Read Passin' Through (1985) Online

Authors: Louis L'amour

Passin' Through (1985) (18 page)

BOOK: Passin' Through (1985)
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"He drive that smart new buggy?"

"Yep."

"He was down there today, most of the day."

Walking up the street, I got myself a bed in a three-bed room, then went across the dusty lane to get myself a bait of grub. I was hopin' she'd be in there and she was. She was settin' up to the table an' she was alone.

"Oh? I thought you were gone."

"I came back."

She looked at me very thoughtfully. "You look as if you had been ill? I mean, you're very pale."

"I had some trouble." I put my cup down. "Ma'am? If I was you, I'd get a good lawyer. I'd go into Animas City or this new town they've started and I'd get a lawyer. You're goin' to need one."

"I have a friend who is helping me."

"Pelham? Is that right? Known him long?"

"No, but -"

"Tell you where he was today?"

"No, why should he? As a matter of fact, I haven't seen him today."

"I haven't either, but that rig he drives was out at the Phillips ranch most of the day."

"But that couldn't be. Today he was to drive over to Mancos on business. He told me so."

"The rig was there most of the day."

She smiled. "You must be mistaken. There are many buggies that are similar." She looked at me coolly over her cup. "If you knew about that rig you must have been there yourself."

"Yes, ma'am. I was laid up. I mean, I'd been shot. Right about then I was just tryin' to stay alive."

"Shot?" She was shocked.

"Yes, ma'am. Somebody follered me. Taken a shot at me only he didn't kill me like he intended. I moved and the bullet sort of cut me in the back and bounced off my skull." I turned my head a little to show her. "I put some pine sap on the wound to stop the bleeding. It works pretty good."

"You haven't seen a doctor?"

"No, ma'am. It's like the law out here.

They are never around when you need them."

"But why? Why would someone try to shoot you like that?"

I shrugged. "Has to do somethin' with that ranch. Of course, there's the Burrows outfit. They want me dead but they haven't the money to hire the man who was after me. I know him and he comes high. Either somebody is ready to pay a lot of money to have me killed or he owes somebody a favor. Anyway, he tried."

A rider went by in the street, then it was quiet again. Dishes rattled in the kitchen. It was late and probably we were the last customers they'd have. Western towns were early-to-sleep towns except for the saloons and gambling houses.

"Won't he try again?"

"No, ma'am."

"You mean he's - dead?"

"In his business, in this country, a man like that makes a mistake just once."

It was quiet in the room again and we ate without speaking. "I am afraid," she said after a bit, "it is more violent out here than I believed."

"No, ma'am. Mostly this is a quiet kind of country. Good folks here, and hardworking. The people making trouble are outsiders."

"Aren't you an outsider?"

"Yes, ma'am, an' one who's fixin' to leave as soon as this ranch business gets straightened out."

"Why should that concern you?"

That was a good question. It was none of my business, except that in my pocket I had a will, and with the kind of friend she had I wasn't about to give it to her. Not yet, anyway.

We had finished eating but there was something more I wished to say. She stood up. "Thank you for your advice, Mr. Passin'." Her eyes were cool. "I do not believe we will be seeing each other again."

"I am here if you need me."

She gave me that cool, straight look again. "I shall not need you."

"You may, when they find out you own half their ranch."

"What do you mean?"

"That will she's got leaves it all to her. Like you never existed, an', ma'am? You be careful."

"I am always careful, Mr. Passin'. Now - good evening."

She turned away but I stood my ground.

"If you go out there, an' they invite you to eat, or even drink something, take my advice and don't."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't rightly know, only your uncle, Phillips, he had supper with them."

She walked outside and crossed the street to the hotel. I waited a minute, studying the street. Behind me somebody was gathering dishes from our vacated table. "Mister? We're closin' up now -"

"I know. Would you mind blowing out that lamp?"

When the room was dark I waited close to the door, then opened it very gently and stepped out into the dark.

Chapter
Seventeen

The blacksmith, a big Dutchman, had rigged some barrels out back of his place for bathing at two bits the bath. With a towel and some fresh clothing from my pack I went around to the barrels. Nobody was anywhere around, and after waiting a bit to be sure nobody was around, I took a long bath, dried off, and dressed in fresh clothes, keeping my six-shooter at hand.

The hotel room I had, if you could call it that, was shared by two other men, both of them already asleep. I went to the cot where I'd piled my gear earlier and turned in, and was up at daybreak dressing. One of the men was already gone, and the other noticed the long, red, barely healed streak along my back.

"None o' my business," he commented, "but looks like you lucked out."

"It was close."

"Healin' all right?"

"In this mountain air they heal up fast."

He was anxious to know more but too polite to ask questions and I wasn't planning to answer any. By the time I was dressed, having to take time with my shirt, and he did give me a hand there, it was already light outside.

Going past Janet's room, I slipped a note under the door:

Make them come to you.

Then I went down to breakfast, and the place was almost full of folks, most of them men. They were eating quick breakfasts and some were picking up lunch pails they'd left to be filled for the day.

There was a place empty at the end of the table near the kitchen and I sat there. Most of the men eating had guns in sight except for several who had on their diggin' clothes and were headed for a mine somewhere. There were several mines about employing men and a couple of dozen prospect holes men were working on their own.

Taking my time, I let the crowd thin out. The cook came over to fill my cup again and stood, dryin' his hands on his apron. "You stickin' around?"

My eyes reached him from under my brows. "Passin' through," I said, "sometimes it takes a while."

