Ten Guns from Texas Read online

  “How could Wang know? He was riding in the back.” O’Leary stood in his stirrups and looked ahead. “I’m the one that’s been up front and I don’t see anyone.”

  “If Wang says there are men up ahead of us, you better believe there is someone there waitin’ for us,” Elmer said.

  O’Leary gave in. “All right. Let’s say Wang is right. What do we do?”

  “Wang, you hold the cattle here. Elmer, would you be for coming with me now?”

  “Ha. You just try ’n hold me back.”

  “Mr. O’Leary, I’m inviting you as well, but if you’ve nae wish to join us, I’ll nae hold it against you.”

  “It’ll be my pleasure to ride with you.”

  While Wang, who was carrying neither pistol nor rifle, kept the cattle behind, Duff, Elmer, and O’Leary went ahead.

  “See anything?” Duff asked.

  “No, but I can feel it,” Elmer replied.

  Chapter Nine

  “What is it they’s a-doin’?” Weeper asked. “How come the cattle’s stopped back there?”

  “What are them three comin’ up like that for? You think maybe they know we’re here?” the Weeper asked.

  “There ain’t nobody been dumb enough to stick their head up so’s they can be seen, has there?” Jaco asked.

  “There ain’t no way they coulda saw none of us. Maybe they’re checkin’ to see if they can ford the creek here,” Dawkins suggested.

  “Well, hell. They know they can ford here. Maybe them others don’t, but O’Leary knows. He’s brought cows this way enough times before,” Jaco pointed out.

  “What if they get up here and see we’re a-waitin’ on ’em?” Moss raised the rifle to his shoulder. “I say let’s kill ’em now.”

  “No, wait. They’re out of range,” Jaco cautioned, but even as he was giving the warning, Moss fired his rifle.

  * * *

  They heard the sound of rifle fire and saw the bullet kick up dirt in front of them, but because of Wang’s warning, neither Duff nor Elmer were really all that surprised.

  “O’Leary, you go up that side!” Duff shouted, pointing to the left edge of the trail. “Elmer, you take the right!”

  The three men split up, then started advancing toward the rustlers, with Duff moving up the center.

  * * *

  Dawkins, Jaco, and the others were caught off guard. They had been sure that, with the benefit of surprise, they would have the superior situation. But the surprise was lost, and while they were locked into the position they had chosen for themselves, which was without cover and only minimum concealment, the three men advancing toward them had the advantage of maneuverability.

  “Shoot them!” Dawkins shouted. “Shoot them!”

  For the next sixty seconds the sound of gunfire echoed back from a nearby ridge and frightened birds flew from the trees. A cloud of noxious gun smoke rose formed over the area.

  Moss and the Weeper went down under the deadly accurate gunfire. What had started out a five-to-three advantage very quickly became a two-to-three disadvantage.

  “Let’s get out of here!” Jaco shouted as he ran toward his horse.

  “What about Moss ’n the others?” Dawkins shouted.

  “Leave ’em!” Jaco replied. “I expect they’re dead, ’n even if they ain’t, there’s nothin’ we can do about it.”

  * * *

  Duff saw the two remaining men ride off and gave a fleeting thought to going after them. He dismissed the thought almost as quickly as it was born, however, because he knew couldn’t leave the herd.

  He, Elmer, and O’Leary rode on up to where the bodies of three men lay on the ground and dismounted.

  Duff ascertained, rather quickly, that all three were dead. “Do you know any of these men?” he asked O’Leary as they stood over the three downed men.

  “That’s Walt Moss,” O’Leary said, pointing to one of the men. “He used to ride for the J Bar J, till Mr. Jenkins fired him. He never was worth a damn. If he hadn’t got hisself kilt here, he woulda more ’n like wound up gettin’ shot tryin’ to hold up a mercantile or somethin’.” He pointed to a second man. “’N that’s a fella ever’one calls the Weeper. I don’t have no idea what his real name is. Last I heard of him, he was in prison. I can’t tell you who this other feller is, on account of I ain’t never seen ’im before. Leastwise, not that I recollect.”

  “What are we goin’ to do with the bodies?” Elmer asked.

