Monument Rock (Ss) (1998) (15 page)

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Authors: Louis L'amour

BOOK: Monument Rock (Ss) (1998)
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This would be Rad Yates. He was not the man on the hill; his clothing was brigh
t
and colorful. He grinned when he saw Bowdrie. "Heard you were out at the place,"
h
e said. He turned and spoke to Rose, and Chick moved where he could see Yates'
s
horse. It was a flashy paint.

Rose came over to him, followed by Yates. "We're going towards Rad's place to star
t
a tally on the cattle in those canyons," she said. "I'm sorry I can't stay to entertai
n
you. Would you like to come along with us?"

Chick Bowdrie looked thoughtfully from one to the other. His dark eyes showed on
e
of their rare flashes of amusement. The pieces were beginning to fall into plac
e
now. "Maybe," he said. Then he shifted to the attack. "Sure he's got himself in plac
e
yet, Yates?"

Rad Yates tightened and his head lowered a little. His smile remained, but becam
e
set and hard. "What're you talkin' about?"

"That gent up on the mountain with the rifle."

Yates was caught flat-footed. "What gent? I don't know what you're talking about."

Bowdrie's hands were on his hips, only inches from his guns. "Your first name i
s
Radcliff, isn't it? Maybe the son of Bill Radcliff? Or his nephew?"

"And if it is?"

"Well, it's an interesting point, Yates. But even more interesting if you and th
e
gent up the hill get what you're lookin' for. Then what happens? You shoot it out?"

Rose was looking from one to the other, frankly puzzled. "What are you two talkin
g
about?"

Bowdrie smiled. "Why, Rose, we're talkin' about the loot from this ranch stolen an
d
buried by the Chilton gang. Andy Short was one of them and Bill Radcliff another.

Unless I miss my guess, that's Andy up there on the mountain right now, waitin' fo
r
me with a rifle."

Yates had recovered himself. "Rose, I reckon these Rangers are suspicious of ever'body.

We'd better forget the ride. All right if I come over tomorrow?"

"Of course, Rad." Her voice chilled. "But I expect that Mr. Bowdrie will be leavin
g
now."

She turned on him when they were alone. "You've no right to accuse on so little evidence.

Rad is one of my best friends."

"Yes, ma'am," Bowdrie said. "But I would bear in mind that a man's been murdere
d
for coming to help you. You should be careful."

Rad Yates was frankly stumped. When they learned a Ranger had come upon the bod
y
of the dead man, they were worried. For the first time an unforeseen element ha
d
intruded upon what seemed a perfect plan.

Almost a year before, Andy Short, only recently released from prison, had come upo
n
Yates in an El Paso saloon. A casual word had told Yates who Short was, and he wa
s
disappointed to discover that Short did not know the whereabouts of the loot. Onl
y
Dan Chilton actually knew ... and nobody knew where Dan Chilton was.

Yet Andy Short had an idea. Using Yates's place as a base, he had searched the hill
s
to no avail. He could not locate the hidden loot. But on a casual visit to the RM
,
Rad Yates had seen the letter from the mysterious man in California and had gon
e
at once to Short.

Short, a slender man, gray of face and cold of eye, had been immediately excited.

"Chilton!" He slammed his fist on the table. "He's comin' to give that loot back!

He was always a
namby-pamby
!"

Chilton had had a map.
Short took it from the body after the shooting, mounted his horse, and rode off. From the side of a distant hill he glanced back and suddenly he was frightened.

Dan Chilton's body was gone!

Swinging back, he had seen the bloodstains and the tracks of a staggering man. Somehow
,
Chilton was still alive, and he had gotten into the saddle again.

Short had gone after him, but Chilton had disappeared. When he saw him again it wa
s
in the streets of Valverde and Chick Bowdrie was explaining to Houdon.

Had Chilton lived to talk?

Carefully, they remained away from the location of the loot, waiting to let the Range
r
move first. He would show his hand if he knew anything. If he came after the loot
,
they could kill him. They watched and waited, and then, on Bowdrie's return fro
m
Mexico, they had tried and failed.

Now he was here. And he had known, somehow, about Andy Short being on the mountain.

The plan had been simple enough. Yates would get him out on the mountainside, Shor
t
would do the shooting, then Rad would make a show of chasing the killer. He'd impres
s
Rose and then he and Andy Short would go dig up the loot. But the Ranger was ont
o
them, somehow, and he had posed a disturbing question. What would happen when the
y
got the money? Was he ready to kill to get it all? Was he ready to kill simply t
o
keep his part of it?

When Chick Bowdrie had scouted the area to be sure he was not to be the target o
f
a hidden marksman, he rode away and took back trails for town. His warnings to Ros
e
Murray had gone unheeded. That she liked Rad Yates was obvious, that she did no
t
appreciate Bowdrie's seemingly unfounded suggestions was equally obvious.

The existence of at least two sets of shoes worn in an identical manner damaged wha
t
little case he had and left him without evidence. For a supposedly abandoned route
,
the section of the Strawhouse Trail through the sandstone bottoms got more use tha
n
he would have expected. The horse Rose Murray had ridden was not the horse he ha
d
seen in town. Neither was the horse ridden by Yates.