"I hear talk. I hear Paine and his boys been huntin' you."

"They found me a couple of times. If they're smart they'll ride off into the hills and round up some strays."

"Nobody ever said they were smart."

"A couple more days an' I'll drift."

He sat down across from me and filled a cup. "That Pinkerton feller? He was talkin' to me, figured me friendly to you."

"I hope you are."

"He said you should fight shy of those women, yonder."

I drank my coffee.

"He said you had troubles enough without them. He said I should tell you that Pan Beacham wasn't the right name, that Pan had him a brother somewheres about."

"All right. I had an idea it was something like that." I looked over at him. "You tell him that if Pan was on his list he can scratch the name."

He looked at me again, shaking his head. "You're a hard man, Passin', a hard man."

Well, I let that pass. Maybe I was, an' maybe I wasn't, only I like to be let alone and I've a bad feelin' about folks shooting at me. I don't take to it. Never did.

"A brother, you say?"

"That's right. Pan was a man who had a strong family feelin', they say. He an' his brother, do anything for one another."

"It's a good way to be." I paused, looking into my cup. "I never had a brother. No sister, either, come to that, nor much of any kinfolk." I looked over at him. "Never had anything but a few good horses."

"You still ridin' that blue roan?"

"That's a horse. That's the best of them. Him an' me, we got bad names without huntin' for 'em. I never wanted anything but the quiet of the high-up hills." I looked at him again. "Never had anything, either. Not a pot nor a window to throw it out of."

"You never had you a woman?"

"Not one to keep." I moved irritably. "Womenfolks don't see much in me.

Sometimes they look twice, then they look for somebody else. I'm a hard man, and I guess it shows."

He went back to his kitchen and I set by with what was left of my meal. This feller was a good cook and that trail crew he rode with must have been contented men. Me, I just sat there havin' no place to go and nobody wantin' me anywhere. I set there thinkin' of how a man can't always stay in the high-up hills and when the snows fall he's got to get out of the mountains before he gets snowed in. Life was about to get me snowed in. Suddenly I was tired of sleeping in a room with a bunch of other men, having no more home than the cot I slept in.

About that time Janet Le Caudy came in and with her was that Charles Pelham Clinton. They sat down well away from me although he shot me a quick, hard look, and I remembered he wore a sleeve gun up his right sleeve.

Janet kept her eyes well away from me, but in that small area there was no way I couldn't hear them talk.

"No reason why we can't settle it today." He took out a gold watch from his vest pocket and looked at it. "As a matter of fact, I will have to be leaving soon, so if I am to help you it must be today."

"All right."

"I am sure Mrs. Hollyrood is a reasonable woman. If you are a half-owner as you say, I am sure she will recognize your rights. In any event, I believe she wishes to leave. The ranch isn't quite what she expected from hearing Mr. Phillips speak of it. She had a somewhat exaggerated idea of what it might be like. I believe you could buy her out or reach some agreement."

The cook came out looking wise and refilled my cup. He also brought me a slab of pie.

"You might as well bring your things. From all I hear there will be room enough at the ranch, and there's no use to stay on here. I know," he added, "the conditions here are hardly suitable for a lady."

"I am all right. It is a nice clean room." Her voice was subdued.

"You have, I suppose" - he paused a little and tried to speak lower - "papers here to support your claim? She will be i wanting to see anything you have."

"Of course." She hesitated, and made a move as if to glance my way, but did not.

Like she had said, it was none of my business, and by mixing into it, all I'd managed was to get shot at. For a peaceful man who only wants to live in the high- up hills I was findin' all sorts of trouble. Nevertheless, I didn't like it.

She should get herself a lawyer and she shouldn't trust strangers, including me. But I wasn't tryin' to get her out to a ranch where she'd be far from anywhere.

There was some kind of a tie-up between Clinton and Mrs. Hollyrood or Matty, but I didn't know what. They were new to this country, although Clinton acted like he'd been around.

A young woman like that, there were plenty of folks around whom she could appeal to who would be glad to help, just good honest folk who would advise her and stand by.

Clinton glanced around at me, and I knew my being there was bothering him, irritating him, I should say. My eyes were on my coffee cup, apparently paying them no mind. He pushed back and got up.

"In about thirty minutes, then? You will be ready? Bring all your things."

"All right."

Was I mistaken or did she sound a mite reluctant? If she was having second thoughts she'd best have them quick.

He stood as if expecting her to rise, but she didn't. She looked up at him and said, "I'm going to have another cup of coffee, Mr. Clinton."

"Call me Pell." He hesitated, obviously wanting her out of here, but there was nothing more he could say. "All right. I'll get the team."

When he had gone, nobody spoke for a few minutes, just sitting there drinking our coffee. I wanted no more of it, but it was an excuse to stay on. She glanced my way a couple of times, then she said, almost defiantly, "I'm going out to the ranch."

"I heard."

"I just must get this settled at once. I can't afford to stay on here like this."

"Why does he want you to bring your gear? To a business meeting?"

"He knows I can't afford to stay on here so he thought I should stay at the ranch."

"With a couple of people you don't know? Who won't be too happy to find they don't own the whole ranch? Ma'am, like you said, this is none of my affair. I'm buttin' in where I'm not wanted an' you already read me off. I just wonder why they want you out there when it could be settled here, in front of witnesses?"

"It wasn't their idea. Mr. Clinton suggested it."

BOOK: Passin' Through (1985)
4.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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