"ASSASSINATED, SIR, ASSASSINATED!"
A tableau of stoicism was presented as Judge Tarleton rode up and
stopped. The old planter had a gun on his hip. Railroad Ross stood like
a block of granite, looking square at the visitor. Randy stood by his
father's side. Both were armed, but no hostile gesture was made.
The young man's lips were drawn in a hard line. He knew that the
Tarleton family had merely tolerated him as Zella's suitor, because
she was the only daughter of the house, and usually had her way. His
standing there, his hope of winning Zella had long hung by a slender
thread.
What was Judge Tarleton's purpose? Would what the old planter had
to say sever that thread? Worse still, would it sever the friendly
relations between the two old families? He was not left long in doubt.
"Good morning, judge," greeted Railroad. "Won't you get down and come
in?"
"No, sir, I won't get down," returned the judge, ignoring the greeting.
"I won't go into your house now, and I don't know that I ever shall. I
came over here to get some information about the murder of my son."
As he sat there on his horse, Judge Tarleton was the personification of
family pride and resentment against a world in which any untoward thing
could happen to a Tarleton. Railroad stood calmly looking his neighbor
over, from his gray head crowned by a broad black hat, to his fine
morocco-topped boots.
Tarleton's cheeks glistened from a fresh shave. He shaved from his
temples to a line running from the mustache back to the hinge of the
jaw, and he shaved it every day. Below that line was a neatly trimmed
beard that had once been black.
The high-bridged nose and other outstanding features that marked Zella
and Ben were there. His very air and bearing bespoke the patrician.
It said plainly that he didn't know and he didn't care a hang whether
he was going to meet with hostility at the Railroad or not. When Ross
didn't speak, he rapped out:
"Well, what have you got to say?" much as if the old ranchman had been
a slave.
Railroad's face was as fixed as granite, and one expected it to break
if he opened his mouth.
"I have to say that murder is a pretty hard word to use about that
killing."
"That's what it was. Assassinated, sir, assassinated! I know my people.
No Tarleton ever turned his back in a fight. Ben was murdered. Shot in
the back by a cowardly assassin."
"That's pretty hard talk, judge. I don't think Ben was assassinated,
because there ain't any assassins in my outfit. I wish you could see
yo' way to change that word to something else."
"I'll change nothing! The boy was shot in the back. He wasn't fighting.
His gun was still in the holster and hadn't been fired. I don't charge
you with murder. I've known you a long time. You're rough, but I've
found you square. All I want is for you to tell me who killed Ben. My
sons and I will attend to the rest."
The tableau turned now. Railroad's lips were a grim line. Finally, he
spoke:
* * * * *
"I'm sorry, judge, but I don't know. You haven't asked me how this mess
came up, but I'm going to tell you. Bell Holderness and his gang comes
here to make trouble and they made it. They killed one of my boys cold.
Naturally, I and my men opened on 'em, and they run. I ain't charging
nothing against Ben. He was with the Holderness boys and when they ran,
he did, and he was killed. Who killed him, I can't say. Several of us
were shooting. They were a good distance from us, their horses were
running, and ours were running. Whoever killed him was shooting at the
crowd and happened to hit Ben."
"So, as near as you can come to it, your outfit murdered Ben?" and
Tarleton's lips curled in a silent snarl.
"No, I don't put it that way. Ben was a wild boy. He got in bad
company, and somebody in my outfit shot him. I'm sorry, for I don't
think Ben had anything against me or the Railroad outfit."
"You admit the killing then! To me and my boys it was murder, and we
have our own way of settling with murderers, whether it is one or a
hundred. Lav and Cliff wanted to come with me, but I told them no. If
you was friendly, and could explain and help us get the murderer, I
could do more alone. If you wasn't friendly, I was enough to be shot in
the back."
"That's more hard talk, judge," pleaded Railroad. "I, nor ary man in my
outfit, ain't got a thing ag'in' you and your boys. Not one of us had
anything ag'in' Ben. I've got trouble enough with the Holderness boys
'thout quarrelling with a family that's been friendly and my neighbors
for years."
"Never mind that," snapped Tarleton. "I don't feel any blame for being
friendly to you. Sometimes it takes a good many years to find people
out." Then the judge shifted his glance to Randy's set face. "You have
been treated as a friend and an equal at my house, young man. That's
past. If you come there again, you come as one of the assassins of my
son, and will be treated accordingly."
Randy winced, but didn't speak. He couldn't trust himself. Anyway,
Railroad didn't give him a chance.
"Judge Tarleton," he said, as his brows knit, "you've made yourself
pretty plain, and I don't know that talking more could do any good. If
any trouble comes up between your family and my outfit, you'll have to
start it."
