Texas Iron (17 page)

Jubal looked around. It was mostly flat land, rocks, and clay, some Joshua trees, and black chaparral.

“If he wanted to leave us a note, where would he leave it?” he asked. “We can’t be turning over every rock and looking under
every bush.”

“It would be someplace where the sun and the rain couldn’t get at it,” Sam said.

“Also somewhere an animal wouldn’t get at it.”

“A hole, maybe,” Sam said.

“A chuck hole? Nah…” Jubal said.

“Let’s ride,” Sam said. “Maybe somethin’ll come to us.”

So they rode.

After a couple of hours they reined in and dismounted near a water hole. While the horses drank their fill they each took
a drink and topped off their canteens, doused their heads, and wet their bandanas, tying them around their necks.

“We likely to run into anybody around here?” Jubal asked.

“No,” Sam said. “Most of this clay is buckshot land, not good for much of anything. Might not even be that many jackrabbits
around here any more.”

“What about cougars?”

“Maybe,” Sam said. “The big cats know how to survive.

There’s water, and there’s rattlers, and an occasional rabbit, I guess…”

Sam’s voice trailed off suddenly, and Jubal noticed a funny look in his eyes.

“What is it?” Jubal asked. “You just thought of something, didn’t you?”

“Cougars,” Sam said.

“What about them?”

“A cougar’s lair is usually a sort of cave, the inside of a rock formation.”

“Ain’t no mountains around here, Sam.”

“No, but there’s that lair Pa and I tracked that cat to,” Sam said. “Pa would know that I’d remember that.”

“You think that’s where he left us a message? In a cougar’s lair?”

“It’s as good an idea as any,” Sam said.

“Do you remember where it was?”

“Gimme a minute,” Sam said, looking around. He wasn’t really looking around, though, as much as he was looking inside himself.

“I think I’ve got an idea,” Sam said. “Let’s mount up and try it.”

“I’m game,” Jubal said, “but what do we do if that cat is there when we get there?”

Sam grinned and mounted up.

“We’ll do just what Pa did,” Sam said. “I just hope I’m almost as good a shot as he was.”

Chapter Nineteen

John Burkett found Coffin drinking a beer, sitting alone at a table in the saloon.

Actually, Burkett wasn’t looking for Coffin, but he recognized him as soon as he entered the saloon. He bought himself a beer
and carried it over to Coffin’s table.

“Mind if I sit?”

Coffin looked up.

“Burkett, right?”

“That’s right.”

Coffin didn’t say anything after that, which John Burkett took as no objection to him sitting.

“I understand my old man gave you the go-ahead.”

“What go-ahead is that?”

“To kill Sam McCall.”

Coffin smiled a humorless smile.

“Just like that, huh?” he asked. “Kill Sam McCall.”

“Well, you can, can’t you?”

“Sure I can,” Coffins said, “and he can kill me just as easily.”

“You saying you can’t take McCall?”

“I’ll tell you what I told your father, boy,” Coffin said, “that’s what we’re going to find out.”

“What about his brothers?”

“Secondary concern.”

“Huh?”

“They are only a concern of mine if I kill McCall. If he kills me…” Coffin’s voice trailed off and he shrugged.

“What happens if Sam McCall won’t fight you?”

“He will.”

“But what if you won’t? Will you shoot him in cold blood?”

“I have never shot a man in cold blood in my life, kid.”

“I didn’t say you did,” Burkett said, “but if McCall won’t draw, that’s what it will be. If that happens you’ll go to jail.”

“I thought your old man owned the law in this town,”

Coffin said.

“Hah!” Burkett said. “My old man will be the one to insist that the sheriff arrest you. He won’t be able to let you go free
after you’ve shot Sam McCall down like a dog.”

Coffin frowned at John Burkett. He knew the kid was playing a game, but he couldn’t figure out what it was.

“What’s your angle, kid?”

“I know how to make sure Sam McCall fights you.”

“How?”

“Kill one of his brothers,” John Burkett said, “preferably the gambler, Evan.”

“Why him?”

“Because I want the other one.”

“Why?”

“That’s between him and me,” Jubal said. “Meanwhile, if you kill the other one Sam McCall will come after you.

Then when you kill him you can claim self-defense, for sure.”

Coffin stared at his beer. He knew McCall would fight him if he called him out, but there was a chance that he wouldn’t, especially
since McCall knew he was working for Burkett. Refusing to fight him would be a way for the man to give Lincoln Burkett another
headache.

“I’ll tell you what,” John Burkett said. “I’ll make it easy for you. You kill for money, right?”

“Sometimes.”

“I have some money,” Burkett said. “I’ll pay you to kill Evan McCall.”

“What?”

