Authors: Louis L'amour
Shoyer was aware of it, and a gleam of amusement tinged with jealousy showed in hi
s
dark eyes.
Stark got out a deck of cards and dealt solitaire. Taggart stood up and shrugge
d
into his slicker. Shoyer watched him. "You goin' some place?"
"So?" "I'll go along." Shoyer said. "You and me, we're goin' to be mighty close."
He glanced around at Stark. "How about sellin' me a horse? Then I can take this gen
t
out of here and be off your hands." Adam Stark puffed on his pipe and studied th
e
cards thoughtfully before he replied.
"No," he said, "I'll not sell you a horse. I'll lend you one when the time is righ
t
for you to move, but until then you get nothing, and if you take a horse withou
t
my permission I'll have the law on you."
"I am the law."
Stark glanced up and puffed on his pipe, then took it from his teeth. "Not to me
,
you aren't. You're a man who makes his living hunting men. Furthermore," he glance
d
at the cards, "I am not sure you have any authority in this Territory."
Pete Shoyer sat up abruptly. "I'll have you know-"
Stark lifted a hand. "Understand me. I'm not denying your right to make arre;,ts
,
but I am not sure you have that right here. If I were you I'd go very slow. I'd wan
t
to be sure wha
t
the governor of the Territory has to say about such action. As I understand it, th
e
shooting you want this man for took place in New Mexico?"
"It did."
"Been my experience," Stark said calmly, "that the Arizona folks look with some understandin
g
upon a shooting where one man is attacked by several and comes out ahead. I thin
k
you'd have a time getting this man out of Arizona."
Shoyer chuckled. "You let me worry about that. This man is wanted. I don't care wha
t
he's wanted for, or what the facts were. That's up to the judge and jury."
Swante Taggart ignored the discussion. He opened the door, and stepped out into th
e
rain. The trickle of water down the canyon floor had swelled to a fair-sized stream
,
but he sprang over it and crossed to the barn. Leading his horse to water, he sa
w
Pete Shoyer come to the door wearing a slicker. The man-hunter stood there withi
n
the shelter of the rain, watching as Taggart watered the horse and then returne
d
it to the barn, where he filled the manger with hay.
There was only a little fodder such as they would have been able to gather on th
e
hills and in the few meadows around. Only enough for a day or two. Taggart went t
o
the door of the barn and looked at the rain. The door of the house opened and Miria
m
came out and crossed to him.
They stood together watching the rain. "What are you going to do?" she asked at last.
"Stay on. I said I would, and I'm through running." "And if he tries to take you?"
"I hope he doesn't."
"He frightens me. There's something about him ... I mean, he seems indomitable, somehow.
You look at him and you can't imagine anyone or anything standing against him."
"He's done pretty well."
"If I can help, I will." She hesitated. "There's a way out of the canyon when yo
u
get back up against the mountain. A man on foot could get out of there, and if h
e
could get over behin
d
that pointed peak southeast of here . . . well, I could bring a hors
e
over there."
"Stay out of it."
"But what are you going to do?"
"Wait." The house door stood slightly open and he knew Shoyer was within, watchin
g
them. "No use hunting trouble. I'm going to sit tight and let him make his move ...
a
nd then I'll do what needs to be done."
"I think he'll try to kill you."
"His way." He leaned out to study the sky. The clouds overhead were low, heavy, bulgin
g
with rain. "What about you? What are you going to do? With your life, I mean."
She looked around at him. "What does anyone do? I'll live it as it comes."
"And when you get out of here?"
She countered with her own question. "What will you do? You've said something abou
t
a ranch ... is that just talk, or do you have plans?"
He stared gloomily into the afternoon. "I had plans. I even had a ranch, and the
n
a hard-nosed bunch came riding in from Texas and I shot myself out of it. Out o
f
my ranch and into trouble. "
He built a smoke, taking his time. "To tell you the truth, I don't know. Maybe I'l
l
stop here in Arizona, or I might go west to California. And that's as much as I know."
"Why don't you talk to Adam? He doesn't know as much about cattle as he'd like. Yo
u
two might make a team."
"Has Stark got a horse to spare? I mean to loan him?" "There's one. Not a very goo
d
horse."
"The two of us could ride out of here together. Shoyer and me ... and we could settl
e
it out there, somewhere. Get out of your hair."
"Don't do it."
The rain was letting up, although the clouds were still heavy and the water in th
e
bottom of the canyon held to a steady flow. There was a dam upstream where some o
f
it could b
e
held against dry weeks to furnish water for the horses and to bring the grass i
n
the hollow into better condition.
"I never wanted trouble with any man," Taggart said suddenly. "But if a fellow come
s
at you, what can you do?"
"I know. "
"They judge a man out here by his honesty and his courage, and it's right they should.
