Conagher (1969) (10 page)

Conn, what's got into you? We've got a good thing here if you play your card s right .

I play them the way they're dealt , Kris. What don't you like ?

There's no need to stir up trouble. Yo u wanted a place to lay up during the winte r . . . well, you got it. So set still and ride i t out. In the spring you can drift .

Conagher glanced around .
When I take a man's money, Kris, I do the jo b he hired me for. I don't know no othe r way.

No, I guess you don't .
Mahle r dropped onto a bench .
Conn, you're n o tenderfoot. The Ladder Five is Smok e Parnell's outfit. Tile Coker is his righ t hand. You run a-foul of them and they'l l nail your hide to the barn door .

Slowly, Conagher lowered his feet.

Every time somebody warned him o r threatened him it got his back up. H
e wanted trouble with no man, but he wasn'
t going to take any pushing around, either.

You tell me something, Mahler.

Where do you stand? Are you riding fo r the brand? Are you runnin' scared? Or ar e you sellin' out to that damned bunch o f highbinders on the Ladder ?

Mahler's face turned ugly .
I coul d make you draw a gun for that , he sai d hoarsely .
Damn you, Conn! Don't pus h me !

Seems to me
, Conagher replie d mildly , that I am the one who is bein g pushed. I'll tell you this, Mahler, and pu t it in your pipe and smoke it. Every ST
b eef critter I see heading toward Ladde r range is going to get turned back, and if I smell any hide burning from a Ladde r iron, I'll go in a-fogging it ... no matte r who is doing the branding. Do you hea r me ?

You're a damn fool , Mahler said.

Look, they're going to clean him out. B
y spring there won't be a head of beef left o n ST range, and there isn't a thing anybod y can do about it. You can do your job an'
l ook the other way, or you can set yoursel f up for a target. You've got a choice .

It's you who have the choice, Mahler.

You've got the choice right this minute.

You throw your pack on your horse an d ride out of here tonight, or you do wha t you mentioned, and pull that gun on me.

Before you reach for it, remember this.

I been shot at a few times, and I'm stil l around. I've gone down a few times, but I always got some lead into the man who di d the shooting .

Conn Conagher stood up .
Kris, yo u pack up and light a shuck. I got no use fo r a traitor .

Mahler got to his feet, his features dar k with fury. Desperately, he wanted to pull a gun on Conagher, but there was a health y streak of caution in him.

There was nothing of the tenderfoot i n Conagher. He was an old curly wolf fro m the high country, and Mahler had see n what he did to Staples. That beating ha d been brutal and thorough. Morever, in th e close confines of a bunk house there wa s no way either of them could miss. Kri s Mahler was ready enough to shoot, but h e was not ready to die.

All right
, he said , I'll pull out. An d Johnny will go with me. That mean s there's just you, the Old Man, and Legget t . . . how far will that take you ?

Conagher shrugged .
Kris, neither o f us is going to get out of this alive. That'
s the only thing a man knows about life.

I'll work my tail off and cash in m y chips some dark night riding herd o n another man's cows, but when they writ e my epitaph they'll say, He rode for th e brand, and when they write yours they'l l say, He sold out the man who trusted him. I like mine better .

You're a damn fool , Mahler said.

Am I? I've seen your kind, Kris.

Whatever you steal, the women on th e Line will get, or you'll get headaches fro m the rotten booze they feed you, and whe n your back is turned one of your partner s will shoot you for what's left in you r pockets .

Kris Mahler walked to the door , dropped his gear, and went to saddle a horse .
Seaborn Tay came to the door of th e ranch house .
Kris? Is that you ?
h e called.

He's just quit, Mr. Tay , Conn said.

He's workin' for the Ladder outfit now .

You got money coming, Mahler , Ta y said.

He's got nothing coming. He's helpin g them rob you .

Nevertheless, I am paying him. Com e to the house, Mahler, when you're read y to go .

There's a square man, Kris , Conaghe r said.

Mahler did not speak, but when hi s horse was saddled he turned on Conagher.

Tell him to keep his damn money! I don't want it !

Better take it. That may be the las t honest money you ever see .

Mahler turned around sharply .
La y off, Conagher. Damn you, lay off! I don'
t want to kill, but?

Arizona is nice this time of year, if yo u go south far enough , Conn suggested , or California, or the gulf coast of Texas .

Suddenly a rider came in from the dark.

