligerently.

I took the box with my left hand, smiling at him. "I worked for it, Tory. I worked hard."

With the box in hand, I crossed to the girl in the gingham dress. "This is yours, isn't it?"

"Yes." She looked up at me. "Why did you do that? All that money?"

"I wanted your box," I said.

"You don't even know me."

"I know you a little ... And I know a good deal about Tory Benton, and I know you came alone."

"Thank you." We found a bench corner and sat down together. "I shouldn't have come," she said then, "but ... but I was lonely! I can't stay much longer."

"We'll eat then," I said, "and I'll ride you home." She was genuinely frightened. "Oh, no! You mustn't! I can't let you do that!"

"Are you married?"

She looked startled. "Oh, no! But I justcan't ! You must understand."

"All right ... part way, then? Just to be sure you're safely on the way?"

"All right." She was reluctant.

"I've told you my name. Milo Talon."

"Mine is Clarisa ... call me Lisa." She mentioned no other name and I didn't insist. If she did not tell me, she had her own reasons.

Her box dinner was simple, but good. There were some doughnuts that were about as good as any I'd ever eaten, and Ma made the best, yet my eyes kept straying across the room to where Ann Timberly sat.

Fuentes crossed to me with Ben Roper. I introduced them, and Fuentes said, "I think we ride together tonight,si? "

"I've got to ride along with Lisa," I said, "but only partway."

"We'll follow," Ben said, "an' you watch your step. Roger Balch didn't like his man bein' beat. He just didn't want to spend that much to win."

They drifted off a ways, and after a bit Danny Rolf joined them. The Balch and Saddler riders were bunching a little, too.

Dancing started again, and I danced with Lisa, then left her talking to Ben and crossed the room to Ann. She turned as I came up and was about to refuse my suggestion of a dance when she suddenly changed her mind.

She danced beautifully, and I did all right. I'd danced more in better places than most cowhands have a chance to, and I could get around pretty good out there, even without a horse. Mostly cowhands don't dance too well, but they don't mind and neither do the girls. The cowhands can always hold the girl while she dances.

Everybody was having a good time. I kept my eyes open, but nowhere did I see a badge. If there was law anywhere about, it wasn't at this dance, which was something to remember.

"Who is she?" Ann asked suddenly.

"Lisa? She's a nice girl."

"Have you known her long?"

"Never saw her before."

"Well! She evidently makes quite an impression!"

"She didn't cuss me out," I said.

Ann looked up at me suddenly. "I am sorry about that. But you made me very angry!"

"So I figured. And when you get angry, you really get angry."

"That was mean, what you did."

"What?"

"Bidding a quarter for my box. That was just awful."

I grinned at her. "You had it coming."

"That girl ... Lisa. How did you know which box was hers?"

"Saw her bring it in, and then when they were putting it up for bidding, she started to leave. She was afraid nobody would bid on it. I could see she was scared and embarrassed."

"So you bid on it?"

"Why not? You've got lots of friends. So has China."

"Oh ... China. She's the most popular girl around here. All the boys want her box, and most of the older men, too. I don't see what they see in her."

"You do, too," I said, grinning at her, "and so do I. She's got a lot of everything, and she's got it where it matters." Suddenly I wondered. I had been so preoccupied with the bidding and the conversation that followed.

"The man who got your box," I said, "was the lucky one."

She ignored that, then commented, "Roger Balch usually gets what he wants." Then she added, with a touch of bitterness. "Nobody was bidding against him ... at least, not for long."

"You cuss at people. How can you expect them to."

"I wouldn't want you to bid against him," she said seriously. "He's very mean and vengeful. If you won over him he would hate you."

"I've been hated before."

Suddenly, I thought of Lisa. She would be wanting to go, and she would be very apt to go alone. Fortunately, the music stopped and at that moment Fuentes was at my elbow. "If you want Tory Benton to take that girl home, say so."

"I don't," I said. Then I said to Ann. "Maybe we'll be riding the same country again. And anyway, wherever I ride, I'll be looking for you."