Most ways a man can go in this country he goes into danger, so you want a man alongsid
e
you who has guts. You don't want to start a wagon across the trails with a cowar
d
who'll quit the first time you run into trouble ... he'll get you killed.
"And if you're doing business out here, a man's word has to be good. We don't hav
e
lawyers and courts to decide, and we don't have a lot of legal nonsense to go through.
If I buy cattle from a man and he tells me he's got ten thousand head, there'd bette
r
be ten thousand head ... but there will be. No need to count 'em.
"That's why if a man is called a coward or a liar it's a shooting matter. Nobod
y
wants to associate or do business with either. Man can't afford to let folks cal
l
him either one."
Swante Taggart stepped out of the doorway and looked around at the sky. In the wes
t
the clouds were piled up against the mountains, but the wind had changed and th
e
clouds overhead were breaking up.
"There's pushy folks around this country, and if they start pushing you, you hav
e
to push back. If you don't, they'll soon push you out of the country."
They stood silent for a few minutes and then Swante Taggart said quietly, "You'
d
better say something to your brother. A man who'll hunt down and kill a man for
a
couple of hundred dollars might. decide it was worth while to kill one for a gol
d
mine."
"You think he knows?"
"He knows. He may even know where the mine is. Pete Shoyer may be a killing man bu
t
he's no fool."
Chapter
Eight.
A t daybreak Swante Taggart, wearing moccasins, slipped out of the barn where h
e
had slept and went up the canyon
,
easily finding the place of which Miriam had told him. He climbed out and from
a
vantage point behind a clump of cedar he studied the country with infinite care.
Shoyer had seen him go, but knew he was helping with the grub problem and he ha
d
seen that Taggart took no horse. And without a horse in this country a man just wa
s
not going anywhere at all. Had Shoyer known Taggart better he would not have fel
t
so sure, for the rancher was a man who had grown up hunting on foot and, like a
n
Apache, he could travel farther in a day on his feet than on a horse.
Stark believed the Apaches were still around, and Taggart was prepared to go alon
g
with Stark. Although not long in the West, Stark was an observant man, with an uncann
y
grasp and a feeling for the West and for Indians. Such a man was worth a dozen mor
e
experienced but less observing men.
Yet Stark had gone out that morning after originally planning to do nothing of th
e
kind, and Taggart was both curious and worried about the older man.
Not even the girls knew the exact location of the mine, Taggart believed, or if the
y
did they were saying nothing, but their very lack of knowledge had aroused Taggart'
s
curiosity, for Stark was a man who trusted his women folks, and if he had kept th
e
site secret from them he did so for a reason.
Swante Taggart had been doing some thinking on his own, and from his conclusion
s
it seemed likely that the mine was at least three miles and perhaps a little mor
e
from the canyon o
f
the chapel ... somewhere in the rugged country east of the Horseshoe Bend of th
e
Salt.
For half an hour he studied the terrain, but he saw no movement or evidence of life.
Then keeping to rock ledges, or stepping from stone to stone where possible, Taggar
t
worked his way across country. That several canyons emptied into the Salt from th
e
east and southeast he already knew from his observations north of the river befor
e
coming to the canyon.
He was more than two hours traveling less than four miles, for he had taken cove
r
from time to time to check both his back trail and the country around.
Everywhere the rain had washed out tracks, washed the air clean, and left the countr
y
looking fresh and new. A snake had crossed a small sand bed . . . there were th
e
tracks of a lizard, and a place where a covey of quail had raced along the groun
d
in a wide group. Otherwise, he saw no tracks of any kind.
He heard the sound of a pick before he located Stark. When he heard the sound h
e
took cover and looked about for the mine, but he saw nothing that even faintly resemble
d
a working of any kind. The sound had momentarily stopped, and he lay still.
To the south of him and a little west was a pinnacle of rock that loomed up lik
e
a beckoning finger, and the mountainside sloped steeply away below it. Taking hi
s
Winchester in hand, Taggart started down the slope, and then he heard the sound o
f
the pick again. A blow . . . another blow.
Swante Taggart paused and felt a sudden prickling along his scalp. He had heard
a
faint stirring in the rock such as one heard sometimes in the stope of a mine. Th
e
sound was similar to that of timber taking weight deep underground, and it was
a
sound he had never liked.
He went on down the slope and paused again. Before him the pinnacle of rock leane
d
ever so slightly down slope. At the very base of it a deep notch had been cut int
o
the underpinning of the pinnacle.
He looked at the rock tower and saw that it was seamed with ancient cracks and cleavages.
The rock had no coherence; i
t
looked shattered and broken. As he watched, Adam Stark crawled from th
e
notch dragging a sack. When he straightened up he saw Taggart.