The Savage Trail (14 page)

Renfrew shot out of his chair like a jumping jack on springs. He stretched out his arms in protest.

“Hell, don't do that,” he said. “We can deal. What you want for the whole kit and caboodle?”

John eased the hammer back down and lowered his pistol. He did not put it back in its holster.

“That's better,” John said.

“I can see you boys mean business,” Renfrew said.

“You don't know the half of it, Mr. Renfrew. Those two who owned these horses, along with good old Roscoe Bender, tried to kill us. They drygulched us south of town. They were hired by a man I'm hunting. A man who killed my folks and a whole lot of other people, robbed them of their gold.”

“Who might that be?” Renfrew said, stepping gingerly off the porch as if he were walking on uncracked eggs.

“A man named Ollie Hobart.”

Renfrew's face drained of color, turned a sickly pale hue as if he had been kicked in the nuts.

“Ollie Hobart?”

“That's right. If he's still in town, I aim to raise the populationof your cemetery.”

“Ollie's bad medicine, mister. But maybe you know that.”

“Yeah. He leaves a terrible taste in my mouth, Mr. Renfrew.Now, do we deal or not? We don't have all day.”

“No, I reckon not. I don't know where Hobart is. I ain't seen him in months. But I heard talk that he had some doings in Fort Laramie. Man at the saloon come through here headed that way. Name of Army Mandrake. A man as bad as they come, from what I hear.”

“A hundred dollars for both horses, saddles, bridles, the works,” John said.

“Done,” Renfrew said without hesitation. His hands were shaking when he took the reins from Ben. They were still shaking when John slid his pistol back in its holster and held out his hand for the money.

A small cloud drifted between the earth and the sun. Ben looked up, squinting against the glare.

When Renfrew counted out the money and handed it to John, Ben knew that the brief shade was as good as it was goingto get for them that day.

18

HOBART FELT UNCOMFORTABLE. HE DIDN'T LIKE BEING OUT IN THE open, so close to the fort. There were so many people around, he and his men were bound to draw attention to themselves. He was sure Mandrake had taken every precaution, but the campsite had served its purpose. It was time to move.

“Army, how long you been here?” Ollie asked.

“Three days.”

“You get a place in town like I asked you?”

“Sure did.”

“Tell me about it.”

Mandrake scooted over closer to Hobart. He stuck a cherootbetween his lips, but didn't light it. Overhead, streamers of small clouds were changing color as the sun fell away towardthe west. He glanced up, worked the cheroot from one side of his mouth to the other, and began talking.

“It's out of the way, over on the high end of town. Furnished.Owned by a little old lady who thinks I'm a drummer. Lost her husband some twenty years ago. Snake bite, I think. Rent's cheap. No neighbors. Got a stove, plenty of wood for cold nights, a good well. Made out of logs. It's even got some old gun ports that someone filled with mud and plastered over. They can be knocked out real quick.”

“What about a place in the Medicine Bows?”

“Me'n Tanner found a good place, near where them prospectors are workin'. Plenty of cover, a little spring, completelyout of sight of the road. Hard to get to. No signs of anyone bein' there. We come up on it from the back side. Didn't make no blazes, just used landmarks to make it easy to get to. We been there twice since and nobody's even come close.”

“Good.”

Hobart looked over at the Indians. They were talking in low voices among themselves. He didn't trust them. He had known Red Eagle for some years, Blue Snake even longer. But times had changed. Circumstances had changed. These men belonged on reservations, but they danced the ghost dance and believed they would one day recover their lands and all the white men would be dead or driven back into the sea.

“Does Fry know about the place in town?” Ollie asked.

“He's the one what told me about it.”

“What about Chet Newgate?”

“I don't know. Maybe. Lieutenant Newgate acted real funny last time I talked to him. Like he wanted to wash his hands of the whole deal. I wanted some supplies for the redskins and he turned me down.”

“Does he want more money? Is that it?” Ollie asked.

“I asked him that. He just shook his head. Said he didn't have none of what we wanted. I told Cap'n Jubal Fry about it, askin' if he could have a talk with Newgate.”

“And what did Fry say?”

