Taggart (1959) (9 page)

At the same time his awareness remained with him to the extent that he realized muc
h
of what went on here. There were six rifles on the rack in the room, and a shotgu
n
as well; and several boxes covered over in a corner would be ammunition. These peopl
e
had come to stay, and to defend themselves if attacked. The canyon itself was a littl
e
stronghold, and the chances of their being found were slight.

Obviously, from their settled comfort here they had not just come, and they wer
e
planning to remain a while longer, and as no cattle were around it had to be mining.

Globe was not far south and there was mining there ... this man had found gold.

He saw no samples in the room, so it must be that Stark was no longer looking fo
r
gold; he had found it. And if it was worth staying in this country for, with tw
o
women, he had found plenty.

That, then, was why the wagon remained where it had been left, because of the women
,
and because of the gold he hoped to take out. Gold can be heavy, and he must pla
n
on taking out a lot.

"You can bed down on the floor tonight," Stark suggested. "It is the best we hav
e
to offer."

"There are other buildings. It would be best if I slept in on
e
of them . . . in fact, I'd better. I believe Shoyer is far behind, bu
t
a man can't know."

"He will not find you," Consuelo said. "Nobody find this place."

"He will find it," Taggart drew in his long legs and got up. "He's a wolf."

"You will be safe here," Consuelo said. "There is danger to go ... there are Apaches."

He gathered his gear, avoiding the promise in her eyes. "I'm obliged. "

Stark rose. "The stable is the place ... there's hay there. Although you might prefe
r
the chapel."

"A chapel is no place for me," Taggart replied dryly. "I'll take the stable."

Outside, they crossed the narrow space under the stars and went into the darknes
s
of the overhang that shelved above the stable. Taggart spread out a thin bed of ha
y
in the light from the lantern. From where he would lie he could look down the canyo
n
toward the entrance.

"That's scant hay you're using."

Taggart said quietly, "A thin bed makes a light sleeper. I've learned a hard be
d
sleeps lightly, but safely."

Adam Stark knocked out his pipe on the outside of the door. "If you want to sta
y
on, you're welcome. It's a trying thing to work and worry about this place, althoug
h
the girls are both handy with guns."

"And Shoyer?"

"Your problem. I'd be offering you nothing but shelter here, and a place to res
t
up. If you make no tracks, Shoyer can find none. "

Taggart stepped outside and went to his horse, who stood near the pool of water.

He had not cared for the horse until he knew he was staying on ... a man might hav
e
to travel fast, and he knew the steeldust would drink. Now he stripped off the saddl
e
and bridle and while the big gelding stood patiently, chewing at a bundle of ha
y
Stark dropped for him, Taggart rubbed the horse down with handfuls of hay.

"You've a neat place here." "I found it."

"Old Spanish stonework. I've seen it before."

"The Lost Mine of the Padres," Stark said briefly. Only the padres never found i
t
... I have."

"I'm not a mining man," Taggart said, "although I've worked mines off and on fo
r
others. Started using a single- or doublejack when I was a kid. I'm a cattleman."

"Own a ranch?"

Swante Taggart stared bleakly into the night, remembering the cabin in New Mexico
,
the green meadows of hay, the cattle. "I did," he said. "A big outfit moved in an
d
there was trouble. "

"Gun trouble?"

"A fair fight, but I beat the wrong man. Now Shoyer is after me. "

It happened ... Adam Stark knew it had happened more than once. It was the day o
f
the cattle baron, not of the small rancher or farmer ... but he wanted cattle himself.

"I'm no miner, myself," Stark admitted. "Studied geology a little, prospected some.

It's cattle I want, and I've a place in mind down Tucson way."

"A man needs water. If he has water he has it all. Longhorns will make a living almos
t
anywhere if they can find water within three days' walk. "

"Lots of water on this place I have in mind," Stark said. "Four good water-hole
s
and a small stream. No place on the outfit is more than four miles from water."

"You own it?"

"I can buy it ... that's why I'm here."

Adam Stark returned to the house, thinking about the ranch. It was a comfort to tal
k
to a man again. Woman-talk was all right, but a man needed men. Suddenly he foun
d
himself hoping Taggart would stay on, and if Shoyer came, he could settle that her
e
as well as anywhere. There was no use in a man running.

He went inside ... Connie was already in bed. Miriam sat by the candl
e
reading.

"What do you think of him?"

Miriam looked up, wondering what to say. "He's a good man, I think."

"I've been trying to remember where I heard that name, and now I know. He rode shotgu
n
on the stage out of Cheyenne to Deadwood."

"Will he stay?"

Adam Stark did not know, and said as much. He pulled off his shirt, thinking abou
t
it. If he did stay on he would be a help here, but he must not go up to the mine.

If he saw what it was like ...

He really worried very little about that mine. Anyone might try to go in there, bu
t
not one in a million would be foolish enough to swing a pick in there. He just hope
d
nobody would try it until he was safely out with the hundred thousand he wanted.