"It's already up, sir!" and Tarleton whirled his horse and rode away.
"Too bad!" said Railroad to his son.
"Yes, it is too bad," admitted Randy, "but if nothing else will do
them--"
"Wait a minute, Randy. I want to say a word to all of you. Judge
Tarleton and his boys are good men--among the best in the country. I
want every one of you to keep out of trouble with them if you possibly
can without running from them. Mount and ride now, but keep your eyes
open."
Without a word, Randy mounted and rode away, with Dolly by his side,
and Sank and Con following at a little distance. They were heading
toward the round-up grounds. Randy wasn't going to wait for a further
demonstration from the Holderness gang. He was going to see what he
could find along the river, where Leck and Pate had been killed.
When they reached the round-up ground, they saw Judge Tarleton look
back, as he entered the timber on the trail that led up the river. He
wasn't a half mile ahead of them, and was riding slowly, apparently to
show that he wasn't afraid.
They rode on, entered the timber, and followed on up the trail. When a
quarter of a mile from the narrows, they heard a single shot.
"Good God! They've shot the judge!" gasped Randy, and galloped on up
the trail, with Dolly at his heels.
* * * * *
Coming out on the river bank, where they could see far ahead, they
saw a horseman, sagging in his saddle and clinging desperately to the
saddle horn. They knew it was Judge Tarleton, but as Randy quickened
his speed to go to the old planter's assistance, a gun cracked across
the river. Randy's horse reared and crashed to the earth. He rolled
free and came up behind a big cottonwood tree.
Dolly spurred his horse behind a thicket, dismounted and crept to the
river bank. Something moved in the thicket on the other side of the
stream. Dolly's carbine cracked, and a terrible yell came from the
thicket. After that, silence.
"I don't know whether you ought to have done that or not, Dolly," said
Randy. "You didn't see the man that shot at me, and you might shoot the
wrong man."
Dolly looked at him with an odd glint in his blue eyes.
"See here now, Randy. Let's you and me get this straight before we go
any further. Do we let that Holderness gang pot us, or don't we? If
we're going to fight back, I'll stay with you. If we're going to be
potted, why, I ain't ready to be potted, that's all."
"Oh, I mean to fight back and fight hard. I just want it to be in the
open."
"Well, it won't be. That gang aims to bushwhack us. Do you know what
that fellow's done for you?"
"Why, no, except that he missed me, hit my horse, and left me afoot."
"He's done a heap more than that. He's shot old Judge Tarleton, and
the Tarleton boys will lay it on the Railroad outfit. The judge saw us
following him, and if he gets home alive, which he probably will, he'll
tell 'em it was us."
"Then let me have your horse, and I'll go on and catch up with the
judge and tell him better."
"Yes, and he'd believe you, just like you'd believe the biggest
liar you ever saw in your life. Now you listen to me. You got to do
something more than just not be afraid. You got to use your head in
this mess. I been thinking. The Holderness gang ain't just trying to
square a mess that happened a hundred years ago. I don't know what
they're after, but it's something else. Had you thought of what a hell
of a long shot for a six-shooter it was from the Railroad outfit to
where that gang went into the woods and Ben Tarleton fell?"
"Why, no. What of it?"
"Well, when Sank and me was out after the remuda yesterday evening, we
met Con. He showed us where Mr. Ross and the boys turned back and it's
full two hundred yards from there to where Ben fell!"
"I don't see--"
"I don't either, but I'm guessing. I don't believe anybody hit Ben that
far with a six-shooter. I believe Bell Holderness shot Ben in the back,
as they ran away."
"Bell did! Why would Bell kill one of his own gang?"
"Ben didn't exactly belong. He wasn't that sort. Couldn't be. He
probably didn't know what the Holderness boys were up to when they
went to the round-up. Maybe he said something about the killing of
Asa. It might be, and likely was, that Bell simply figured that if Ben
was killed at your round-up, it would put the Tarletons against you,
instead of against them, as they would have been if Ben hadn't been
killed."
"Dolly, do you suppose--"
"Yes, I suppose a whole lot of things; and among 'em, I suppose we
better get your saddle off'n that dead broncho and get away from here."
* * * * *
Sank and Con had heard the shots, but misjudged the direction. They
came up just as Randy was ready to mount behind Dolly for the return to
the ranch. They all returned to the edge of the prairie. Dolly brought
a fresh mount for Randy, and then they went into a general discussion
of the situation.