“Said he'd look into it.”

“And did he?”

“Ain't heard back since. But he didn't act surprised. He mumbled somethin' but when I asked him what he was sayin', he just changed the subject.”

“I don't like none of it, Army. Do we have enough guns for the redskins?”

“I dunno. Red Eagle says he has twenty more braves that need rifles and pistols. I told him I wanted to see 'em, and he looked at me like I was a bug or somethin'.”

“Where in hell would he get twenty more braves? I think the bastard's lyin',” Hobart said.

“Me, too. And I don't trust Fry no more, neither.”

“Fry is the key to this whole deal. He's supposed to keep the army off our asses when we jump them miners up in Dead Horse Canyon.”

“I wouldn't count on that no more.”

“Is there something else you need to tell me, Army? Anythingyou're holdin' back?”

“I think we ought to go ahead with what we got and to hell with the soldier boys.”

Hobart scratched his chin, closed his eyes for a second, then waved a hand in the air. Army waited for some comment on his suggestion, but Hobart just bunched up his lips and shook his head as if in doubt.

“Go get Dick back here. I'll get Rosa. Let's get the hell out of here. Tell Red Eagle we'll meet up with him tomorrow night.”

“Where? He can't come into town.”

“His camp in the Medicine Bows.”

“You know where it is, Ollie?”

“Yeah. It's a lot safer than this one. I'll talk to Blue Snake, see if I can tell which way the wind's blowing.”

“I don't trust that buck,” Mandrake said.

“I don't trust Red Eagle. Not anymore.”

Mandrake swore, got to his feet. He started walking to the lookout post where Dick Tanner was standing guard. Ollie signed to Red Eagle, telling him to wait for him. He stood up and walked off in the direction he had sent Rosa and Blue Snake.

Blue Snake was pulling on a bottle of whiskey from Rosa's Cantina when Ollie walked into the small clearing. Rosa sat nearby, her skirt hiked up high, nearly to her thighs. She wore a wicked smile on her face.

Ollie walked up to Blue Snake, jerked the bottle from his hands, and drove a fist into his face. Blue Snake's eyes rolled in their sockets. Blood squirted from his nose and mouth. He fell to one side as if he were poleaxed.

Ollie turned to Rosa.

“Pull your skirt down, you whore,” he said to her.

“You do not order me,” she said, glaring at him with dark, malevolent eyes.

“Rosa, you've just about wore out your welcome. You want to lie with the bucks, I'll sell you to Red Eagle. He sure as hell would be a hero if he took you back to his camp and turned you over to his bucks.”

“You would not do such a bad thing,” she said.

“You drunk?”

“No. I gave the Indian a swallow, that is all. It is hot and I was cooling my legs.”

She pulled her skirt down and stood up, brushed herself off.

“You know what firewater does to Injuns, Rosa.”

“I know.”

“It makes 'em mean. Makes 'em want to go on the warpath. You ought to know better.”

“You leave me alone with this
Indio
. I am not good enough for you to keep me by your side when you talk. I give the
Indio
a drink. What is so bad about that?”

Ollie walked over to her, drew his arm back, and slapped her on the cheek. She gasped and staggered backward. Her hand went to her face. Tears filled her eyes. She opened her mouth. He clamped it shut.

“You scream, Rosa, or you say one damned word and I'll beat you to within an inch of your life and leave you to the buck. Now get on your horse. We're ridin' out of here.”

Ollie took his hand away. Rosa wiped the tears from her face with her sleeve.

“Wh-where do we go?” she asked.

“Into town. But you're on a short leash, Rosa. You got that?”

“You are a cruel man, Ollie Hobart,” she said.

“Rosa, you don't know what mean is yet.”

There was a dirty towel on the ground. Ollie stooped over, picked it up, and wrapped the whiskey bottle in it. He put the bottle back in Rosa's saddlebag as she was untying her horse's reins from a small juniper bush. Then he walked over to Blue Snake, grabbed him by the braid, and jerked the brave to his feet.

“No drink firewater,” he said to Blue Snake.

Blue Snake just glared at him.

“Go back,” Ollie said, gesturing toward the camp.