It was Johnny McGivern.

He looked startled when he saw Mahle r packing his gear behind the saddle .
Hey , what's goin' on here ?

I just quit, kid. Get your outfit an d let's go .

Go where
?

I'm joining up with the Ladder Five.

Come on. I ain't got all night .

Johnny stared at him, then looked a t Conagher .
Is this your doing ?

No, his. He decided he didn't want t o swindle a man who paid him honest wages.

He's going where he belongs, of his ow n choice .

You talk too damn much !
Mahle r said .
Come on, kid .

There it lays, Johnny. You've got a choice. You can ride the owl-hoot trail, o r you can play it honest. What you decid e tonight can change your whole life .

Kris is my partner !

Right down the road to hell, or to a hangman's noose. That the way you wan t it ?

Lay off, Conn
!
Mahler exclaimed.

I'm warnin' you. Lay off !

Can't you see it, Mahler? I'm neve r going to lay off. I'm going to show thos e friends of yours what it costs to steal a n honest man's cattle. From the momen t you ride out of here, it's war, Kris, and I don't have one ounce of mercy in me fo r your kind .

You're only one man .

I know. And there was a Texas range r named Captain Bill MacDonald who sai d there was no stoppin' a man who knew h e was in the right and kept a-comin'.

You boys had better shoot me, Kris , and then you'd better shoot me agai n and stomp the life out of me, because a s long as I can crawl, I'll fight. As lon g as I can move a finger, I'll squeeze a trigger. You boys have saddled you r bronc, now let's see if you can rid e him !

Johnny, you goin' to stand there?

Come on
!

Conn? What'll I do ?

You're a man, son , Conagher answered.

You make your own decision.

Just remember when you make this be t you've thrown your life into the pot . . .
y our life and your future .

Johnny hesitated, then slowly he go t down from the saddle .
I'll stay. You rid e on, Kris. I'm sorry, but this here's wher e the trail divides .

The hell with you !

Kris Mahler jerked his horse aroun d savagely and rode out of the yard.

Conagher looked at the boy. There wer e tears in his eyes. Conn put a hand on hi s shoulder .
Come on, son. You nee d something to eat .

The next morning, leaving Johnn y McGivern on the ranch, Conn Conaghe r took off, but instead of making the wid e sweep he rode directly across country.

From the top of a ridge he studied th e layout with his field glasses for nearly hal f an hour before he rode down to the flat.

Then he began a sweep, pushing cattl e back toward the canyons of the Blac k Range where there was water and grass, a s well as some shelter from the weather. H
e worked hard, starting several bunche s moving, and stopping every once in a while to study the range to the north.

Then he rode on, keeping under cover , starting cattle whenever he encountere d them, having the one idea of getting the m as deep into ST territory as possible.

It was late afternoon before he saw an y riders, and when he did see them h e turned at once toward the hills, ridin g back toward the ridge by a route he ha d previously scouted. Leaving his horse ou t of sight beyond the ridge, he dug out a small hollow in a place that seemed to offe r no cover, and there he watched the riders.

One of them was young, the second was , by the look of him, Smoke Parnell himself.

Suddenly they drew up. Conaghe r swore. They had found his tracks!

He eased his rifle forward and waited , watching to see what they would do.

Parnell studied the tracks, then scanne d the country around, particularly the ridg e where Conagher lay, but farther to the eas t and west in places of obvious cover. The n he reached for his rifle, and when he put a hand on it, Conagher tucked the butt o f his own rifle against his shoulder, hi s cheek against the stock, and took a goo d sight. He squeezed off his shot as Parnell'
s rifle began to leave the scabbard.

He saw the horse jump and go t o pitching even as the boom of the sho t reverberated against the hills. Instantl y Conn was on his feet and running for hi s horse.

When he reached the crest of the ridg e again, fifty yards off, he was in the saddle , and only his eyes cleared the ridge, behin d some brush.

Parnell was getting up off the ground , and he was shouting mad. His horse ha d run off a few steps and the rider wit h Parnell had gone after it. Parnell stoppe d to pick up his rifle and Conagher sho t again, his bullet kicking sand withi n inches of Parnell's hand.

The outlaw leaped back so swiftly tha t he tripped himself and fell again. Instantly , Conn fired again, splashing san d into Parnell's face; then switching his aim , he put a bullet in front of the horse just a s the other rider was reaching for the bridle.