Sunset Pass (1990) (13 page)

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Authors: Zane Grey

BOOK: Sunset Pass (1990)
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"Ash, I tell you we'll lay off killin' till this suspicion dies down."

"Wal, I won't lay off, an' I reckon I can boss the boys," replied Ash.

Then Preston cursed him, cursed him with every hard word known to the range, and some besides.

"This hyar rider, Rock," spoke up Ash, as if he had never heard the storm of profanity, "when yon goin' to fire him?"

"Rock? Not at all."

"Wal, then, I will. He's been around too long, watchin' Thiry, an' mebbe us, too."

"Ash, haven't you sense enough to see thet Rock's bein' hyar is good fer us?" asked Preston, girding himself afresh. "Never was a rider hyar so trusted as Rock. Thet diverts suspicion from us."

"But he might find us out."

"It ain't likely. Shore he doesn't want to."

"He might stumble on to it by accident. Or get around Thiry an' scare it out of her."

"Wal, if he did, thet wouldn't be so bad. He loves her well enough to come in with us."

"An' if she did win him over, what would he want?" hissed Ash.

"Huh! Reckon thet's easy to answer. An' I'm tellin' you, Ash, Thiry would like Rock if she had half a chance."

A knife plunged into Ash's vitals could scarcely have made him bend double and rock to and fro, like that thrust of Preston's.

"She'd like him, huh? So thet's why she made me promise not to pick a fight with him--"

"Wal, Ash, if circumstances come up we can't help or beat, what'n hell can we do? I told you ages ago thet Thiry is bound some day to love some lucky rider. It can't be helped. An' it might be Rock. Which'd be most infernal lucky fer us."

"Lucky fer him! Haw! Haw!--I'd shoot his heart out."

Preston rose to loom menacingly over his son. "You can't murder him in his sleep or shoot him in the back. Thet'd look bad in Wagontongue. It'd just about ruin us. An' if you call him out to an even break--why, Ash, he'll kill you! Savvy? Rock is cold as ice, as quick as lightnin'. He has a hawk eye. I'm warnin' you, Ash."

Chapter
12

In the morning Rock watched from his window until Ash left, then went out to breakfast. Thiry did not appear.

Preston came out while Rock was eating and said, "Rock, I've a job for you, that'll take you away some time. The boys are gettin' a pack outfit ready. I want five hundred head of two-year-old steers in the flat down there by Slagle's ranch. By August."

"You're the boss, Preston. But are you sure you won't need me more right here?"

Preston lowered his voice. "It ain't what I'd like or need. I had no idee last night thet I'd send you off this mornin'. But it popped into my head."

"Ahuh! Who popped it?"

"Thiry. She asked me to. Ash is wuss than ever before. An' fer once Thiry seemed to be' thinkin' of somebody else but him."

Rock repaired to his cabin and rolled his bed and packed the things he would need. He wavered between two strong desires--to see Thiry before he left and write to her. The better course would be to write. Therefore, with pencil and paper he sat down at his little table and began, with hand that he could not keep steady and heart which accelerated a beat for every word.

Thiry Darling
,
Your Dad has ordered me away for several weeks, maybe more. I am glad to go, though not to see your sweet face for so long will be terrible. But I shall work like a beaver, and content myself with thinking of you by day and dreaming of you by night--with praying for your happiness and welfare.

Don't worry, Thiry dear, about Ash, or me, or whatever it is that is wrong. You can't help it, it will not turn out so bad as you think. I believe that if you were to fall into some really dreadful trouble I could save you. Of course by trouble, I mean something concerning Ash. I must not deceive you, dearest, your brother is the kind of range man that comes to a bad end. You must face this with courage. You must realize that he might involve your father, you, and all of your people in something through which you could suffer.

It is no use to try to change Ash. You waste your strength. I think you can only pray and hope for the best.

I shall think of you every sunset, and see you come out to watch the pass.

Ever, Trueman.

Returning to the Preston cabin, Rock looked for Alice to deliver his note, but as she was not there he ventured of his own accord. Slipping it under the door of Thiry's cabin, he beat a rather precipitate retreat.