Blue Snake dropped a hand to the butt of his pistol.

“You draw that pistol, Blue, I'll gut you like a fish.”

The Indian's eyes narrowed, then widened. But he dropped his hand away from his pistol and started walking back to the camp.

“Un dia,”
Rosa muttered under her breath,
“voy a cortar sus juevos de su cuerpo y tirar a los puercos.”
Ollie didn't hear her, and if he did, he wouldn't have understood the Spanish.She had said that one day she would castrate him and throw his balls to the hogs.

CAMP WAS BREAKING UP WHEN THEY GOT BACK. ARMY HAD returned with Dick Tanner, and the Indians were retrieving their horses.

“I'm glad to get out of here,” Tanner said. “I got dents in my back from sleepin' on rocks. Army says we're going into town.”

“Soon as that sun sets,” Ollie said. “And we're going in separate-like. Not in a bunch. Dick, you take Rosa to the hideout.I'll ride in with Army since he knows the way.”

Dick pulled himself into the saddle. Ollie mounted up.

“What did you do to Blue Snake?” Army asked.

“I weaned him from the whiskey,” Ollie said, darting an angry glance at Rosa. She turned her head away from him.

The sun had set behind the mountains. Long shadows painted the land, puddled up under trees. A cool wind sprang up, riffled through the pines, dislodging cones that fell soft atop the brown pine needles. The blue drained from the sky in the east and the high clouds turned pale pink, with edges bright as smelted silver.

“I go with Tanner?” Rosa asked.

“Yes,” Ollie replied.

“Where do we go? To a hotel?”

“A house,” Ollie said. “You just do what Dick says. Dick, if she gives you any trouble, knock her in the head with the butt of your pistol.”

“Aw, Ollie, she's a woman.”

“Don't argue with me, Dick. She was about to let Blue Snake put the boots to her.”

“Do not talk about me like that, Ollie,” Rosa said. “I am a good woman.”

“We'll see about that, Rosa. Now git, the both of you.”

He watched as Rosa and Dick took one of the paths down to the flat. Soon, they disappeared. Ollie and Army were alone.

“You shouldn't have brought that Mex with you, Ollie. She's already trouble. I smelled whiskey on Blue Snake's breath. Whiskey and blood where you broke his nose. I think you maybe got an enemy there.”

“Where did you get the idea that any of these redskins weren't my enemy, Army?”

“I dunno. You been friends with Red Eagle a long time.”

“Army, I ain't got no friends. And if I did, it wouldn't be no red nigger.”

“Yeah,” Army said. He pulled himself into the saddle.

The clouds were turning to ash in a dusky sky. The wind stiffened.

“You ready to ride in, Ollie?” Army asked.

“Just take it slow. After we get to the hideout house, I want you to send Tanner in to get Fry and Newgate out there. We got to have a serious powwow or this whole operation's going to turn to shit.”

A jay squawked somewhere in the pines and there were dark holes in between the trees. A solemnity settled over the land. By the time they reached the flat, it was dark and quiet.

Like a graveyard.

19

Ben cut into his steak as if preparing to dine on his last meal. Watery blood trickled onto his plate from the partially done center of the meat. He forked a bite into his mouth and chewed it until it was small enough to swallow.

“I almost heard that one moo when you touched a knife to it, Ben,” John said.

“I like my beef almost raw.”

“To grow hair on your chest?”

“You could use a little on yours, sonny.”

“I like my meat cooked. It's what separates me from the savage animal.”

“Nothing separates you from the savage animal, Johnny.”

“Let's not whistle that tune again, Ben.”

John stabbed a cluster of string beans and dropped them into his mouth.

The Chaparral Café was not crowded at that hour. Two men sat at a side table against the wall; two women chatted at one near the back. Ben and John sat near the middle and felt the heat from the wood stove that was set against the other wall, behind a small counter. A Mexican woman had waited on them and now sat at the counter, saying her beads, while the cook, a skinny Mexican in his twenties, added boiling water to a sink full of plates, cups, eating utensils, a fry pan, and some bowls. A fly roamed its buzzing path overhead, finally landing on the ceiling.