Collection 1999 - Beyond The Great Snow Mountains (v5.0) by Louis L’Amour Read Free Book Online Page B

other riders were silent. “Now tell me what you were doing moving cattle at midnight.”
    “I,
señor
?” Lopez’s eyes shifted right and left. “I was moving no cattle. I was in my bunk, asleep.”
    “A lie!” Ward’s tone was brutal and he moved a step nearer. “You took that black horse out again, and you an’ somebody else cut some cattle from the unbranded herd and moved them over into those mixed brands!”
    “Sleeperin’, by golly!” Baldy slapped his leg. “Sleeperin’! Why didn’t I figure that? An’ nobody ever checks that herd of mixed brands. After we’re finished here, they’ll just be left to drift back on the range from that long valley where you’re holdin’ ’em.”
    “And then these rannies could move in an’ brand the unbranded stock for themselves. Nice business.” Bud Fox dropped a hand to his six-shooter. “Do we down him, boss?”
    “Not if he talks.” Ward walked up to the Mexican, whose face was a sickly yellow now. “Lopez, who’s bossin’ this show? Tell me an’ you can go free.”
    “Let me have a hand at him!” Gallatin shoved forward, his face grim and his eyes narrow. “I’ll fix him for you!”
    “Keep out of this!” Ward snapped. “I’ll talk to you, later! I’ve a good notion you’re the other one in this mess!”
    Gallatin sprang back, his face suddenly wolfish. “Oh, you think so, do you? Well, by—” His hand swept down for his gun.
    “Stop!” Ward yelled. “Drop it or I’ll kill you!”
    Gallatin was crouching and his gun kept lifting. “Drop, nothin’!”
    Ward palmed his six-gun in a flashing movement and flame stabbed from the black muzzle. His own gun coming up too slow, Gallatin caught the lead slugs in the stomach. He gulped, then staggered slowly back, his eyes glazing, the gun slipping from nerveless fingers.
    III
    H ooves clattered and a shout went up. McQueen whirled in time to see Lopez streaking away on the horse the Mexican had just freshly saddled. Ward’s gun came up, but the rustler was in a direct line with two men on the far side of the herd, and he dared not fire.
    “Gone!” He swore. “He got plumb away.”
    Baldy Jackson reached for his bridle reins. “Boss, we’d better get at that mixed herd. Now they’ll probably move in an’ try to rustle the works. We’d better start cuttin’ her.”
    “We’re not in on any deal with Gally or the Mex,” Jensen said. “You can ask Dick Gerber. I rode for him four years.”
    Ward glanced around at them. “Either of you know their friends? Who did they see in Sotol?”
    Jensen hesitated. “Well, I reckon that Black who still rides for Gerber was the only one. They were pretty thick when they both rode for this spread. And then Villani. He worked for Gerber for a while, then left him after some trouble over a bridle, and he went to hangin’ out with Ernie Yost.”
    “That fits.” Sartain nodded. “They all run together. The same brand wears well on them. Let’s go coyote huntin’, boss.”
    Ward McQueen hesitated. That was one thing, but the cattle came first. He must at all costs protect Ruth’s cattle. “No, we’d better start workin’ that mixed herd an’ cuttin’ our unbranded stock out of it.”
    “Boss, that Mex didn’t head for Sotol,” Bud suggested. “He took out for the mountains an’ I’ve a good idea he’s more set on gettin’ safe away than tellin’ Yost what happened here. Why don’t we lay low an’ check that herd today?”
    “All right.” Jensen was facing Ward, and he motioned to the body of Gallatin. “Plant him over by those trees, will you? Before anybody sees him. And I don’t want it mentioned all day, you hear? Not in front of anybody!”
    Sartain crooked a leg around his saddle horn. “Boss, I reckon Buff Colker will be out here soon.”
    “I said
anybody
.” Ward turned to Bud. “I like your idea. We’ll start cutting the mixed herd again tomorrow. Today we’ll keep on with the branding, and tonight,” he