"Leading to Kenton's all right," Winner muttered.
The dogs disappeared around a turn in the canyon. A shot sounded, a .44-40, Sam's mind automatically catalogued it. Then another, even while the echoes of the first shot thundered back and forth. Sam stopped his horse as did Winner. They looked at one another and then Sam dug in his spurs and shouted, "Hupl" The horse lunged ahead.
Sam rode recklessly around the turn and even prepared for what to expect, his gults knotted. The two hounds lay on the trail, not even twitching. He got off his horse fast when the hidden rifleman fired again, the bullet plucking viciously at his hat which sailed away. He yanked out his saddle gun and dove for the brush shouting, "Stay back, Alonzo!"
Alonzo Winner came into sight as the rifle spoke again. Sam heard the impact of the bullet and turned his head to see Sheriff Winner falling from his horse; the loose uncontrolled action of the body spoke of death. Sam fired at the wind-shredded powder smoke, fired until the rifle was empty, searching the rock and brush with a killing mad volley for the hidden ambusher. Anger blinded him, making him foolishly reckless.
He jammed more cartridges into the magazine, scanning the land, looking for movement. He waited, his rifle ready, and saw nothing. Impatience rode him hard. Dragging the rifle after him he crawled to Alonzo's side. The bullet had entered his chest just to the left of the shiny badge. He was dead.
Hearing a faint clink of iron on stone, Sam ran to his horse and mounted, riding low, bent to one side, spurring toward the ambush. He came around a rock, the horse blowing and snorting as Sam reined him short. He saw at a glance where the rifleman had stood to shoot, where the killer's horse waited nearby. The land ahead, broken by rock and pine, was still, silent. Sam lifted the horse into a trot, erect in the saddle, the rifle ready in one hand.
There was something ahead and he brought the horse to a walk, his nerves tense as coiled springs. He rounded a turn and stopped, swearing softly in amazement and anger. The canyon flattened out here and an earthen dam had been thrown from one side of the canyon to the other. A small lake stretched out before him and bunches of cattle stood knee-deep in water, drinking. A wave of rage shook him. Kenton had broken one of the basic laws of the range in damming the squaw.
He put his horse along the edge of the ten-acre lake, moving past the cattle. The trail ran out of the canyon and connected with the wagon road from Crossroad Corners to Kenton's ranch. From here, the road ran in a fairly straight line to the J Bar K buildings dotting the landscape in the distance. The ambusher, Sam reasoned, would have had time to off-saddle and build an alibi.
He sat his horse, staring at the group of buildings, seeing a man, tiny in the distance, come from the barn and walk toward the big house. To Sam the man appeared to be Marv Teller, but he couldn't be sure. Sweat stood on his face and he wanted to rush down there and fight and destroy the arrogant man who'd betrayed, not only him, but every rancher in the valley.
VIII
THERE
was no hint of the emotions boiling in Sam when he tied his horse in front of Kenton's big rambling ranch house. When he reached the foot of the steps Kenton came out and leaned against the porch post.
"Well, Sam, sure glad you come to see me," he said. "Where's the kid brother?"
Sam studied him in silence. Finally, he said, "I didn't come by the wagon road, Kenton. I rode through Squaw Canyon."
Marv Teller came out of the house and stood close beside Kenton, looking at Sam with dead eyes. Kenton's face didn't change at all, but he gave Teller a quick sharp look that seemed to be a signal.
"A man's got to look out for himself, Sam," he said slowly.
"Ain't nobody else gonna do that as good as the man doing the looking."
Sam swallowed, suddenly hating this man with an even fiercer intensity. "You've changed your tune," he said evenly. "You was saying just a short time ago that we all had to stand together."
"That still goes," Kenton said quickly. "That's the only way the problem can be whipped."
Sam laughed bitterly. He shifted slightly to face Teller. "And something else, Jesse. Somebody tried to kill me last
night. Set a trap in my own house and nearly got me. Then when Alonzo Winner and I were tracking that same killer, Alonzo was shot and so were my two dogs."
Kenton's frosty gray eyes flickered. "Is that a fact, Sam?"
"You've pulled a dirty trick, Kenton," Sam said flatly. "I don't take to it. If you'd do something like that you'd do even worse. Like trying to have me killed."
"Sam, believe pie, I don't want you dead," Kenton said earnestly.
Teller said in a soft voice, "You gonna let him talk to you like that, Mr. Kenton?" His eyes didn't leave Sam's face
for a moment. His right hand rested idly on his pistol butt. "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. Somebody wants me dead, real bad. He keeps trying." He swung to face Teller. "You know anything about that?"
Teller's lead-colored eyes suddenly glittered and narrowed. He said thickly, "Get out of here," and backed away a few careful steps.
"Marv!" Kenton spoke sharply.
Teller shook his head, looked sullenly at Kenton and turned and walked back inside the house.
Kenton sighed deeply.
God,
he thought,
that was close.
Sam let his dark glance rest on Kenton. "I'm going to bring in Reno and George," he said. "I'm going to tear that dam out, Kenton. You'd better not try to stop us."
Kenton's face purpled. "You're asking for big trouble," he said, and when Sam, blinded with rage, stepped up on the porch, he called, "Marv!"
Teller came through the door drawing his gun. Sam forgot the pistol on his hip. He hooked a left into Teller's ribs and grabbed his gun hand with his right and twisted and heaved. Off balance, Teller went crashing into the wall. Sam moved in fast, possessed of a wild and burning rage. He slammed his fist in Teller's face and drove him to the end of the porch with wild swinging rights and lefts. Teller teetered on the edge of the porch and Sam hit him with all the power in his heavy shoulder. The sound was like that of
a
stick snapping. Teller's head snapped back, his feet flew up and he struck the ground with a skull-cracking thump.
Sam turned back to Kenton, his big chest rising and falling rapidly. "It's your move, Kenton," he said in a strained voice.
Kenton smiled a careful smile. He said, "We can work something out, Sam," in a careful voice.
Sam backed down from the porch and without taking his eyes off Kenton stepped to his horse and rose to the saddle. He rode sideways in the saddle, watching Kenton leap to the ground and bend over Teller.
Kenton got Teller into the house while he was still unconscious. It took him ten minutes to bring the gunman to life. Teller gradually grasped that Sam Harden had beaten him unmercifully. His first words, delivered in a thin, mean whine: "I'll kill him, I'll kill him!"
Kenton lighted his cigar. "I wasn't funning, Marv.
I
don't want him dead. Not yet."
"Don't try to keep me from itl"
"You'll get your chance," Kenton said smoothly. "In the meantime, what do you think would hurt Sam Harden more than anything else?"
Teller looked at him with interest.
"That kid brother of his."
"You don't have to say another word, Mr. Kenton." Kenton smiled. "I thought you'd catch on, Marv."
They both stiffened as someone hailed the house. Kenton walked to the doorway as Clay Bassett rode up to the rail, his face cheerful.