Between Hell and Texas (15 page)
Read Between Hell and Texas Online
Authors: Dusty Richards
“Sounds good. I better go home and tell the wife that I'm working again and get everything fixed so she don't have any trouble.”
Chet agreed and they shook hands, then Tom left. “Like him?” Hoot asked.
“Yes, you did good.”
“The other two are doing day work this week for a rancher over east, but they should be back here by Sunday.”
“Good. I better get us some grub.” He looked over at Heck. “You coming?”
“If I can ride my horse.”
“Sure.” They left the café, waving at Jenny, and went to the big mercantile on the square. The place buzzed with business, and a young clerk finally waved them to the counter. “How can I help you? My name's Franklin.”
“Mine's Chet Byrnes and my nephew's Heck.”
“Pleased to meet you. What do you need?”
“A slab of bacon, five pounds of rice and five pounds of brown beans, five pounds of flour, baking soda, two pounds of sugar, coffee, and two pounds of raisins. Plus a can of lard.” He turned to Heck. “Anything else we need?”
“Some dry apples.”
“Put them in, too.”
“Where're you going?” the boy asked.
“Bear hunting.”
The clerk swallowed. “Grizzly?”
“Yeah,” Chet said.
“Whew. Be careful. They can be mean.”
Heck nodded matter-of-factly and finally spoke. “We go all over doing this.”
“Glad to meet you,” the clerk said, and shook his head as if amazed.
Chet paid him, snickering about Heck's remark when they went outside to hang the goods on the bay horse. “You can take it to livery and put it in the panniers. I need to check on Harold.”
Heck really laughed. “That clerk in there thought we were real bear hunters.”
Chet nodded with a chuckle. “He's a town kid.”
“I'll take it to the stables so we can pack it on that mule,” Heck said. “I sure like her food. We going to eat supper at the café tonight?”
“Yes. I'll meet you over there later and we'll sure need some sleep tonight. We're going to put some miles on our ponies the next few days. If there aren't any horses, we'll need some, and soon.” The notion that he didn't have enough horses for the roundup made his roiling stomach sourness rise up behind the root of his tongue.
Chet had found the ranch he really needed, but he might have bought a dry well. Tom should know the range well enough, and if there were any ranch horses left, he would find them. It would be hard for him to sleep, knowing he was going on such a mission.
Damn.
Damn.
Harold bolted up from his seat on the bench when Chet came into the clacking office. He looked wide-eyed. “Where have you been?'
“Getting supplies to make a quick ride over part of the ranch's range.”
“Talley said he'd take your deal. You have his authority to take over the raâ”
Chet put a finger over his mouth to silence him. “No one needs to know that.”
He took Harold outside by the sleeve. “No one needs to know thisâyet.”
“I know. I know. Here's Talley's last telegram.”
Chet read the lengthy telegram. “Tell the buyer to take control of the ranch. I will wire the Arizona Territorial Bank to stop Ryan's use of that account. I will need the ten thousand as soon as is possible. I understand the money is in his Texas bank. They said on the buyer's word they would transfer it to me.”
“You get Talley's signature on a deed to me. Make it to Chester Byrnes and he can have that money. I want him to release the brand, too.”
Harold nodded and sagged against the wall of the brick building. “At this distance, what you and he expect of me ... it is hard to do that quickly.”
“The bank is still open. Who handles his account?”
“Mr. Tanner.”
“Let's go talk to him.”
Harold sighed and moved along beside him, shaking his head. They hurried to the bank and soon were ushered into Albert Tanner's office. The gray-headed man in the brown suit rose and greeted them. After intros and handshakes, he asked them to be seated.
“Mr. Byrnes is buying the Talley operation. Talley has agreed to sell him the ranch. I have his wire right here.”
Tanner took the paper and nodded. “We were notified today not to honor any more of Ryan's checks. What is wrong out there?”
“WeâChet hereâis buying the ranch. He thinks the property is way short on livestock that has been sold off by, well, Ryan.”
“My goodness, the man has been in charge of that operation for several years.”
Chet sat back in his chair. “And the owner being absentee, Ryan's had lots of opportunities to remove livestock, according to some previous workers that I have interviewed.”
“I understand. I have already sent a warning to all the people he deals with in town not to take his checks.”
“Fair enough. I will start an account in your bank in a few days for the new ranch.”
“I would appreciate that. When are you taking over?”
“I want to make a survey of the livestock and then I'll oust Ryan. I have Talley's permission to do that, but I want that confidential until I do it.”
“I understand. Welcome to the Arizona Territory. Any way that we can help, call on us, Mr. Byrnes.” He rose and shook both men's hands.
“Chet's fine. Nice to meet you, sir.”
Once in the street, Harold about collapsed. “These transactionsâmercy me, I am going crazy sending wires, making deals with bankers, owners, and I don't know what allâ”
“Let's go find my boy and eat supper.”
“I think you must get cooler under stress than I do.”
“Perhaps I do.” Chet had no answer for the man. Doing business was much easier than being pinned down in a cedar break and three killers shooting at you. Poor Harold didn't know real stress. If the ranch deal closed without many more hitches, he'd be satisfied. Perhaps in twenty-four hours he'd know the livestock situation better. Then he could go turn Ryan out.
During supper with Harold and Heck, Chet noticed that Harold hardly touched his food, jiggled his coffee cup picking it up, and generally acted shook. Until at last he reached over and grasped the agent's wrist. “Settle down. This deal is going through.”