  “I’d say leave ’em here for the time being,” O’Leary suggested. “I’ll tell Mr. Bellefontaine about ’em, ’n he’ll more ’n likely send a wagon here to pick ’em up ’n carry ’em on back to town.”

  “Sounds like a solution to me,” Duff said. “Let’s get the cattle moving again and hope we aren’t visited by any more rustlers before we get there.”

  “We’re more ’n half way there now,” O’Leary said. “I can’t think of another place where any rustlers could set up an ambush for us. I’m damned ashamed I didn’t think about it before, this place bein’ ’bout the only place between Merrill Town and the ranch where such a thing could even be planned.”

  The three men rode back to rejoin the herd, and within five minutes they were under way again.

  Slash Bell Ranch

  By the time they reached the ranch the sun was high overhead, a brilliant white orb fixed in the bright blue sky in such a position as to take away all the spots of shade where the cattle would normally congregate. With the shade denied them, the cows had all moved down to mill about in and along the banks of Wahite Creek, the stream of water that made the Slash Bell a ranch instead of a stretch of barren desert. Some of the cows had come to water, while others were there just to be nearer the band of green grass that followed the stream on its zigzagging path across the otherwise brown floor of the valley.

  They were met by a group of riders.

  “Hello, Sam,” O’Leary said when the riders were close enough to speak. “Mr. MacCallister, this is Sam Post. He’s the foreman.”

  “Mr. Post,” Duff said with a nod.

  “Mr. Bellefontaine said you should ride on up to the house,” Post said. “Me ’n the boys will take the beeves on in.”

  “That’s very nice of you,” Duff said.

  “O’Leary, you can go, too. You can show ’em the way.”

  O’Leary nodded, then making a motion toward Duff and the others, led the three men on up to the house.

  The large, two-story house was painted white with a green tile roof. There were cupolas, dormer windows, and a covered porch that went all across the front.

  A gray-haired man came out to greet them.

  “Hello, Mr. Bellefontaine,” O’Leary said as they dismounted.

  “Hello, Tim. Which of these gentlemen would be Mr. MacCallister?”

  “That would be him,” Elmer said, pointing to Wang Chow.

  Bellefontaine’s eyes widened, and Duff laughed.

  “I’m afraid my friend is having a bit o’ fun with you, Mr. Bellefontaine. I’m Duff MacCallister. The jokester is Elmer Gleason, and this is Wang Chow.”

  Bellefontaine laughed as well and extended his hand, first to Duff, and then to the other two. “How was your trip down?”

  “We was set on by rustlers back at Cypress Creek,” O’Leary said.

  “Fence Busters?”

  “No, sir, I don’t think so. I think it was just rustlers. Walt Moss was one of ’em, ’n the Weeper was another ’n. Them two and one other of the rustlers got themselves kilt. I think they may have been two other ’n, but they got away afore I could see ’em close enough to see if I knowed either of ’em.”

  “What about the cattle?”

  “We didn’t lose nary a one of ’em,” O’Leary said proudly.

  “And you’re sure it wasn’t the Fence Busters?”

  “I’m not a hunnert percent sure, but I don’t think it was them,” O’Leary said. “I mean, as far as I know, neither Moss nor the Weeper was part of the Fence Busters.
’N none of ’em was wearin’ a blue kerchief.”

  Bellefontaine nodded. “Then you’re right. More ’n likely they weren’t Fence Busters. The bodies are still there, are they?”

  “Yes, sir, we left ’em there.”

  “All right. I’ll have Sam send two men and a wagon back to pick up the bodies and take them on into town.”

  “Yes, sir, I figured you would. I’ll tell Sam.” O’Leary turned to Duff. “Mr. MacCallister, it was sure nice meetin’ you boys.”

  Duff nodded as O’Leary left to attend to his task, then turned back to Bellefontaine. “Who or what are the Fence Busters?”

  “There is a company in New York called the New York and Texas Land Company,” Bellefontaine said. “They are making a lot of money by claiming and selling land that they say is public. More ’n likely the land is public, but a lot of ranchers are running their cattle on public land . . . something we’ve been doing from the time Texas belonged to Mexico. And, by a mutual understanding, we have been fencing off areas of public land so that our herds don’t get mixed together.