“How much do you want?” Burkett asked. “A hundred? Two hundred? No, a man like you would charge more than that, wouldn’t he?
What’s my father paying you for Sam McCall?”

“That’s between him and me.”

“All right,” John Burkett said, “A thousand. I’ll pay you a thousand dollars to kill Evan McCall.”

Coffin studied the young man for a few moments and then said, “Pay me up front and you have a deal.”

Burkett smiled and stood up.

“I’ll go to the bank right now.”

“I’ll be waiting right here.”

John Burkett left the saloon, happy as a kid on Christmas morning.

Sam reined in his horse, and Jubal looked at him eagerly.

“Is it near here?”

“I think so,” Sam said. “Come on, it can’t be much farther.” Jubal hoped not. Sweat was running down his back, and his shirt
was sticking to him.

“I hope there’s water near this cat’s lair,” he said, half to himself.

When John Burkett returned to the saloon he was happy to find Coffin still sitting there. It looked like he was even working
on the same beer.

Burkett approached the table and dropped a white envelope down on it. Some of the other men in the place looked over curiously,
but when they saw that whatever was taking place was happening at Coffin’s table they quickly averted their eyes.

“There’s your money,” Burkett said. “Do it…now.”

“Sam McCall’s out of town.”

“Evan McCall is over at Dude Miller’s store, mooning over Miller’s daughter.”

“She’s pretty enough to moon over,” Coffin said. “Tell me, what will you do if Evan McCall kills me?”

“That can’t happen,” John Burkett said, and then stared at Coffin and asked, “Can it?”

Coffin laughed softly and said, “Not hardly.”

“When Sam McCall comes back to town and hears that you killed his brother, he’ll come looking for you for sure.”

Coffin picked up the money, stood up and stuffed the envelope into his shirt.

“I won’t be hard to find.”

“Just a few minutes more, Evan,” Serena said, apologetically. “I’m just helping Pa with his inventory.”

“Take your time, Serena,” Evan said. “I’m not in a hurry.”

Evan was looking over some of the items on Dude Miller’s shelves when Coffin entered.

“There you are,” Coffin said.

“You looking for me?”

“I’m looking for a McCall,” Coffin said, “and I guess you’re it”

“I’m…what?”

“I’ve decided to kill a McCall today,” Coffin said, just as Serena came through the storeroom door.

“Are you crazy?” Serena asked him.

Coffin turned to her and touched his hat.

“No, ma’am,” Coffin said, “I’m just doing what has to be done.” Coffin looked at Evan and said, “I’ll be waiting for you outside,
McCall.”

“And if I don’t come out?”

“If you don’t come out,” Coffin said, “I’ll come in here and get you. If I do that, the place might get damaged. Heck, the
little lady might even get hurt.”

With that Coffin turned and walked outside. Evan took out his gun, checked the loads, and slid it back into the holster. He
eased it in and out a few times, just to be sure it wouldn’t stick.

“My God,” Serena said, “you’re not going to do it, are you?”

“Do what?” Dude Miller asked, entering the room.

“What’s going on?”

“Coffin has called Evan out,” Serena said. She looked at Evan and said, “Isn’t that what they say, he ‘called you out—?”

“I suppose so.”

“And he’s going,” Serena said to her father.

“Dude,” Evan said, “keep her inside.”

“Evan—”

“Just keep her inside. All right?”

Dude Miller nodded and said, “All right.”

Evan eased his gun in and out of his holster one more time and then walked to the door. His heart was beating so hard it sounded
like thunder in his ears.

“There it is!” Sam said. “That’s the cat’s lair.”

“Are you sure that’s it?” Jubal asked.

“Yep,” Sam said, “I recognize the rock formation.”

They both stared at the formation of rocks that amounted to a small hill. Halfway up there was a wide crack between two rocks.

“That’s where it was,” Sam said, pointing. “Halfway up.

See it?”

“I see it.”

Sam dismounted and started walking toward it.

“Sam!” Jubal called.

“What?”

“What if there’s a cat in there?”

Sam stopped short and turned to face his brother.

“You’re gettin’ smart in your old age, little brother.”

The townspeople already knew that something was happening. Coffin was standing in the street, waiting, and that was a sure
tip-off. They didn’t know who he was waiting for, but they were lining up to watch.

Evan McCall stepped out of the store onto the boardwalk and looked at Coffin. The way the town was built, neither man would
have the sun directly in his eyes when they were facing each other.

Small consolation,
Evan thought.
This is crazy. I can’t outdraw
him.
He was convinced his only chance was to draw sure and easy and make his first shot count. He knew that Coffin would get off
the first shot, he just had to hope that it wouldn’t be a fatal one. He needed time to get off one shot.

It was his only chance.