"She went out," said Fuentes. "Tory followed."

She was tightening her cinch and Tory was standing by, leaning against a post. What he had been saying, I did not know. But as I walked up, he straightened.

"Just wait a minute," I said to her. "I'll get my horse."

"You don't need to bother," Benton said. "I was just telling the lady. I am taking her home."

"Sorry," I smiled. "I bought the box, don't you remember?"

"I remember, but that was inside. We were inside then. This here's different."

"Is it?"

There was a faint stir in the shadows nearby. My friends or his? Or bystanders?

"You got to go through me to take her," Benton said belligerently.

"Of course," I said, and knocked him down.

He wasn't ready for it. He wasn't ready for that at all. He might have been trying to pick a fight, or maybe just running a bluff, but I'd long ago discovered that waiting on the other man could get you hurt.

My hand had been up, sort of adjusting my tie, so I just took a short step to the left and forward and threw my right from where it was. The distance was short. He had no chance to react. He hit the ground hard.

"Better get up in the saddle, Lisa. I'd help you but I'd rather not turn my back."

Benton sat up slowly, shaking his head. It took a moment for him to realize what had happened to him. Then he got up quickly, staggered a little, still feeling the effects of the blow.

"I'll kill you for that!" he said hoarsely.

"Please don't try. If you go for a gun, I'll beat you to it, and if you shoot, I'll shoot straighter."

"Does that go for me, too?" It was Ingerman.

"If you ask anybody from the Roost to the Hole, Ingerman, they'll tell you I'm always ready."

He had been poised and ready, but now there was a sudden stillness in him. From Robber's Roost to the Hole-in-the-Wall, Brown's Hole or Jackson's Hole ... all hideouts on the Outlaw Trail. Not many here knew what I had said, but Ingerman did, and suddenly he was wary ... Who was I?

Yet there was still a need to keep him from losing face.

"We've nothing to fight about, Ingerman. Maybe the time will come, but not here, not about this."

Ingerman was no crazy, wild-eyed kid with a gun. He was ice-cold. He was a money fighter, and there was no money in this. And from the way I spoke, I was trouble. Nobody had told him to kill me ... not so far.

"Just wanted to know where we stood," he said quietly. "Don't push your luck."

"I'm a careful man, Ingerman. Tory, here, was about to get himself hurt. I was trying to keep him from it."

There was a crowd around now, and two of them were Danny Rolf and Fuentes. Just the other side of Ingerman was Ben Roper.

"Mount up, Talon," he said. "We're all goin' home."

Ingerman heard the voice behind him, and he knew Ben Roper by sight and instinct. He turned away, and Tory Benton followed.

Chapter
9

The night was cool and clear, there were many stars, and the wind whispered in the sagebrush. We started riding, and I had no idea where we were going.

At first we did not talk. Behind us Ben Roper, Fuentes and Danny Rolf were riding, and I wished to listen. Nor did Lisa wish to talk, so we rode to the soft sound of our horses' hoofs, the creak of our saddles and the occasional jingle of a spur.

When we had several miles behind us, I left Lisa for a moment and rode back to the others. "This may be a long ride. No use for you boys to follow on."

"Who is she, Milo?" Ben asked.

"She hasn't told me. She came alone, and I somehow don't think her people knew she was gone ... I don't understand the situation."

We were talking low, and Lisa, some distance off, could not overhear us.

"You watch your step," Danny warned. "It don't sound right to me."

When they took off and I rode back to her, we started on without comment. The country was growing increasingly rugged, with many patches of timber and brush that grew thicker as we rode.

"You came a long way," I commented, at last.

The trail, only a vague one, seldom used, dipped down into a narrow draw that led to a creek bottom sheltered by giant oaks and pecans. At a stream, Lisa drew up to let her horse drink.

"You have come far enough. I want to thank you very much both for riding with me and for buying my box. And I hope there is no trouble with that man."

"There would be trouble anyway. He rides for Balch and Saddler."

"And you for Stirrup-Iron?"

"Yes."