Perhaps he had been a fool to tell Taggart so much, but the man was no tenderfoo
t
and he would understand as soon as he looked around in the morning. The old arrastr
a
was still there, and no man would be fool enough to remain in such a place unles
s
he had found gold, and lots of it.

Forty miles to the north Pete Shoyer got up from behind a clump of rocks and looke
d
out over the moonlit desert. The horse was still there, standing ground-hitched a
s
he had been for the past hour. By now Shoyer was confident that no one was around.

Behind him in the arroyo where they had taken shelter lay the body of Mark Billings
,
the last man of the posse he had gathered in Crown King. Until three days ago thre
e
men had stayed with him after most of the group had turned back as they started int
o
wilder country.

The four remaining had run into a running fight with Apaches, and of the four onl
y
Shoyer remained alive.

One man had been shot from his horse, and the others had holed up in a cave and fough
t
off the Apaches through a day-long battle. At the end of the day one man was dea
d
and Billings wounded.

During the night Shoyer had slipped from under the overhang that formed their cave
,
and with Billings over his shoulder he had climbed the cliff. Shoyer was a squarel
y
built, powerful man of tremendous strength, and Billings' weight was nothing to him.

When they abandoned their horses for shelter in the cave Shoyer had been afraid the
y
would be found, but they had not. Only one was dead, killed by a stray bullet.

Pete Shoyer knew he was in trouble. In the hard life that lay behind him he had ofte
n
shaped up with trouble, but this time he knew it would require all his ingenuit
y
to escape from the Apaches, to survive, and carry on to capture Swante Taggart.

He went through the saddlebags and gathered all the food and ammunition on his ow
n
horse, as well as the extra canteen. There was a spare pistol now, and he took tha
t
and they started off.

Then the Apaches found them again, killed Billings' horse, and shot it out in a bitte
r
fight ... after which Shoyer got away again, and again took Billings with him. Bu
t
now Billings, who had done his share in that last fight, had taken two more gunshots.

When he died in the arroyo, Shoyer was left alone.

Through that day and part of the night, Pete Shoyer had waited while his water suppl
y
ran low, but the Apaches had either given up or drawn off until help was forthcoming.

He saw nothing of them, and so, leaving Billings where he had died, but taking hi
s
weapons, he mounted up and rode out.

Utilizing all his skill, he attempted to cover his tracks against pursuit, but a
t
the same time he kept pushing ahead. With grudging admiration, he realized at leas
t
part of the trouble had been arranged for him by Taggart, who had succeeded in turnin
g
attention in the direction from which he had come, and so had left Apaches to watc
h
for his pursuers.

Keeping to lower ground and losing himself in the clos
e
growing ocotillo and mesquite, Pete Shoyer worked his way south, with Rockinstra
w
Mountain looming against the sky.

On the day Swante Taggart arrived at the canyon of the chapel, Pete Shoyer knew tha
t
he himself had evaded pursuit by the Apaches, but had lost the trail of the man h
e
pursued.

He swung back and forth, casting about for the trail, but he found nothing. A mil
e
or two north of the Salt River the trail had just petered out, although for som
e
days past he had been really doubtful if the trail he followed was that of the ma
n
he sought. There were differences in the trail and he was hard put to work it ou
t
... there was an irritating feeling that he had been deceived.

After he crossed the Salt River he rode along the bank for several miles, but foun
d
no evidence that anyone had crossed it. He did find the tracks of a party of Apaches
,
at least a dozen strong, and he felt sure they were the same, now reinforced, wh
o
had fought him earlier.

Swante Taggart had disappeared. He had literally dropped off the face of the earth.

But the Apaches had not.

On a rugged shoulder of Squaw Peak, Pete Shoyer studied the terrain and fought hi
s
own problem.

He needed supplies. South of him was Globe, and if Taggart had headed south it wa
s
to Globe he would go. Meanwhile the Apaches would settle down and forget him. H
e
put his glasses back in the pack and stepped into the saddle. Only a few minute
s
later Adam Stark emerged from the canyon and started toward Rockinstraw Mountain
,
the very area Shoyer had been studying a moment before.

For a long time Shoyer stood on his look-out point and surveyed the country roun
d
him. It was broken by arroyos, and much of it was covered with desert growth. H
e
realized Taggart could be out there, perhaps only a short distance away, perhap
s
waiting to kill him.

Pete Shoyer was an officer of the law simply because it could be made to pay well.

He did not bother with small fry except for the information they could provide, an
d
his enforcement o
f
the law was devoted to those men for whom large rewards were paid.

He took no joy in killing, nor did he kill unless necessity demanded it, but he though
t
no more of killing a man than of killing a coyote, a quail, or a pack-rat. As a bo
y
in Texas he had fought Comanches, and had become a skillful sniper, as successfu
l
as any Apache at using their tactics.