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somehow I hadn't noticed.
"Oursteer?Wearingyour brand?" I repeated.
"Talon, this brand's two or three years old. And you can believe it or not,
but I'm no rustler. I want every cow critter I can latch on to, buthonestly
latch on to. I'd steal from no man."
He paused. "Rossitermay believe different, an' you boys, too, but it's a
fact. I never stole a beef from any man except for range eating ... which we
all do when we're out from home."
He continued. "A couple of years back I saw this steer following one of your
cows. Now that'll happen now and again, when a calf loses its ma early and
just takes after some cow that happens to be close by. But I paid it no mind
until something else showed up a while back. Then I started to get curious,
almighty curious."
Balchheld out the patch of hide he had cut from the steer's hip. When a brand
has been reworked, with another brand burned over it, it may look all right
from the outside, but a look at the back side of the hide shows plainly what
has been done.
"Been altered, all right," I agreed."Ours to yours. There's evidence for a
hanging,Balch ."
He nodded. "Talon, I'll take an oath I didn't do it, and I'll speak for my
boys, too. I'll admit, I've hired on some rough men lately, but the boys I had
two years ago and most of them are still with me were honest as the day is
long."
Balchpaused again. "And why should I check the brand on a steer that reads to
be mine? Talon, there's somethinggoin ' on here. I don't know what it is, or
why, but somebody has been misbranding stock. Somebody had branded your cattle
to look like mine, and they've done it the other way, too."
Now I didn't likeBalch . He was a rough, hard-shouldered man who'd walk right
over you if he could, but right now I believed him.
"Looks like somebody might be trying to stir up trouble," I said. "Maybe
somebody wants us to fight."
"I thought of that."
"Maybe somebody wants to fall heir to all this range and what cattle are
left, somebody who figures he's got a lot of time."
"Maybe ... Butwho ?"
Oddly, at that moment I thought of Lisa. I did not like mysteries or puzzles,
not when they concerned my life or my work. And now we had two.
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Might they be solved the same way? After all, whowas Lisa? Where was her
family? Where was her home?
You'd think, in a big, wide-open land like this, that people wouldn't know
each other. But a ranch community is tightly knit and everybody knows
everything about each other ... or thinks they do. A stranger is spotted at
once, and nobody's quite satisfied until the stranger has been fitted into a
place in the scheme of things. Yet nobody knew anything about Lisa.
Which meant two things, at least.Lisa was new to the country, and she lived
in some remote place. Who else was there?
The major ... obviously out of the question.He had all he wanted, lived
exactly like he wanted, was the most important man in the area, both in his
own mind and that of others.
"Take some thinking," I said, after a bit. "Balch, let's keep this under our
hats. If you come up with any ideas, let me know."
Suddenly, on an inspiration, I told him how I'd been shot.Of somebody hunting
me down. "Why you?" he was puzzled.
"Some of our boys thought it was your outfit. It seems some of the folks
around have heard I was good with a gun, and they figure your boys would like
to have me out of it."
"No ... I doubt that." He looked up at me. "Talon, my boys aren't afraid of
you ... or anybody else. They've offered to brace you, bring matters to a
showdown, and I've put my thumb down on it. Talon, if somebody shot at you, it
was not one of ourbunch ."
"All right," I agreed. "You keep your lot and I'll try to keep ours.
Meanwhile, let's say nothing and see what develops. When it begins to appear
that we aren't going to fight, whoever it is may try something more drastic."
Balchheld up his hand. "All right, Talon. I'll ride with that."
He rode out of the hollow and, not being a wasteful man, I stepped down and
cut myself a few steaks before turning back to the cabin.
Now I had to talk to Joe Hinge. Fortunately, none of the Stirrup-Iron
outfitwere trouble hunters. There must be no trouble withBalch and Saddler.
All the way back to the new corral that had been put together in the brush
while I was laid up, I thought about the situation. But I came no closer to
seeing an answer.
Joe Hinge, Roper, Fuentes and Harley had done some work. Using a wide
clearing in some brush, they had fenced in the few openings and had them an
easy corral for holding stock, until it could be drifted down to the ranch. It
was a rawhide job, but it was all we needed. There were a dozen places the
cows might get out if they knew it, but we'd not leave them in there long
enough for them to make any discoveries, or even to realize they were penned.
Fuentes showed up with some cattle and we bunched them, and got them into the
corral. When we had the bars up on the crude gate, I told him aboutBalch .
"Say nothing ... not to anybody," I said. "You'll see that steer, anyway, and
you should know. Something stinks to high heaven, and I want to know what it
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is."
He rolled his cigar in his white teeth and gave me an amused look. "You do
not think I am a thief, eh? You do not think I steal cows?"
"Well," I said, "I don't know about that. I'm justbettin ' you wouldn't steal
the cows of a man you worked for." I grinned. "To tell you the truth, I don't
think you'd steal any cows. And I don't want you to shoot anybody without
reason." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]