Harold collapsed on the stool. “I damn sure hope so.”
After supper, he and Heck had parted with the man. The youth laughed and then said, “Man. He was sure nervous.”
“He'll settle down when he gets his commission.”
“I bet he does, too.”
The two of them went on to their hotel beds and Chet tried to sleep a few hours. Instead, he tossed and turned and woke up several times. At last, when it was time to get up, sitting on the edge of the bed, he regretted not sleeping more when he had the chance. In the predawn, they slipped inside Jenny's Caféâshe'd told them to come by and she'd open early for them.
Breakfast was scrambled eggs, fried side meat, and a large stack of pancakes with butter and maple syrup. Jenny slid onto the stool on Heck's side and asked them if they needed more to eat. Both told her no, and Chet thanked her.
“We owe you for opening early,” Chet said.
“No, taking on Hoot was plenty of thanks. I love that old man, and I've hated how Ryan treated him. I'll be glad to see Ryan get what he deserves.” Then she asked Chet, “You ever been married?”
He shook his head. “Never had time. I'm going with a lady back homeâdon't know if she can come out here. How about you?”
“Me? Lands, I've been married three times. First one run off. Second one got kicked in the head by a mule. Number three, I divorced.” She wrinkled her nose. “Guess I wasn't meant to be a wife.”
“Maybe you need to be more choosy.”
“To tell you the truth, you're probably right.”
“Don't get married too soon and quit cooking,” Heck said, with a triangle of pancake on his fork. “We like your cooking.”
They all chuckled.
“You guys be careful up there. I need the business.” With a wink she was gone.
Chet considered her ample frame going into the kitchen. Maybe she was the German girl Susie had been talking to him about needingâno, Jenny was too worldly for that role. The notion made him think about Kathren, and the consideration made him half sick to his stomach. If it wasn't for those damned Reynoldses, she'd already be his wife.
They rode out in the cool predawn for Tom's place. He was ready, kissed his wife good-bye, swung into the saddle, and they were headed in a short lope for the escarpment off the mountain. The pack mule kept up, and aside from his braying, did well. On the brink, the first purple in the eastern sky appeared far off, and they rode down the steep grade in the dim light of dawn.
After the shallow Verde crossing, they headed northwest with Tom guiding them. He'd spoken of some country where the horses might be. Ranch horses usually stayed in contact with each other. Being geldings, they were soon run off from any wild mares by the stallion in charge. By mid-morning, they'd covered lots of country.
The discovery of horse apples made some hope rise in Chet. If they weren't simply mustangs they might be ranch horses. In the other case, they'd only find a band of wild ones. Tom rode up a rise while Chet and the boy dismounted to vent their bladders. He came back off the loose gravel slope and nodded. “I saw some horses I knew.”
“How many?” Chet asked, remounting.
“Maybe thirty.”
“Good. How do we send them back to the ranch?”
“South. We aren't that far west yet.”
“Sounds like news I can stand. I don't want to drive them in to the ranch today.”
“Whatever,” Tom said.
“I am worried, as spiteful as Ryan is, we'll have to watch the place so he don't burn it down in revenge. We get them close they will stay there long enough to recover them.”
Tom made a face, nodding. “Be just like him to do that.”
“I'll head for the far side and swing around them,” Heck said, and Chet agreed. The boy left the mule's lead with him. In the distance, the various-colored horses looked alright. This deal might work. With enough horses and workers, they could find the cattle left on the range with the ranch brand on them. This place would be no bargain, but he liked the range grass he'd seen, and there was some live water. Nothing like the hill country. Arizona was lots drier.
Getting to the horses, they rode past a small group of cows and calves who scattered at their approach. Chet frowned at the black, mostly longhorn bulls trailing them. That hatchet-assed stud should have been worked as a calf. How many more of them did he have?
“How did you like that two-hundred-dollar bull?' Tom asked, riding stirrup-to-stirrup with him.
“Ryan paid two hundred bucks for him?” Chet shook his head in disbelief.
“Great Hereford stock, wasn't he?”
“He have pedigree papers for a Hereford bull?”
“Sure, bet you find them in a desk drawer at the house.” Tom took off to bring up the drag as the horse herd began to gather and move south.
This Ryan had figured out all the angles on how to embezzle money out of the ranch. Longhorn stock was getting harder and harder to sell. That bull wasn't worth fifty bucks on the marketâhis offspring would sure be docked. Damn, he had a hornet's nest to straighten out. He booted the tough roan after the horses, who soon settled into a dust-raising trot. Riding to the side of the bunch, he twisted and saw Tom cut a rebel back into the herd beginning to form. The man was a pro.
Standing in his stirrups, Chet began to count them, waving his lariat at some fools wanting to break off, and sent them back into the herd. Heck was holding the west side and Tom had the drag. The horses settled into a more broke way, except for a few hardheaded ones. But they soon learned they could not escape, and fell in with the rest. Mid-afternoon, Tom indicated that the level land ahead might be a place where they could leave them.
Chet waved his hat at Heck and he came around them. The horses acted satisfied. A few took the opportunity to lay down and roll in the dust. Chet's count was thirty-three. Were there any more? He looked back at the tall mountain range north of them. He'd know in a week or so. At least he had some horses, though two or three looked lame. Not bad, though, to have this many usable horses.
Heck soon joined them. “Them horses don't look bad. One of them must have got bit by a rattler. His ankle is really swollen.”
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