  “But now the New York and Texas Land Company has hired armed men to cut those fences. They call themselves Fence Busters.”

  “I can see how they come by their name,” Duff said.

  “It would be bad enough if all they did was cut fences. But I’m convinced they are also stealing cattle.”

  “You mean like those men tried today?”

  “No, that’s why I would have been surprised if the men you ran into today had been Fence Busters. Most of the cattle they steal come from those public land areas where they cut the fence. And of course, with the fences cut, the cattle tend to wander off, so there’s no real way of proving that they’re actually stealing the cattle.”

  “Have any of the cattle that wandered off ever returned or been found?” Duff asked.

  “No. ’N that’s why I’m sure that they’ve been stolen. Somewhere, I’m sure, the Fence Busters have a ranch full of stolen cattle. Either that, or they are in cahoots with a rancher who is holding the stolen cattle for them.”

  “Has there been no effort to deal with these men?” Duff asked.

  “Nothin’ we can really point to. A couple cattlemen hired some gunmen to go against the Fence Busters for cutting fences, but it didn’t work out.”

  “Let me guess. The Fence Busters furnished the gunmen themselves, didn’t they?” Duff said.

  “Well, yes. At least, that’s what I think, though I don’t believe I’ve been able to get a lot of people to agree with me. How did you know that?”

  “It just seems like a natural thing,” Duff replied. “This way they are making money from both sides of the issue. They are getting paid to cut fences, they are stealing cattle, and they are getting paid to furnish their own opposition.”

  “That’s it exactly,” Bellefontaine said. “I’ve told some of the other ranchers what is happening, but they are so insistent that something must be done to stop it that they don’t believe me.”

  “Obviously there is a law against cattle rustling,” Duff said. “Is there a law against cutting the fences?”

  “No, and that’s what’s giving them their cover. It’s legal to cut fences on public land, even if there are cattle there. But they’re also cuttin’ fences on private land owned by the cattlemen, and that is illegal. So far they’ve been getting away with it. We’ve tried to get Governor Ireland to make it a felony even to cut fences on public land, but we haven’t succeeded, and I’m not sure it would make that much difference even if the law was passed.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because the truth is, the Fence Busters are too many, too strong, and too well organized for any law. That means they can pretty much get away with doing anything they want, and there’s very little that we can do about it. I think that’s the reason John Ireland isn’t trying to get the law through. He thinks it would just be a waste of time.”

  “John Ireland?” Elmer said. “That wouldn’t be Colonel Ireland, would it?”

  “Colonel Ireland? Yes, I believe he was a colonel in the Confederacy. Why do you ask?”

  “If it’s the same Colonel John Ireland I’m thinkin’ about, I know him,” Elmer said. “We was good friends, once.”

  “You were a good friend of the governor?” Bellefontaine asked.

  “Well, he warn’t the governor when I know’d him.”

  “I’m . . . impressed,” Bellefontaine said.

  Duff chuckled. “Mr. Bellefontaine, I’ve been around Elmer Gleason for some time now. His experiences never cease to amaze me.”

  * * *

  Bellefontaine held an outdoor barbeque that evening, with long tables set up to accommodate all the cowboys on his ranch.

  “I’m running thirty-five thousand head of cattle, mostly Longhorns,” he said to Duff. “But I recently bought five hundred head of Herefords, and now the Black Angus. I intend to eventually get rid of all my Longhorns and start a herd of Herefords or Angus. I just haven’t made up my mind yet which it will be. That’s why I want to compare the two breeds.”

  “I’ll admit to being a wee prejudiced,” Duff said. “But ’tis sure I am that you’ll be for settling on the Angus.”

  “It could be,” Bellefontaine agreed. “I hate to see the Longhorn go, though. They are the hardiest animal you can imagine. They practically take care of themselves. But their beef doesn’t begin to compare with Hereford or Angus. And beef is what we raise cows for.”

  “If you have thirty-five thousand head of cattle, your ranch must be what? Seventy thousand acres?” Duff asked.

