The Red River Ring (9 page)

Chapter XIII

I

“Gott-damn it! Will you look at this mess? I'd like to shoot that son-of-a-bitch Clancy myself!” Black Tom cursed as he stepped down from his mount.

“From the sign, it looks like they had only twenty or so cattle when they were hit,” Red Meadows said.

“Were there just two of them?” Black Tom asked.

“From what I see,” Meadows answered.

“The McMurphy's shot them full of holes, that's for sure,” Blake said as he rolled back the blankets covering the bodies.

“Look under their heads,” Black Tom ordered.

“What the hell for?” Blake asked.

“Do as I say, Gott-damn it!”

Blake lifted two heads by the hair and took a look. “Phew! These boys are getting ripe.”

“What do you see?”

“Nothing, just the … no, wait a minute. There's three small stones under each head.”

“Rustler's warning,” Meadows said from his horse.

“Exactly. If we didn't already know who did this, we'd know by Pommel McMurphy's signature,” Black Tom said.

“What are you driving at?” Blake asked.

“It was Pommel not his boys that came up with the three circles brand. It was all part of a system he had of controlling the range when he ran the place in the fifties. Everyone, even the Injuns, knew what it meant. Even the Rangers wouldn't question a corpse with those stones arranged under the head.”

“Why didn't someone just frame him? Kill an innocent hombre and put McMurphy's brand under the body?” Blake asked.

“A guy named Rockland did. When they found his body, two of those stones were his nuts,” Black Tom said. “I kind a wished I hadn't given ole Rocky such a notion.”

“Damn. We got us a problem,” Blake said.

“And for the sake of twenty head of scrawny beeves, Clancy, the greedy son-of-a-bitch, got some of my best riders killed and gave the McMurphys an excuse to hit us hard.”

“How so?” Blake asked.

“All of these men were riding Quick 5 brands. Whatever we do to the McMurphys, if I know Pommel, will be done right back to the Quick 5. He takes his eye for an eye business real serious like.”

“We don't back off, do we?” Blake asked.

Black Tom shook his head. “No, just the opposite. The only way we can be safe is to kill them all, every mother's son and daughter of them, especially Pommel. If we miss that bastard, it will be hell to pay for all of us.”

Bartello and Gamble rode up.

“Ah- Chi-Wa-Wa!” Bartello said. “These hombres stink a little I think.”

“Go get Segundo and Valdez and anyone else you think you need,” Black Tom ordered. “I want you to go to Silverton and take those women the same night we hit the herd. Bring them to the Roost and keep them there. Don't do nothing to them, especially the girls. I want them fresh when I take them to Mexico.”

Bartello nodded.

“I want the rest of you to gather all the riders we can muster. I figure the McMurphy's have no more than twelve or fifteen riders. I don't want one of them alive when this is over.”

“What about Fritz Blomberg?” Blake asked.

“He'll be taken care of. I've already made arrangements,” Black Tom said with a cold smile.

“Where are you going?” Blake asked.

“I'm going to Jesse Pearson's place. I figure Pac has waited about all he can stand and I want to talk to him when he pays a visit to Sulky. Now ride!”

“What about these guys?” Meadows asked.

“Let em rot. The coyotes will make short work of them. Tell the rest of the men that this is what happens when orders ain't followed,” Black Tom grimaced.

II

Fritz Blomberg hobbled into John Fellows' office without knocking and drew up a chair next to his roll top desk. Fellows leaned back in his chair and smiled.

“What can I do for you, Fritz?”

“I need to talk to you. I just had a visit with Pommel McMurphy and things aren't right.”

“Oh? How so?”

“For one thing, Pommel threatened to blow my head off because of something I said.”

“I saw him in the telegraph office. He's a rough lout for certain,” Fellow's said as he turned back to his papers.

“I jumped him about going to Pampa and threatening Colredge.”

Fellows drew his eyes up from his papers and stared at the drawers of his roll top. “So?”

“I thought you had gotten that information from Mary. He claims he never said a thing to Mary about it.”

“Then how would Mary know?”

“Does she?” Blomberg asked menacingly.

Fellows removed his reading glasses and leaned back in his chair. “What are you driving at?”

“If she doesn't know then something is very wrong. Wrong with you.”

“We've been friends for years. What is it you think I'm doing?”

“We've known all along that someone has been informing the Ring of everything we do. We knew there was a spy. I suspected it was probably one of the cowboys. I even thought Pac was guilty for a while. No one would have ever suspected you.”