In half an hour he sat astride Egypt, bound down the Pass. This trip would be a welcome respite, and from every angle favourable for him. Two hours later he was climbing the benches into the black timber, and late that afternoon he halted with the boys in a sylvan spot to make a permanent camp.

"Boys, your dad has stuck us with a job he thinks we can't do," observed Rock at the campfire. "Five hundred head of two-year-olds by August."

"Can't be did," replied Tom.

"Let's fool him once," added Al, with spirit. "There's another dance in town along early in August. An' if you all want a hunch--there's somebody who says I gotta be on hand."

"That's the talk, Al," said Rock. "If we can find a canyon or draw somewhere close we'll drive what we round up each day, and fence them in."

Before they went to bed Rock had imbued the brothers with something of his own will to do or die. Next morning they were up in the dark and on the drive when the first tinges of rose coloured the rims of the Pass.

One night Al got in latest of all, weary and sullen. Rock knew something untoward had happened.

"What did you run up on today, cowboy?" queried Rock, at length.

"I was up under the Notch," replied Al, "an' first thing I seen a couple of riders high up, watchin' me. Reckon they never lost sight of me all day."

Three days later, miles east of the Notch, Rock's alert eye caught sight of riders above him on a slope, keeping behind the trees, and no doubt spying upon him with a glass.

Then, a couple of days before the full 500 head had been herded into the canyon-corral, the thing Rock expected came to pass. Early in the morning a group of riders, five in number, rode down upon the camp.

"Boys, reckon I don't like this," said Rock gruffly. "But you take it natural-like, and I'll do the talkin'."

As the riders entered camp Rock rose to to greet the visitors. They were seasoned range-riders, a hard-looking quintet, not one of whom Rock had ever seen.

"Howdy! just in time for grub," he said heartily.

"Much obliged, but we had ourn," replied the leader, a bronzed, rugged cowman with bright bold eyes that roved everywhere. "Gage Preston outfit?"

"Part of it," replied Rock.

"Round-up or drivin' a herd?" went on the interlocutor.

"We're drivin' 500 head of two-years-olds down the Pass. Reckon another day or so will make the full Count."

"Big job for so few punchers. Where you got the herd bunched?"

"We fenced a canyon across the creek," returned Rock, pointing eastward.

"Don't know the lay of the land," went on the leader. "Haven't rid long on this range."

"Shore you didn't have to tell me that," replied Rock bluntly. "You're from Wyomin', an ridin' for Nesbitt."

"How'd you know thee?"

"Reckon nobody else would brace me this way."

"You? Which one of the Prestons might you be? I've seen Ash Preston, an' you're shore not him."

"I might be any one of the other six Prestons," rejoined Rock with dry sarcasm. "Hadn't you better hand over your callin' card before askin' me to introduce thyself?"

"I'm Jim Dunne, foreman for Hesbitt," replied the rider.

"All right. How do, Mr. Dunne? A blind cowboy could see your call isn't friendly. Now what do you want?"

"Wal, we've come over to have a look at your herd."

"Ahuh!" Rock strode halfway across the camp space to confront Dunne. "Just to see if by accident we didn't round up a couple of Half Moon steers? Dunne, you bet your life you're goin' to look over our herd. Then I'll call you plumb straight."

One of Dunne's men whispered to him, with visible effect.

"Say, are you this fellar Rock?" he asked suddenly.

"Yes, I'm Rock. Reckon that doesn't mean apythin' to you. But maybe it will later."

"Wal, I can't see as there's any reason to be riled," returned Dunne, evidently now' wanting to conciliate Rock.

"That's because you don't know the range," said Rock curtly and then turned to the Preston brothers. "Boys, we'll drive the steers out of the canyon for inspection. We'll head them down into the Pass. Then we'll pack and go on in."

Rock relentlessly held the Half Moon outfit on both sides of the corral gate while the cowboys drove the steers out. It was Rock's task to head them down toward the Pass, which was easy after the leaders got started.