Con Bates had been with the Railroad as far back as Randy could
remember. He was a typical leather face, and talked so little that
people often wondered if he was dumb. He sat on his heels, listening,
as the others talked. He heard Dolly's suggestion as to Bell Holderness
having shot Ben. He listened to everything and said nothing. Finally,
Randy turned to him.
"Con, you've been in many a mess like this. What do you think is the
best way to handle it?"
"I been in plenty of messes," growled the wrinkled old puncher, "but
none like this. They ain't no two alike. Besides that, I've never been
in one when Bell Holderness was ramrodding the other side of the fight."
"A fight's a fight, ain't it?"
"Yes. Sometimes it's a dozen. This is apt to be that kind before it's
over. I've known Bell Holderness all his life. He never made a horse
trade in his life that he didn't plan every move in it before he said a
word. When he brought his gang over here and killed Asa, he had all his
plans made. He knows now that Asa and Pate are out of the way. He knows
Railroad is too old to push the fight, and he thinks right now that he
knows what you'll do."
"I guess he's mistaken about that," said Randy, with a wintry smile,
"for I don't know myself."
"Maybe not, but you ain't done what he thought you would, and I don't
believe you will."
"What was that?"
"He thought you'd go to Willow Mills and get drunk, and he'd pick a
quarrel with you and kill you. Likely he still thinks so."
Randy shot a glance at Dolly, and then:
"He'll miss his guess, if he does. I may go to Willow Mills, but if
Bell, or anybody else kills me, he'll kill me sober, and I'll be at the
killing."
They rode south, up the hill, and out onto the prairie. The four
of them were not together all the time. When noon came, Randy and
Dolly stopped under a lone hackberry tree, where they could see a
considerable distance in every direction. They took the lunch from
their saddle pockets and ate it. Randy was silent and thoughtful. At
last he spoke:
* * * * *
"Dolly, you look like a boy, but I know you're a lot older than I am.
Anyway, you've been a man longer, for I never was a man until you
pulled me out of the Cottonwood and made a man of me. I need help
badly. We can't just sit still until they push us over."
"No, I reckon not," grinned Dolly, "but I got a picture of the one that
pushes you over while you're still alive. You're so damn fightin' mad
right now, Randy, that yore boots are scorching, and you don't know
what's the matter with you. Way I look at it is this. Holderness is
ahead of the game. He's got three of the Railroad outfit. He's got Ben
Tarleton dead and the old judge shot, and got it all laid on us."
"I've proved to myself that I'm not afraid, Dolly, and now I'm ready
for anything. If I could just see a place where we could strike, and
strike hard, I'm rearing to break Bell's luck. You're right about me
being mad."
They rode on back toward the ranch late in the afternoon. They were
within half a mile of where Sank and Dolly hazed the band of cattle
over the rimrock the day of the round-up, when they saw two riders,
each leading a horse, coming in from the west.
"Why, that's Cub and Shorty. I wonder--" and Randy stopped.
"Them two and Keech and Brazos Jim went to town after the mail. I heard
Mr. Ross tell 'em to go and for four of 'em to go together."
"Another mistake," said Randy, musingly. "Looked like a dare."
"Looks to me like somebody taken it up. Let's see what they got to say.
What's happened, Shorty?"
"Nothing much," drawled the tallest puncher in the outfit, who had been
dubbed Shorty. "We rides into town a little after noon. Cub and me goes
to the post office, and Keech and Brazos went over to the Cottonwood
to wait for us. When we got to the Cottonwood, Keech was layin' on the
floor dead, and Brazos, he was down and bleedin'.
"As we stepped in to the place two guns went into our faces, and we was
kindly invited to reach for the sky. We reached. Behind one of them
guns was Lav Tarleton, and behind the other was Bell Holderness."
"No!"
"Yes, and a right smart of it. Then we got some news. We found out that
the whole Railroad outfit confessed to murder. We found out just what
we were. We found out that you, Randy, shot old Judge Tarleton in the
back. Then we got turned loose, without our guns, to bring the glad
tidings that unless Railroad--I mean Mr. Ross--would give up Randy and
the man that kilt Ben, they was goin' to be war."
"'Bout thirty days late with that news," said Dolly. "Everybody that
ain't blind or crazy, knew it all."
"What did they kill Keech and Brazos for?" asked Randy.
"Not a thing in the world. Keech killed one of Bell's gang, and Brazos
two. That was all. We heard the shooting, and thought it was just in
fun--but it wasn't."
"Where did Bell and Lav go?" asked Randy.
"They shooed us down the lane as far as the big house. Then they turned
us loose to drift, and they went in the house."
"In the house! Bell Holderness went in Tarleton's house?"
It was what Holderness had been trying to get the right to do, ever
since Zella became grown. Randy's world was falling about his ears.