[Texas Rangers 06] - Jericho's Road (18 page)

Farley said, “With any luck, the Rangers will get most of the credit without it costin’ us anything except some shells.”

Andy asked, “What does it matter who gets the credit?”

“
Wake up and think, Badger Boy. Donahue would sell his mother to get promoted to lieutenant. If the papers in San Antonio and Galveston get wind of this, he’s liable to make it. And I’d bet my saddle and fixin’s that he’ll make sure they hear about it.”

Though Andy had reservations about Donahue, it had not occurred to him that the sergeant might have planned this little campaign more to advance his career than to punish outlaws.

Farley said, “There ain’t many people do things just from the goodness of their heart. Most of them look out for theirselves first. You’d better learn to do the same if you don’t want to set your boots under a poor man’s table all your life.”

If this was true, Andy thought, perhaps headquarters in Austin would assign Donahue to some post where he would consider the adversaries to be worthy of his attention. He had only contempt for Mexican border jumpers.

Hewitt kept pushing out in front, eager to get into the fight. Len was but little behind him, pistol already in his hand. A growing cloud of dust indicated that gunfire had spooked the cattle into a stampede. Through the swirling of hoof-stirred earth Andy began to see horsemen circling about. They were too busy firing at one another to try to control the herd.

Donahue shouted, “Spread out. Shoot every Meskin you see.”

Andy followed Len, wanting to keep him in sight because he feared the excitement might make Len careless. But in the dust and confusion he lost him.

A Mexican appeared, a white horseman in close pursuit. The fugitive’s horse fell, spilling its rider. The man jumped to his feet and raised his hands, pleading. The pursuer rode within point-blank range and shot him between the eyes.

Andy felt choked. He blamed it on the dust.

Two hundred yards away he saw a white rider slump from the saddle, then struggle to rise from the ground. A Mexican leaned over the fallen man and put two more bullets into him. Before the Mexican could pull away, a Ranger shot him down.

Andy’s stomach turned. Both sides were turning this into an orgy of killing.

Donahue was chasing a fugitive but pointed at another who was spurring eastward. He shouted, “There goes a Meskin. Don’t just sit there, Pickard. Get the son of a bitch.”

By reflex Andy set off in a long lope. Sensing someone behind him, he looked back and saw Farley twenty yards in the rear, trying to catch up. The runner’s bay horse was long-legged and strong of wind. For a while it lengthened its lead. The chase stretched to one mile, then two. Andy began to doubt that he could overtake the raider. But gradually the bay weakened, its hide glistening with sweat, its mouth white with foam.

Someone else appeared behind Farley. He was neither Mexican nor Ranger, so Andy figured he was a Jericho man. Farley pointed a pistol at him, and the rider turned back.

Andy tried to aim at the fugitive, but uneven ground made it impossible to hold the pistol steady. He shouted, “Stop or I’ll shoot you.”

The threat was hollow. Surely by this time the runner realized that if he was not shot now he would be shot soon after his capture. That was the fate of any raiders unfortunate enough to be run down.

The bay stumbled. Its rider tumbled to the ground, rolling up against a bush. Andy slid his horse to a stop and thrust the pistol toward the fugitive’s face. “Raise your hands!”

He saw blood spread over the man’s shirt front. As the raider looked toward him, recognition struck Andy like a fist to the jaw. This was Tony Villarreal.

The voice was weak but full of fight. “Go ahead, you damned
rinche.
If you’re goin’ to shoot me, do it.”

Andy lowered the pistol, his mind in turmoil. He heard a horse coming up behind him. It was Farley’s. He said, “Don’t shoot him, Farley. This is Big Jim’s stepson.”

Farley said, “The hell you say. Looks to me like you’ve already shot him.”

“
Not me. Somebody did it before I saw him. How bad are you hit, Tony?”

Tony touched a hand to his ribs and drew it away, covered with blood. “What difference does it make? If you don’t kill me, Jericho will. They’re killin’ everybody.”