“Say it. Suspected me of what?”

“Of being a spy for Colredge and Bent.”

Fellows laughed and shook his head. “Fritz, my friend, Pommel McMurphy has everyone in this town looking over his shoulder and watching his neighbors. Think about what you are saying. Think what I would be doing to Mary and her boys. What kind of man do you think I am?”

Blomberg shook his head and stared at the floor. “It is ludicrous, isn't it?”

“Listen, why don't you come over to the house for dinner? We'll ask Mary where she heard that stuff. I'll bet that Pommel did tell her and either he's crazy or testing to see what you'll do.”

“Pommel McMurphy doesn't make idle threats. He suspects me and until this is straightened out, my life isn't worth a plug nickel.”

Fellows reached into a side drawer and pulled out a small caliber bird's head butt Colt revolver. “Take this .32 then and carry it with you. At least be able to defend yourself from that buffoon.”

“What about you? What if you need it?” Blomberg asked as he accepted the revolver and checked the loads.

“I've got another just like it at home. Don't worry about me. Surely I can make it home for one more night without the need to carry a revolver.”

“Thank you. I guess you're right. That damned McMurphy has us all jumping out of our shoes.”

“He's crazy. I've told Mary that for years. For a man to do what he did to her… well, you've heard all this from me before. He's an unstable, unprincipled simpleton and we all would have been better off if she had never contacted him,” Fellows said as he patted Blomberg on the shoulder.

“You're a good friend, John. I'm sorry about all of this.”

“Reserve your apologies until after we talk to Mary tonight and get to the bottom of this. After that I'll let you buy me a brandy,” Fellows said as he helped Fritz from the chair and opened the door.

“I'll see you tonight, then,” Blomberg said.

“About eight. We're eating later than normal tonight,” Fellows said. “I'll see you then.”

Fritz hobbled down the stairway, struggling with each step while trying to manage his canes and keep hold of the rail.

“I'm going to have to move my office,” Fellows said. “I can see it's getting too difficult for you to manage.”

“I was going to talk to you about that,” Fritz said as he took another step. “I was going to suggest that we move both our offices into a ground floor area. It would be much more convenient.”

“Count on it. We'll make plans tonight.”

“Tonight then,” Fritz said as he opened the street level door.

The door closed and the hallway went dark. Fellows closed his door and returned to his desk. He started to put on his reading glasses but let them drop back to his papers. He leaned back in his chair and stared toward the window.

“Damn,” he said softly.

Chapter XIV

Reese McMurphy bolted through the door and placed two loaded Winchesters by the front door. “Something sure smells good. You gals are cooking up a storm tonight,” he said as he entered the dining room where Angie and Martha were setting the table. “Are we going formal tonight?”

“Take off your spurs and that pistol. Get yourself cleaned up,” Sarah said from the kitchen. “We're having Fritz for dinner and Mom wants us to have a nice evening together.”

“Where's John?” Reese asked.

“In the back parlor reading his paper,” Fellows called.

Reese joined Fellows and removed his spurs and gun belt. “What's Pac doing in town?” he asked loudly.

Mary stepped from the kitchen wiping her hands on her apron. “How do you know Pac's in town?”

“I saw his pinto tied at the livery. I looked for him but Saunders said he left the horse to have a loose shoe fixed and went to the Smoker. I tried there but they hadn't seen him.”

“Maybe Temple sent him in,” Fellows said as he puffed his pipe and turned a newspaper page.

“Or he snuck off. Knowing Pac, I doubt that Temple has any idea where he is,” Reese said.

“Why don't you make one more try to find him? We've plenty of food and I'd like to include him if we could,” Mary said.

“He could be anywhere. How long until dinner?” Reese asked.

“We're not eating until eight. Please,” Mary said.

“Alright, I'll see if I can find him,” Reese said as he grabbed his hat and made for the front door.

“Just try going down Main. If you don't see him, come on back,” Mary called.

Fellows lowered his paper and saw Reese's gun belt and spurs on a parlor chair. “He left without his revolver,” he said.

Mary stepped back into the parlor. “He ought to be all right. He won't be gone fifteen minutes.”

Fellows put his paper aside. “I don't know. I don't think it's a good idea. There is too much going on. I think I'll try to catch him.”

“Do as you please. Maybe you ought to be carrying one yourself,” she said mockingly.