Valverde was somber with darkness when he dismounted at the stable. The hostler too
k
his horse. "I'll give him a bait of oats," he offered. Pausing, he added, "Strange
r
in town. Tall young feller. Askin' about the dead man."

Over a late supper, Chick pondered his problems. He had stumbled upon the body o
f
a murdered man, yet he was no further along than in the beginning. Andy Short coul
d
be the killer. If he was actually around. On the other hand, so could Rad Yates.

And Rose? That was still a
n
open question. There might be more to this than appeared on the surface.

A quicker solution might be reached if he found the loot. The outlaws had been hotl
y
pursued. Implying little time to conceal the treasure. No time to dig a deep hole.

If it had not been recovered by the surviving members of the gang-and he was positiv
e
it had not-then that implied a place not too easy of access or too easy to guess.

The outlaws' line of flight had been from the hacienda through the Chisos Mountains
,
but by the time they reached Rough Run the loot had already been cached. That lef
t
many miles of country to be searched. Yet, there could not be too many possible hideaway
s
on that route.

The door opened and he looked up. A tall young man had entered the room. He was blon
d
and deeply tanned. "You're Mr. Bowdrie?"

"And you'll be Dan Chilton's son."

The blond young man was surprised. "Why, yes. As a matter of fact, that's my name
,
too. I didn't expect you to know me."

Chick Bowdrie was thinking swiftly. Chilton was an attractive young man, and mor
e
attractive, if he was any judge, than Rad Yates. He grinned suddenly. "Look," h
e
said, "your father was trying to do a good deed out here, that's what got him killed.

. . ." Bowdrie carefully explained to the young man what he knew and what he suspected.

He ended by asking for young Dan Chilton's help. "Rad Yates is involved somehow
,
and he's currying favor with Rose Murray. You go down there, and no matter what happens
,
stick close to her. I don't know what his scheme is, but you'll be in his way."

Chilton nodded. "And what excuse will I give? The son of the man who robbed her family?"

"Just that. You want to atone for what your father did. He was returning to hel
p
her; you want to carry on. She'll listen."

He hesitated, trying his coffee. "Can you use a gun?"

"I have one. A thirty-two Smith & Wesson."

That explained the ammunition. Bowdrie nodded. "It's small, but it will have to do.

Don't use it unless you have to." He explained about Yates, who and what he was.

Chilton nodded, offering no comment.

In their conversation Chilton had been able to tell him very little, but Bowdri
e
sat alone over his coffee in the now silent town and pieced that little togethe
r
with what he knew.

The searchers, old Dan had told his son, had all looked in the Chisos Mountains
,
and that was the wrong place. This narrowed the distance by more than half. The ol
d
trail led from Oak Spring at the foot of the mountains to the Rock Hut at the bas
e
of Burro Mesa. I'll lay two to one it wasn't cached far from that Rock Hut, he tol
d
himself.

One thing he decided. If, as he believed, the presence of Chilton at the RM woul
d
keep Rad Yates around Rose's ranch, it would leave him free to hunt down Andy Short.

For he no longer had any idea of waiting to be shot at. Now he was going to hun
t
the hunter.

Finishing his coffee, he got up and walked to the door. Pedro and his spouse ha
d
long since retired, so he merely blew out the light and turned the knob. For severa
l
minutes he waited, listening to the night sounds in the empty street of Valverde.

A sign creaked rustily in the vague wind. A paper brushed along the street. All wa
s
still.

Suddenly a horseman appeared at the end of the street and started forward, comin
g
along toward the saloon. Bowdrie stepped through the door and eased it shut b
e
hind him. Then he shifted away from the door and stood flat against the building.

The rider reached the marshal's office near the saloon and drew up. His saddle creake
d
as he swung down. Chick strained his eyes in the dim light and could see only tha
t
this was a big man, vaguely familiar.

Taking a careful look around, the man eased his gun in his holster and moved forward
,
and suddenly Chick knew him. It was the big cowhand from the Bar W!

Frowning, Chick waited. This ... it simply did not fit. Unless the man had discovere
d
something.

Opposite the door of the marshal's office, the big man paused. The man was in th
e
darker shadow now, away from the gray of the street, and Chick only knew he was there
,
he could see nothing.

A flicker of movement drew Bowdrie's eyes and suddenly he realized there was anothe
r
person-man or woman-in the space between the saloon and the office. Chick Bowdrie
,
suddenly comprehending, stepped out of the shadow and started forward.

Even as he moved he saw the big man, warned by some vague sound, grab franticall
y
for his gun. Another gun boomed heavily between the buildings and the big man staggered
,
then fell back off the boardwalk. He tried to get up, and a shot nailed him to th
e
spot. Chick tried a fast shot at the darkness whence the gun flashes had come, an
d
a return shot whipped past his face.

Running, he dashed forward, hearing a door slam open and a shouted question. He reache
d
the alleyway and plunged recklessly into it. At the far end of the dark alley a hors
e
and rider lunged suddenly, running away behind the buildings. When Chick reache
d
the spot, the rider was gone ... out of sight. Only a drum of running hooves fadin
g
in the night.

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