Dismounting, Andy turned to Farley. “Let’s see what we can do for him. At least stop the bleedin’.”

Farley did not leave the saddle immediately. “Ain’t much we can do. He’s a Mexican. Jericho’s crowd’ll finish him off.”

“
Not if we get him away from here.”

“
Where to? Not to the river. We’d run into some of Jericho’s men as sure as you’re born. They might shoot him
and
us.”

Andy jerked his head, motioning to the east. “We could take him to his folks. I don’t think Jericho’s outfit is apt to try for him if we can get him to Big Jim.”

“
Maybe not, but Donahue’ll raise hell. Fire us both, more than likely.”

“
After what I’ve seen this mornin’, bein’ a Ranger doesn’t shine all that bright anyhow.”

Tony’s face was pale from shock, but his raspy voice was still defiant. “I don’t need help from no
rinches.
Catch my horse for me and I’ll take care of myself.”

Andy said, “You’d fall out of the saddle before you went two hundred yards. We ain’t doin’ this for you. We’re doin’ it for your folks. I don’t see where we owe you a damned thing.” He took off his neckerchief and wadded it. Sharply he said, “Hold that against the wound. Maybe it’ll slow the bleedin’ till we can get you out of Jericho’s reach.” He looked back, fearing he might see someone coming.

Farley brought up Tony’s bay. “I doubt this horse has got many miles left in him.”

Andy said, “If he quits, we’ll ride double.” He helped Tony up into the saddle. “Hang tight to the horn. I’ll ride close by and try to catch you if you start to fall off.”

Tony muttered, “I can take care of myself.”

“
You’ve done right poorly at it so far.”

As Andy mounted, Farley moved around to the other side. He cautioned, “You must like trouble, Badger Boy. You’re fixin’ to get us into a mess of it.”

“
If you want to leave, go ahead. I can manage alone.”

Farley shrugged. “It’s always pleasured me to aggravate people I don’t like. I don’t like Donahue much, and I got no use at all for Jericho. Let’s move before him or some of his gun toters come lookin’ for this hotheaded idiot.”

Tony rasped, “Go to hell.”

Farley growled, “Some people have got no appreciation. They’d complain if they was hung with a brand-new rope.”

Despite the risk that Tony’s tired horse would give out completely, Andy held to a brisk pace for the first couple of miles. Then he slowed, for Tony was barely able to grasp the horn and stay in the saddle.

He said, “Maybe we’d better tie him on.”

Farley said, “He could fall and get tangled in the rope. I seen a man drug to death once. It was a gut-grabbin’ sight.”

The mental image was disturbing. Andy said, “Tony, you’ll just have to grit your teeth and hang on.”

The young man made no response. Andy was not sure he was still able to comprehend.

Farley turned in the saddle and swore aloud. “I knew our luck wouldn’t hold. Somebody’s catchin’ up to us.”

Andy looked back, holding his breath. He saw two horsemen. “They’re not Rangers. Must be some of Jericho’s people.”

Farley squinted. “People, hell, one of them is Jericho hisself, big as a barn door.”

Andy started looking for a defensive position but saw nothing except low thorny brush and almost flat ground. “Poor place to stop and put up a fight.”

Farley grunted. “Most of the fights I ever had was in poor places. Best we get down and stand behind our horses.”

Andy and Farley both struggled to get Tony to the ground without letting him fall. Andy drew his rifle and propped it across the saddle.

The red-bearded man seemed too large even for the tall horse he rode. Jericho and another rider reined their sweating mounts to a stop. The other man said, “Told you he looked like Big Jim McCawley’s kid. We like to’ve lost him.”

Jericho smiled coldly at the sight of Tony, leaning against his saddle and holding on to keep from falling. “Well, he’s caught now.” He seemed to recognize Andy. “Thanks for catchin’ him for us. I’ll take charge of him now.”

Andy said, “No, you won’t. We’ve got him under arrest.”

“
I don’t see no badges on you.”