Fellows pulled back his coat to reveal a Colt revolver in a close fitting cross draw holster. “I bought a new revolver this afternoon. Something a little bigger than the house pistol.”

Her features turned pale. “You too?” she asked.

“The way things are going, I wonder if we all should be carrying guns,” he said as he lifted the gunbelt and made for the front door.

“Are you all right?” Sarah asked as Mary entered the kitchen. “You're kind of pale.”

“Even John is wearing a gun. What is happening to this family?” she asked.

They waited for over a half hour before becoming concerned. Sarah decided to let the girls eat and went to the front window to look for the men. She saw Reese coming up the street.

“There's Reese, now,” she said.

“What about John and Fritz?” Mary asked.

“No, I don't see either one.”

Reese stepped through the door without removing his hat. “Mom, I need to talk to you.”

“What is it?”

“Where are the girls?” he asked.

“They're eating in the kitchen. It's almost 8:30.”

“Good, lets talk in the parlor.”

Sarah and Mary followed Reese into the front parlor and took seats. Reese stood by the doorway.

“Fritz Blomberg is dead. John and I found him in his office. Someone shot him in the back of the head.”

Tears formed in Mary's eyes but she did not lose her composure. “When?”

“John said he saw Fritz just before noon. His desk lamp was lit so it must have been towards sundown.”

“Did you find Pac?” Mary asked.

“No, his horse was gone when I went back to the stable. John met me with my revolver and noticed that Fritz's office light was on. We went up to see about him and found him slumped over his desk.”

“Where's John?” Mary asked.

“He's with the sheriff, swearing out a warrant against Pommel McMurphy,” Reese said bluntly.

Mary and Sarah looked up to see Reese's expression.

“Why didn't anyone tell me?” he asked sadly.

“We were going to,” Mary said. “I was waiting for the right moment.”

“In twenty years you couldn't find the right moment?”

“That's not fair,” Sarah said.

“I'm not going to argue with you two about this. I just want to know what happened.”

“It's too complicated to make sense of just now. I sent for your father because I thought you needed his help. I was going to tell you tonight after dinner.”

“John Fellows said that Fritz was afraid that Pommel was going to kill him. He was wearing the revolver that John had given him this afternoon for self-protection.”

“Why would Pommel threaten Fritz?” Mary asked.

“John said that Fritz had some information that Pommel didn't think he should have had. I don't know anything else about it.”

Mary shook her head. “I'm not saying that Pommel wouldn't shoot Fritz. Pommel would not shoot Fritz in the back of the head. No matter what he is, I know him better than that.”

“Well, John thinks he did.”

“John has always been jealous of Pommel. He lived in his shadow even though you boys thought he was dead. No matter what John did, he was always being compared with this mythical figure of your father. Temple was the worst and you younger boys followed right along. That's why I waited until you were grown before I remarried. Of course John would think the worst of him.”

“Whatever. The sheriff is riding for Three Circles tonight. They're going to arrest Pommel for that and for killing those rustlers.”

“We need to try to stop them. Pommel won't surrender and they'll be men killed,” Mary said.

“Why wouldn't he surrender? He has nothing to fear if he has an alibi,” Reese asked.

“Because he's Pommel McMurphy. I can tell you right now that force will get the sheriff nowhere except dead. Pommel might surrender to an investigation of Fritz's death but he'll never surrender for shooting rustlers.”

“I shouldn't leave. I'm supposed to stay here to protect you.”

“John can do that. You need to ride for the ranch. Warn Temple and your father.”

Reese smiled. “My father. That has a funny ring to it after all these years of thinking I didn't have one.”

She nodded. “And find out what Pac is doing. He needs to be with the rest of you or here with me.”

“No, mother. I'm sorry. I'll do this for Temple and you, even Pommel, but I will not leave my family to go looking for Pac.”

“You hate him that much?” she asked.

“No. I love Sarah and my daughters that much. Pac is out of control and you know it.” He grabbed a Winchester carbine and stepped out the door before she could respond.

Mary shook her head defiantly. “I can't stand this division.”

Sarah stood and went to the window. “That's the first time I remember Reese walking out the door without saying goodbye to me and the girls. He acted like I wasn't even here. I believe it's because I did not tell him what I knew as soon as I knew. It's all these secrets that are destroying our lives. I'm through with secrets from this day forward. Secrets may have cost me more than any rustler's bullet.”

“He said he loved you.”

“Yes, he did. I just hope he meant it.”