Dunne made several weak attempts to call off the inspection but Rock rigorously held him and his men to a count of every steer that passed the gateway. It was a long tedious job.

"Dunne, between you all you've seen every head of stork we've driven," said Rock, when he has dismounted to face the men. "You didn't see one Half Moon, brand did you?"

"Can't say I did."

"And you punchers? Did you?"

"No, Rock, we didn't," replied the one who had whispered to Dunne. "An' if we'd had our way this deal wouldn't hev come off."

"All right. Dunne, go for your gun!" commanded Rock.

"What!" ejaculated Dunne hoarsely, his face turning yellow.

"Can't you hear? 'Any man who thinks me a rustler, has got to back it with his gun."

"Rock, I--I--we--throwin' guns wasn't in my orders."

"Dunne, you don't fit on this range," replied Rock, in bitter scorn. "Keep out of my way hereafter." Then he turned to the other riders. "Reckon you're not willin' parties to this raw deal Dunne gave me. Any self-respectin' cowboy, if he calls another a rustler, knows it's true and is ready to fight. Tell Hesbitt exactly what happened here. Tell him rotten gossip on the range isn't proof of an outfit's guilt."

"All right, Rock, we'll shore give Hesbitt the straight of this."

The four mounted men rode away, and Dunne made haste to get astride and follow.

On the third day following, Rock and his cowboys left the herd of steers in the meadowland below Slagle's ranch, and rode on home, a weary and silent four.

Rock asked the brothers to keep their mouths shut about the advent of the Half Moon outfit, but strict observance of their promises was not likely. Indeed, by the time he had shaved and changed his clothes, there came a thump on his cabin door.

Rock slid back the bar, whereupon Preston stamped in, with Ash close behind him.

"Howdy, boss!" said Rock cheerfully, and nodded to Ash.

"Al busted in with a wild story," broke out Preston. "Said Hesbitt's outfit spied on you, then rode into your camp. Five of them. Feller named Dunne in charge. He was mean as a skunk an' said he'd look your herd over. But when you called him an' he found out who you was he tried to hedge. Al says you made him inspect every steer you had--an' after that dared him to throw a gun. Al was terrible excited. Darn fool blurted thet all out in front of the folks. Rock, was he just loco, or he is exaggeratin' a little run-in you had with one of Hesbitt's outfits?"

"Boss, Al told the truth, and put it mild at that," replied Rock, and turned to tie his scarf before the mirror. In the glass he saw Preston's eyes roll and fix with terrible accusation upon his son. "Sit down, both of you," went on Rock.

Ash was coolly rolling a cigarette, his face a mask. Preston had been drinking of late, but appeared sober, and now, though grim and angry, met Rock's glance steadily. "Wal, thet's short an' sweet," he said. "Rock, suppose you tell us everythin' thet come off."

Thus adjured, Rock began a minute narrative of the situation.

"Rock, suppose Dunne couldn't have been bluffed? What then?"

"I'd have bored him," answered Rock. "And I told Dunne to keep out of my way. If I meet him--"

"Wal, Rock," interposed Ash in a voice that made Rock's flesh creep, "I'll see to it I'll meet him first."

"Cowboy, I never expected you'd stand up fer me thet way," burst out Preston, genuinely moved. "It means more'n I can tell you, havin' my youngsters be with you then. I just can't thank you."

Preston paced the room, gazing down at the floor. "Reckon this hyar deal wouldn't be particular bad fer me if it wasn't fer our butcherin' bizness," he remarked, as if thoughtfully to himself.

Rock, however divined that was a calculating speech. "Yon hit it, Gage. There's' the rub. My hunch is you must quit the butcherin'," said Rock deliberately.

"I will by thunder!" replied, the rancher, wheeling to face his son.

Ash rose out of the cloud of smoke. At that moment, for Trueman Rock, nothing in the world could have been so desirable as to smash that face. Ash took no notice of his father's decision. He flipped his cigarette butt almost at Rock. "I'm butcherin' to-morrow, Mister Rock," he asserted.

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