Blood on Mcallister (15 page)

She pushed his head back onto the pillow.

‘Lie still,' she said.

‘What happened?'

‘You must have fainted.'

‘Fainted! I never fainted in my life.' That was something for women and children.

‘Well, you fainted this time and don't think you're going to get any sympathy from me, Remington McAllister. You're a damned fool, playing childish games with that wound in your side.'

He remembered Billy Gage.

‘Billy … where's Billy?'

‘He's downstairs, waiting to see if you're going to live or not.'

‘Get him.' She started to protest. But he croaked at her: ‘Get him up here.' She gave him a look that was half despairing and half angry and left the room. When she returned a few minutes later with Billy Gage he was sitting on the edge of the bed with a sheet draped around him, loading the Remington. She screamed at him to get back into bed. He turned on her, his voice coming stronger now——

‘You know what's goin' to happen? This boy's goin' to get himself killed.'

‘Killed?' She looked from McAllister to Billy.

Billy said: ‘You ought to be taking it easy, Rem.'

‘Take it easy. You know damn well Shultz will carry out his promise.'

‘I can look after myself.'

‘Like a kid in diapers can. This ain't the back alleys of New York, boy.'

Billy produced a Colt's pistol from his waist-band and said: ‘I have this and I know how to use it.'

McAllister looked at him approvingly. ‘That's more like it.' He looked around. ‘Where the hell're my clothes? Rosa, hustle them togs up.'

She raised her hands to her face.

‘You're not going out of here.'

‘You'd think we was married the way this woman goes on,' McAllister snarled.

‘I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on earth.'

‘Fetch me a drink.'

Billy said: ‘Do you think you ought?'

With the sheet wrapped around him, McAllister staggered to the bureau, found a bottle of whiskey and wrenched the cork out with his teeth. When he had drunk copiously, he slammed the bottle down and started looking for his clothes.

‘How do you feel?' Billy asked.

‘Goddam awful,' McAllister snapped. ‘How do you think I feel?' He found his longjohns and started dragging them on. That exhausted him and he sat on the bed for a moment, panting.

Rosa said: ‘I wash my hands of you. You don't have more sense than a—a——'

‘I know,' he said. ‘Give me a kiss to show you ain't really mad at me.' She snorted and turned away. Billy handed him his shirt and he dragged it over his head. Next, the boots. Billy would have helped with those, but McAllister slapped his hands away. He got up and stamped his feet into them. Rosa looked like she could kill him. He took another drink of whiskey and declared he felt a lot better. He looked at Billy, a lopsided grin on his face: ‘I ought to hate you,' he said. ‘You know that. Beatin' me that way. You reckon the mob'll hang me if'n I go out on the streets now?'

‘A good job if they do,' Rosa told him.

He put his arm around her and gave her a resounding kiss. She fought him at first, then she gentled and put her arms around him.

‘You ought to stay here and rest,' she said.

‘Sure,' he told her. ‘I'll rest when this is over. Where's Jim an' Pat?'

‘Pat's at the hotel. Jim rode out to his place to see if there's anything left.'

Rosa said: ‘What're you going to do?' ‘I'm goin' to start a war.'

‘Don't drag Jim into this. He wants out. Let him at least stay alive.'

‘He can want out all he wants. I ain't goin' to let him out. A man has to fight for what's his. If he don't want to fight I drag him back in by the scruff of his neck.'

‘Pat was right. You are a savage.'

He was buckling his gun on, picking up the Henry from where it leaned against the wall. He became still for a moment, looking down at Rosa.

‘Say somethin' nice afore I go, honey,' he said.

For a moment, she looked as if she would strike him, but she softened suddenly, went up to him and took his face in her hands. He stooped and she kissed him on the mouth.

‘Come back,' she said, ‘alive.'

‘I'd bet on it,' he said. ‘Start sayin' your prayers for the other feller.'

‘Why are you doin' this, Rem?'

‘I can't tolerate puffed up bastards.'

He patted her on the bottom and walked to the door, opened it and went out without a backward glance. Billy followed him.