“
They never issued us any, but we’re Rangers just the same.”

Jericho’s mouth twisted as he considered the situation. Andy watched him warily. Jericho outweighed him by fifty or seventy-five pounds. He had an air like a bull ready to charge. If he had been one he would be pawing the ground.

Jericho said, “You’ve done your job. You can turn this renegade over to me and go on about your business.”

“
He is our business. He’s our prisoner.”

“
You’re a long ways from a jailhouse. Give him to me and he won’t get away again, not now and not ever.”

Andy said, “We’ve seen how you handled the others you’ve caught.”

“
There’s just one way to treat a bandit: kill him where you find him. No judge, no lawyers, no jury that might turn him loose and let him do it again.”

“
Do you know who he is?”

“
He’s a nephew of Lupe Chavez.”

“
And he’s Big Jim McCawley’s stepson.”

“
Makes no difference. He’s a bandit. It’s open season on all of his kind.”

Andy’s rifle had been pointed upward, toward the sky. He lowered the muzzle so Jericho could look directly into it. Instinctively Jericho tried to draw to one side, but Andy let the front sight follow him. The rancher made a big target.

Andy said, “Now, sir, if you’ll back off, we’ll be on our way.”

Jericho showed no sign of retreat. He said, “I never seen a Ranger that had two dollars in his pocket. I’ll pay you a good price for him. What’ll you take?”

“
They ain’t buyin’ and sellin’ people anymore. Didn’t you ever hear of Abraham Lincoln?”

Jericho glowered. “They shot
him.
”

Andy held firm. “You ain’t gettin’ our prisoner.”

Jericho’s mouth made contortions without producing any sound. At last he said, “I don’t know where you figure on takin’ him, but wherever it is, I don’t think you’ll get there.” He jerked his head. “Come on, Baldy, before I let my temper make me kill a couple of Rangers.”

Nobody spoke until Jericho and his companion were a hundred yards away. Farley took a deep breath. “You sure put the Indian sign on him. I guess it’s all that Comanche in you.”

“
You heard what he said. He ain’t given up.” Andy turned to Tony. “Let’s move while he’s tryin’ to figure out what to do next.”

Andy helped Tony into the saddle. Tony touched his hand against the wound in his side. It came away with fresh red color. Andy said, “Still bleedin’ a little. Keep pressin’ my neckerchief against it.”

Farley remarked, “That dirty neckerchief is liable to kill him if the bullet don’t.”

As they rode, Tony asked, “What he said about you bein’ part Indian … is that a fact?”

“
Depends on how you look at it. My folks were white, but the Comanches took me when I was a boy. Kept me a long time. Some of their teachin’ has stuck with me.”

“
I’ve been raised white and Mexican both. I guess me and you have got somethin’ in common.”

Andy shook his head. “Damned little. I’ve never swum the Rio Grande to raid somebody’s cattle.”

“
It’s not just somebody, and it’s not really about cattle. It’s about Jericho Jackson. Tío Lupe and me, we won’t stop till we’ve settled our score with him.”

“
Looks like he stopped you today. Most of the men who came with you appear to’ve got themselves killed.”

“
Too bad, but there’s plenty more ready to rise up against him. He’s already dead. He just don’t know it yet.”

Andy touched spurs to his horse’s ribs. “He’s about the livest-lookin’ dead man I ever saw. And I’m bettin’ he’s trailin’ behind us, just out of sight.” He pointed in a northeasterly direction. “Seems to me that ought to be the right direction to Big Jim McCawley’s.”

Tony protested, “It’s not his place. It’s my mother’s and Tío Lupe’s. I don’t want to go there.”

“
It’s our only chance, poor as it is. Jericho would never let us get you to the river.”

They traveled slowly because Tony had trouble staying astride. Andy had to reach across at times and hold him in the saddle. He kept looking back.

Farley said, “Ain’t no use lookin’ behind us. They ain’t there anymore.” He pointed. “They’re alongside us, and it looks like Jericho has picked up a couple more men.”