Sam and Jubal gathered up as much brush as they could find, and then they climbed the rocks together. Jubal held the brush
while Sam lit it, and when it was flaring well he tossed it into the lair, and they scrambled back down to the ground.

Sam grabbed his rifle from his saddle and they settled down to watch. If there was a big cat in there the smoke would drive
him out eventually.

“This is the way Pa did it,” Sam said, holding the rifle in both hands. When the cat came out he’d come out fast, and Sam
was going to have to be just a fraction of a second faster.

Evan walked out into the street and faced Coffin. Dude and Serena Miller moved to the window to look out.

“I thought he was gonna kill
Sam
McCall,” somebody said.

“When McCall finds out about this,” someone else said, “he’s gonna have to.”

Evan had never been in quite this situation before. He knew Sam had, many times, but most of the gunplay Evan had been involved
with had either been in saloons and gambling houses, or long distance, like the telegraph office incident. He’d never faced
a man this way before.

Hell of a time to try.

“Be ready,” Jube said.

“Shhh.”

“Just be ready—”

“I’m ready,” Sam said, “no, be quiet’there!”

They saw a streak of brown as a big cougar came shooting out of the cave. He leaped into the air in panic, trying to get down
to the ground as quickly as possible.

Sam fired, and the bullet struck the cat while it was in the air, jerked it as if it were a puppet on a string, and dropped
it to the ground, dead.

“You got it!” Jubal said, excitedly. “Just like Pa, huh?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, feeling oddly proud of himself, “just like Pa.”

Evan heard the shot and knew that he had no chance. He had just touched his gun when he felt the bullet punch him in the chest.
His entire body went numb and he stood for a moment transfixed, wondering if Coffin would fire again.

He didn’t have to.

“Evan!” Serena screamed. She avoided her father’s grasp and ran out into the street, falling to her knees by Evan McCall.

“Evan,” she said, lifting his head into her lap, but it was too late for any last words.

Evan McCall was dead.

She felt hands on her shoulder; her father was lifting her to her feet.

“Come on, Serena,” Miller said, “come inside.”

“All right,” the sheriff called, “some of you men lift the body and carry it to the undertaker’s.”

Miller had gotten Serena up onto the boardwalk when she suddenly whirled around. She didn’t have to look for Coffin, he was
still standing in the same spot.

“You’re a dead man, Coffin!” she shouted. “When Sam McCall comes back you’re a dead man, I promise you that.”

Coffin looked at Serena and although he spoke in a low voice, everyone heard what he said.

“One of us is, I promise you that, ma’am.”

Sam and Jubal waited for the brush to burn out and for the smoke to clear. It took nearly forty minutes for that, because
there wasn’t much of a breeze to help it along.

“All right,” Sam said, “let’s go in.”

“I hope there’s not another cat in there,” Jubal said as they climbed up to the lair.

“If there is,” Sam said, “the smoke killed it for sure.”

As it turned out there were three more cats inside, all cubs. Apparently, they had been too young to escape and the smoke
had killed them.

“Damn,” Sam said when he saw them.

“Couldn’t be helped, Sam,” Jubal said. “We didn’t know they was there.”

“Yeah,” Sam said, “yeah.”

Jubal was carrying a makeshift torch they had fashioned from a branch they’d found nearby and now Sam lit it with a lucifer
stick match, striking the match on his thumbnail.

“Let’s look around,” he said.

They each took one side of the lair, which was so low that they had to crouch down and, eventually, get down to their knees.

“I don’t see anything…” Jubal complained.

“Look for cracks in the wall,” Sam said, running one of his hands over the wall while he held the torch in the other.

“Wait a minute,” Jubal said, “wait—bring that torch closer.”

Sam turned and joined his brother, holding the torch as high as the ceiling would allow. The ceiling was so low they could
feel the heat of the flames.

Sam watched as Jubal tried to work his hand into a good sized crack.

“There’s something here,” he said, “but I can’t seem to—wait, wait, I’ve got it—” He pulled something from the crack and said,
“I’ve got it!”

“Let’s look at it outside,” Sam said, and started backing out.

When they got outside Sam dropped the torch and reached for the item in Jubal’s hand. It was some sort of a leather case,
the kind his father used to keep letters in.

“Open it,” Jubal said.

Sam opened it. There were no letters inside, but there was one piece of paper which had begun to yellow around the edges.
He took it out and saw the handwriting on it.

“It’s Pa’s writing,” he said.

“Are you sure?”

Sam held the letter so Jubal could look at it and they both saw the word “Pa” signed at the bottom.

“We’ve got it,” Jubal said, “but what’s it say?”

“I’ll read it out loud,” Sam said, and proceeded to do so.

After Sam read the letter they mounted up and headed back to town hell bent for leather. They wanted Evan to hear what was
in this letter, and then they would all decide exactly what they were going to do about it.