Out on the street, the few lamps were lit. McAllister stopped on the sidewalk and looked up and down the street.

‘You could back out now, Billy, without no shame,' he said.

‘That ain't true and you know it,' Billy said. ‘Let's get on.'

They angled across the street to the livery. As they walked, McAllister said: ‘Keep your eyes skinned. We watch for Shultz from here on.'

They walked into the livery yard and called for the ostler, but received no reply.

McAllister said: ‘We'll help ourselves. There's a nice little bay he has will do you just fine.' He turned toward the barn and saw that there was a lamp burning dimly in there.
They entered the close warmness of the building and McAllister reached up to turn the wick of the lamp up.

From his right a voice said: ‘Hold it right there, McAllister.'

He knew that it was Shultz. Billy went very still, sudden fear showing on his face.

McAllister said: ‘You made your first mistake, Shultz.'

‘How was that?'

‘You should of shot without talkin' about it.'

‘I want you both,' Shultz said. He was standing in the deep shadows of one of the stalls. ‘I'd like Billy to know who was killing him. And why. Nobody ever crosses me.'

McAllister heard a faint sound behind him, but dared not move for fear of the gun Shultz held on him. He heard heavy breathing and the next second, a pair of iron arms encircled him, one around his throat. Shultz laughed and said: ‘Hold him there, Moose. We don't want no noise. We'll do this with the knife.'

Billy said: ‘For God's sake, Harry.'

‘I'll come to you in good time.' Shultz appeared from out of the shadows, lifted the gun from Billy's pants' top and threw it aside. He laughed and put his gun away. The grip on McAllister tightened and he thought he would strangle. He thought that the man holding him must be made like a gorilla. He knew that even when he was fighting fit his strength would not be up to this man's.

Shultz slid a hand under his coat and produced a long-bladed knife. It glittered in the light of the lamp. He advanced toward McAllister with the point directed at the big man's belly. As it came close, McAllister's stomach muscles contracted in expectation.

Billy said: ‘You don't have to harm McAllister, Harry. He ain't in this.'

Harry said: ‘That shows how much you know, Billy, my boy. McAllister's very much in it. You both die.'

McAllister wondered why Billy didn't jump the man. Now was his chance. It was a gamble, but with both of them on the edge of death a gamble was worth taking. All the time he had been standing there with those great arms around him he had been steadily resisting their pull backward. Now he gave a little under the pressure as though his strength was giving
out—which wasn't far from the truth. In fact, he wondered if he had the strength to do what he planned. He would know in a second or two.

Shultz was nearly within striking distance now with Billy off to one side of him. The fair man was standing still, staring at the knife in fascinated horror.

McAllister gave a little more under the pull of the massive arms. He heard a grunt in his ear and felt the hot breath.

‘Let me strangle the bastard,' the voice said an inch from McAllister's ear.

McAllister held his breath.

Shultz grinned quickly and said: ‘Go ahead, Moose. Why should I have all the fun?'

The grip slowly started to tighten. McAllister put up a token struggle. The man behind him shifted his grip and during the release of the hold McAllister made no attempt to get free. He felt the pair of fingers and thumbs in the back of his neck and his windpipe. He allowed a strangling sound to break from his lips. The man grunted again and started some real pressure. McAllister reckoned if he didn't move now he'd pass out.

He reached up quickly, seized the wrists and jerked himself forward, doubled up. The weight he heaved was massive and it took every ounce of strength in his body to lift it. There was a howl of rage and disbelief. McAllister read the same disbelief briefly on Shultz's face as the gorilla sailed through the air. He hit Shultz like a house coming down and they went across the barn in a tangle of arms and legs. McAllister and Billy went into action. Though there wasn't much action left in McAllister. He'd about used up his strength. But he heaved the Remington from leather and waited for Billy to finish.

The fair man leapt forward as soon as the action started. The head of the gorilla had hit a side of a stall reducing part of it to matchwood. This laid the giant out a groaning mass on the hard earth of the barn. Shultz came off somewhat better. He staggered to his feet, the knife still in his hand and Billy hit him hard in the face with his clenched fist. Shultz went down as if he were pole-axed. Billy stood panting.

