Who Wants to Live Forever?

'I'm not lookin' for any trouble, Brick,' he said quietly, 'but we have our orders and I reckon we'll carry them out whether you go along or not.'

Carlos unexpectedly backed Nuney up. 'Si, señor,' he nodded. 'But if Mr. Fenwick say no, he do not wish to go, I will run the car back to town and let him get out.'

'Is Black at Casa Rita?' Fenwick inquired sourly.

'No,' Nuney replied. 'Cash is there.'

'And Frawley?'

Bill shook his head. 'Jim is at the ranch nursing his wound. He acts like a Jap rifle had ripped him to pieces.'

'What wound? Did that wolf Stevens get him?'

There was subdued mirth in Nuney's voice as he gave information. 'The little lady who used to be his boss put a pill in him for not remembering how to treat a lady. It punctured his laig and Jim is an interesting invalid, you might say. Doc Hinman figures that with careful nursing he'll continue to cumber the earth.'

'Was he shot bad?'

'Hell, no! But to listen to Jim, you'd think we had better be ordering his coffin. He squawks plenty.'

Carlos came back to the question that had been raised. 'Do I turn the car and go back to let Mr. Fenwick out?' he asked.

'I'll go to Casa Rita,' Brick decided. 'But if I don't like the layout, I won't lift a hand. I'm tired of playing Tick Black's game for him. He sits up there in the hills getting richer every year and the guys that have done his dirty work are either dead or broke. Me, I'm getting sick of it.'

Mullins was by nature a malcontent. 'That's sure enough so, Brick. We run the risk and he rakes in the dough.'

'Not all of it,' Nuney mentioned. 'On this deal there is a cut-in for us.'

'What is the deal?' Fenwick asked sullenly. 'I'm not reaching in to pull something sight unseen out of a grab bag.'

'Some dude beef is coming into Casa Rita tonight. From the J Bar outfit. We're to receive it and do some branding.'

'Where?'

'In the draw above the Montoyo Flats.'

'And after we have done that?'

'Why, I reckon we beat it back to the hills.'

Brick's jeering laughter was offensive. 'You're certainly easy, Bill.'

'Meaning what?'

'Ever hear of a fellow called Arnold, who claims he is a tenderfoot with t.b. and rides for Stevens? Well, Tick thinks he is a Government man checking up on a black market. Soon as we have done the branding, Cash will drop it gently to us that Arnold is to be bumped off. Of course that's a nice easy job, not half as hard as touching up the J Bar brand. You won't mind it a bit, Bill.'

'I won't have a thing to do with it,' Nuney said bluntly. 'I'm no killer.'

The shallow, hooded eyes of Fenwick fastened on him. 'You're too soft for this business. It takes a man with sand in his craw. I suppose yore idea would be to sit around and do nothing while this fellow gathers evidence to send you to the pen.'

Nuney flushed angrily. 'Maybe I'm not so soft as you think, Brick. Anyhow, I'm going to have a chance to toughen up. In a few days I'll be in the Marines. What killing I do will be on the level and for Uncle Sam.'

'That's nice,' Fenwick retorted with gentle malice. 'Bill is going to be a hero, boys.'

Nuney glared at him, but did not answer.

CHAPTER 26

Brand-Blotters at Work

LIKE OTHER Arizona packing plants the Gibson Company had recently cut down from three shifts to one, pending a Government adjustment of prices. The packers claimed they could not operate without loss when there was a ceiling on their product, but none on livestock. This was one of the many inevitable tangles that had to be straightened out by the agencies trying to keep living costs from getting too high.

Since the demand for meat was great, Stevens could understand how an unscrupulous operator like Jubal L. Gibson would welcome an illicit supply of beef on the hoof without inquiring too carefully from where it came. No doubt he safeguarded himself by requiring proof of ownership, though the low price of the stuff he bought from Black's dummies must make him aware of crookedness.

Both Stevens and Arnold were convinced that an examination of the packing plant's books would show no evidence of guilt. The checks paid would be normal. Refunds by Black in cash would go into Gibson's own pocket and no entry of this would appear in the books. Proof of theft must be made by an examination of the hides. Since the last raid had been nearly two weeks ago, it was very likely that the hides had already been shipped to a tannery. But there was a chance that some of them were still in the company warehouse. If it was possible, they meant to get into the building and find out.

The job of getting into the warehouse must be done by forcible entry while the night watchman was in some other part of the plant. If caught, they would face a charge of burglary.

During the day they made the acquaintance of a workman who had been employed on the graveyard shift while the company was operating at full capacity. He was quite willing to drink a couple of free beers with two amiable strangers, and from him they pumped information he did not suspect was of any importance to them. Before parting company with him, they had a mental map of the physical plant and knew the routine habits of the night watchman.

It was after midnight when they walked cut of their hotel and got into the car Hal had left parked against the curb near the side entrance. As Hal drove down the main street, a sedan pulled up to the sidewalk in front of them. Out of it stepped four men. Two of them Hal did not know, but the others were Fenwick and Mullins. Cash Polk emerged from the shadowy alley to meet them.

Hal kept going, hoping they would not be noticed and recognized. To his companion he said, 'Brick Fenwick in that car.'

Arnold's gaze was glued to the men on the sidewalk. 'I saw him. They didn't even look at us.'

'That's a break. We'll have to decide what is best to do?'

Hal swung round the next corner and halfway down the block stopped under a cottonwood in a vacant lot.

'Do you think Black sent them to kill us?' Arnold asked.

'I left Brick Fenwick under Sheriff Elbert's charge, as I told you. Black must have got him out somehow. Perhaps he gave bond. Brick is boiling mad at me, and of course Cash has been in touch with Black. They did not come here to blow their money. This town doesn't offer entertainment enough. One of two reasons brought them — either to rub us out, or to take care of a bunch of beef stuff due to arrive.'

'Or to do both,' Arnold suggested.

They agreed that whatever the rustlers had come to do would be taken care of before morning. Black was too wily an old bird to have so many of his men hanging around any longer than necessary. The best plan seemed to be to keep an eye on the hill men. Soon the object of their coming would develop. If they had in mind murder, Arnold and Stevens would try to get out of their way and avoid a clash. But if cattle were being delivered from another raid, this might be a good opportunity to gather evidence.

They drove around the block and stopped opposite the side entrance of the hotel. Arnold scouted the Black party while Hal remained in the car.

From the corner Arnold saw the automobile of the cattle thieves still standing where they had seen it stop. Several of the men were grouped beside it, possibly talking over plans. Four men got into the car. It started down the street toward the hotel.

Arnold ran back to Hal. 'They're coming this way,' he warned.

The two men waited, nerves tense. Polk might have told his confederates where Arnold and Stevens were staying and this might be the attack. As the sedan passed the street intersection without stopping, Hal drew a breath of relief. Apparently the rustlers were not just now after them.

After a few moments he started the car, without putting on the lights. They swung in back of the hill men, staying well in the rear. The lights of the sedan guided them.