Chapter Twelve
War Declared
Dawn had broken over the crests of the Cajons and smoke was curlingabove the cookhouse when Slim rode down on the Box B. The ranchbuildings were set almost in the shadows of the Three Soldiers, thetowering peaks looming above the huddled structures at their feet.
The foothills rose some miles behind the ranch, but the buildingsthemselves were in a broad, rich valley. A fringe of cottonwoods growingrank along a creek protected the layout from the winter winds whichswept down from the north.
The ranch house, a rambling frame structure, had once been painted gray,but wind and rain had worn this to a sickly hue. The other buildings,including the bunkhouse, the cookhouse, and the blacksmith shop, wereunpainted, their boards warped and burned by the sun.
A large corral was just below the buildings with a score of horsesinside. Beyond was a rich meadow through which the creek wandered, andthe grass there was thick and green. Stacks of hay, cut for winter use,were ranged along one side. It was an ideal layout and Slim couldunderstand the pride of Adam Marks in the Box B and its rich, rollingmiles of range land. He could understand, with the spirit of a truecowman, how a man would fight to the end to retain his possessions inthis last stand of the cattle frontier.
Slim spoke to Lightning and the sorrel quickened her pace. As he rodepast the pole corral, men poured out of the bunkhouse to watch hisapproach.
Slim pulled Lightning up several rods from the bunkhouse and surveyedthe Box B riders with a cool eye. It was easy to pick out Joe Haines,the foreman. He was a typical cowboy, head slightly bald as thoughsinged by too much exposure to the sun and face as brown as saddleleather. He could claim any age from forty to fifty, and Slim would havebeen willing to guess that he was closer to fifty. The others wereyounger, but he noticed that every one of them carried guns andwell-filled cartridge belts.
"I'm looking for Joe Haines," said Slim. "I have news for him."
"You're looking at him," said the foreman, stepping forward.
Slim leaned over in his saddle and looked into the foreman's eyes.
"Your boss was shot last night," he said.
"What's that?" demanded Joe, stunned by the words.
"Adam Marks was shot last night. His team brought him to Dirty Water andDoc Baldridge patched him up."
"How bad was he hurt?" a younger cowboy edged forward with thisquestion.
"A rifle ball creased one side of his forehead. He was unconscious for awhile, but Doc thinks he'll pull through."
"Where did it happen?" asked Haines, hitching his gun belt forward.
"Marks said it was at the mouth of Wolf coulee, wherever that is."
Joe Haines nodded.
"That's a bad place. Come on, boys. We're riding for Dirty Water."
Slim spoke quickly.
"Just a minute. I had a talk with your boss before I left town. He wantsyou to stick at the ranch and watch the cattle. Maybe this is just aruse to get you all away so the rustlers can clean out the place."
Pausing, the foreman turned back toward Slim. "Who in thunder are you?"he asked.
"Name's Evans--Slim Evans. I've been riding over on the Flying Arrow.Been hired and told to report to you for work. My pardner, Chuck Meade,is staying in Dirty Water and he's camped right beside your boss, so youwon't need to worry about anything happening to him there."
"How do I know you're telling a straight story?" countered the rangeboss.
"You've got my word for it and people don't question my word," said Slimquietly. He straightened up in his saddle and his right hand slippedalong his leg.
Joe Haines saw the move and a broad smile covered his homely features.
"No offense meant, cowboy, but we've had so much trouble I'm justnaturally suspicious of everyone who comes along. We'll take your word.Better turn your horse loose. Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes."
Slim rode down to the corral, pulled his saddle off Lightning and turnedthe sorrel loose. There was plenty of water and feed in the corral and,satisfied that his horse was all right, Slim returned to the bunkhousewhere the cowboys were finishing their morning toilets under the pump.
"Meet the gang, or what's left of them," said Haines. "Here's Pat Beals,Doug Huston and Walt Kelly."
Slim shook hands with the outfit as the breakfast bell clanged. AChinese cook, Lee Wu, brought steaming bowls of breakfast food, apitcher of black coffee, and then stacks of cakes and bacon. There waslittle conversation as the cowboys stowed away enough food to carry themthrough the day if need be.
Slim made a survey of his companions while they were eating. Pat Bealsand Walt Kelly were only a little older than himself and there was areckless glint in their eyes. Doug Huston was sandy-haired and Slim puthim down as probably thirty. His left eyelid drooped slightly and heseemed to be continually squinting. He was the least likeable of thegroup and Slim felt that he could not be trusted altogether.
Breakfast over, they gathered outside the cook house and Joe Hainesissued orders for the day.
"Pat, you and Doug ride along the west range and see how those cattlealong Stony creek are faring. Walt can trail over north and see ifeverything is all right toward the Double O. I'll take Evans and ridedown to Wolf coulee and see what happened there last night."
They started for the corral, Slim and the range boss walking together.
"Your horse fit for a full day?" asked Haines.
"She'll be all right," smiled Slim as he thought of Lightning'swonderful endurance. There was no need to tell anyone of thecapabilities of his horse.
While the others had to rope their mounts to separate them from themilling string of horses in the corral, Slim only whistled once andLightning responded instantly.
"My gosh!" exclaimed Pat Beals enviously. "You must have a circus horse.I can yell my head off and I can't get any of my mounts to come nearme."
"Maybe they don't like your voice," suggested Walt Kelly, who had justfinished a battle with a calico cayuse and was badly winded.
They swung into their saddles and started out on the day's ride, Pat andDoug heading west to ride along the headwaters of Stony creek, Waltriding north toward the range of the Double O and Slim and the foremanbacktracking along the trail to Dirty Water.
Joe Haines was openly admiring Lightning.
"Quite a horse," he said. "Must be fast?"
"She can go places," grinned Slim, but he did not encourage theconversation along that line.
"Have any trouble getting into the Creeping Shadows country?" asked theforeman.
"Why?"
"Rustling's bad here and we'd heard that the gang doing most of thedirty work had plugged up every trail coming in and were getting readyfor a final clean-up."
"I haven't been here long enough to find out what's going on," saidSlim, which was partly true. "If rustling is bad, why not appeal to thepeace officers?"
The foreman snorted. "The sheriff's on the other side of the ThreeSoldiers and he's either been bought off or is scared to death."
"How about the marshal at Dirty Water?"
Haines laughed bitterly. "Kovec's nothing but a tool for the rustlers.It's a wonder you ever got out here alive."
"I left when the town was asleep," grinned Slim.
"That town never sleeps. It's bad from top to bottom and Hal Titzell isone of the worst of them. He rides all over the country but I neverheard of him ever buying any stock to amount to anything and MaxieDenkman and Newt Bemis, who say they're helping him, are nothing buthired gunmen."
"Maxie isn't feeling so well," said Slim.
"How come?"
"Well, from what I gather, Maxie and his friend Newt must have tried tostop a couple of cowboys from riding into the valley. Seems as thoughthey picked the wrong targets and Maxie got a bullet through his arm."
"You wouldn't know who shot at Maxie, would you?" Haines asked, a broadgrin wrinkling his face.
"I might," smiled Slim, "and
then again I might not. I've got a badmemory."
"I think we're going to get along fine," said the foreman, "and I'm onlyhoping that pardner of yours is the right kind of a hombre."
"Don't worry about him. He's as steady as they make them and a dead shotwith a rifle."
"Then I'm starting to take heart again. For a while it looked like wewould be cleaned out, but with a couple of good riders who've got plentyof nerve and aren't afraid of a struggle, we'll fight this gang ofrustlers to the end."