McAllister said: ‘Get some rope, Billy.'

The fair man found some rope hanging from a hook. In no time at all he had the gorilla tied hand and foot. McAllister lifted the lamp down and took a look at him. So at last he had sight of the man who had slugged him in the hotel. He was a giant with a heavy brutalised face. He was coming to consciousness now, glaring at McAllister out of pig eyes, savage as a captured animal. Shultz came around too after Billy had bound him.

‘Gag ‘em,' McAllister said. ‘The longer they're here, the better.' Billy obeyed him.

Shultz's eyes looked at them with murder in them.

McAllister knew he should kill the pair of them, but he didn't have the stomach for that kind of thing. If he didn't do that, he should hand them over to Mart Krantz. But there wasn't time for that. He wanted to be in the saddle and getting things moving against Brenell. He holstered the Remington and saddled the canelo which whinnied with pleasure as he did so. Billy chose a small bay, throwing a saddle on it.

As they rode out through the town, McAllister had a dim worry in him about the two men he had left back there. As soon as they were free, they would come after them again. That brought him to the question of why Shultz wanted to kill him, McAllister? There was something here he didn't know about. Who wanted him dead? He could only think of Brenell, but he didn't know he was coming for him yet. But back on the range that day when he was headed for town, Brenell's men had stopped him. Brenell had thought him a gun-hand. Maybe that was the answer. It didn't matter much, for Brenell was going to want him dead, any road, pretty soon.

They found their way through the water of the creek and rode north-east, McAllister leading the way unerringly. They didn't talk. After a couple of hours, McAllister slackened pace and said: ‘We go in easy now, maybe there's some Brenell's riders around.'

But there weren't. It was Jim Rigby's voice that challenged them out of the darkness. They walked their horses forward and there was Rigby with a rifle in his hands.

‘They burned everything,' he said in angry disgust. ‘There isn't a damn thing left. They even chopped the corral up
and burned it.'

McAllister and Billy stepped down from the saddle and loosened girths.

‘We might as well sleep the night here, Billy,' McAllister said. ‘Where's your outfit, Jim?'

‘Over yonder.'

They led their horses over to where Rigby had his horse staked and took their bed rolls from behind their saddles. Then they unsaddled and allowed their horses to roll. Then they staked them. They squatted and McAllister loaded and fired his pipe. When he had it going to his satisfaction, he said: ‘What do you aim to do, Jim?'

‘Like I said before—pull out. There's nothing left for Pat and me here.'

‘Billy an' me think different.'

‘Rem, it's reached the shooting stage. No land is worth killing a man for.'

‘That depends on the man, don't it? Maybe if somebody was to get rid of a bloated bull-frog like Brenell, the world would be a better place. Say, there ain't a damned hill for miles around here. I never saw flatter country in all my life. If you wanted to hide out, where would you go?'

Rigby peered at him in the gloom.

‘What're you cooking up?' he said.

‘Just answer the question.'

‘Well, there's Two-Mile.'

‘What's that?'

‘It's a two-mile gully, I suppose you'd call it a canyon, about ten miles north of here. What do you have in mind, Rem? I have a right to know.'

‘Just tryin' to think of somethin' that'd git your land back without no shootin'.'

‘It can't be done. Brenell's taken the range over. His cows're everywhere.'

‘What do you aim to do right now?'

‘Sleep. Then I head for town. Then I get out of the country.'

‘Go to town an' stay there. Give Billy an' me a week, Jim. That's all we ask.'

Rigby made a doubtful noise.

‘I hate to say it,' he said, ‘but this ain't your affair, Rem.'

Billy said: ‘But it's my affair. You asked me to come in with you. My future and Pat's are at stake.'

‘Aw, all right, if you both want to be damn fools. You're not going about it the right way, though. Mart Krantz ought to be brought in on this.'

‘Why didn't you bring him in?'

‘There wasn't any evidence that Brenell had burned me out.'