  “It’s about a hundred thousand acres, though forty thousand of it is fenced public land.”

  “Aye, you told me about using public land. And ’tis fenced, you say?”

  “Yes. We all do it, and it’s not a problem as long as we keep the water open. That is, it wasn’t a problem until the Fence Busters began cutting the fences.”

  “And rustlin’ cows,” Post added. “More ’n likely it’s several thousand head with a dozen or more different brands.”

  “Speaking of branding, if you would like, Elmer, Wang and I will stay here for a week or so to help you with the branding of the Angus,” Duff said. “It’s nae like it is when they are calves. ’Tis full grown they are, and it’ll take some doing.”

  “Are they already carrying your brand?” Bellefontaine asked.

  “Aye.”

  “There’ll be no need to blot out your brand. When we go into town for me to draw the draft for payment, we’ll have a paper drawn up for you to sign, saying that you’ve transferred the cattle to Slash Bell, and that they’ll be wearing two brands.”

  “How soon do you want to start on the branding?” Duff asked.

  “I’d say tomorrow, if that’s all right with you.”

  “Aye, then tomorrow it will be. ’Tis thinkin’ I am, that we can get a hundred a day. We’ll be done within a week.”

  Chapter Ten

  Blowout

  Ethan Quinn, a tall, slender man, was clean shaven, but he wore his blond hair hanging to his shoulders. He also wore a turquoise-studded silver band around a low-crowned black hat. He had arrived in Blowout two weeks earlier, but his reputation had preceded him. He was a gunfighter who had sold his gun to some of the warring factions in New Mexico. When Quinn learned about the Fence Busters, he decided that joining them would be an easier way of earning a living with his gun than his current status as a freelancer.

  Quinn very much wanted to join the Fence Busters, but he didn’t want to ask, he wanted to be asked. So far, the invitation had not been forthcoming. As he stood at the bar of the Pair of Kings Saloon, he decided that he needed to do something to get Kendrick’s attention. Even as he was thinking about it, the opportunity presented itself when two young cowboys stepped into the saloon.

  In their early twenties, both were wearing guns, and they were talking and laughing a little louder than usual, as if purposely calling atte
ntion to themselves.

  “Barkeep,” the taller of the two said as he put a dime on the bar. “How about putting a beer up here for me ’n my friend?”

  “All right.” The bartender picked up two empty mugs and stepped back to the beer barrel.

  “Do you know who we are?” the talkative one asked.

  “No, I can’t say that I do,” the bartender replied as he drew two mugs of beer and set them before the customers.

  “Well, you’ll hear of us soon enough, because”—the cowboy turned to his partner—“what is it that Gypsy woman said?”

  “Destiny awaits us.”

  “Yeah, that’s what she said, all right. Destiny awaits us. Someday you’ll be able to say that you served beers to Titus Ford and Jake Adams, the very first day we come to Blowout.”

  “I’m sure I will,” the bartender replied with a smile.

  One of the bar girls approached the two young men and greeted them with an inviting smile. “Welcome to Blowout, fellas.”

  “Well now, ain’t you a purty thing, though?” Titus said. “What’s your name?”

  “My name is Glitter.”

  “Glitter? Your mama named you Glitter?” Jake asked.

  “Don’t you like my name?”

  “Yeah, I think it’s a real nice name. I’ll just bet you’d like for one of us to buy you a drink, wouldn’t you?”

  “Oh, that would be very nice,” she replied.

  “Tell you what, Glitter. Why don’t you go get another girl for my friend here? You do that, ’n we’ll pick us out a table and just drink ’n have a fine time together.”

  “I’ll be glad to,” Glitter said. “Now, don’t you two handsome fellas go away while I’m gone.”

  “We ain’t a-goin’ nowhere,” Titus said. “Not with a purty thing like you around. I can promise you that.”

  “Hey, Titus. Did you see how that feller near ’bout peed in his pants when I told ’im I was goin’ to throw down on ’im?” Jake asked after Glitter left to find another girl to join them.

  “What do you mean, near ’bout?” Titus replied. “I swear I seen the front of his pants get wet. They warn’t no near ’bout to it. Hell, he did let loose in his pants.”