Riders West. Ernest Haycox

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СКАЧАТЬ was instantly interested. "Who is he?"

      "Not sure," said Jubilee evasively and changed the subject. "While we're speakin' of being careful, you do same. If St. Cloud really takes to a hardware campaign, you'll be number one on his list. Don't forget that. You and him have been on the opposite ends of the teeter-board for a good many years."

      Bellew, not paying much attention, went out, deeply engrossed with the affairs of Helen and Pete Garcia, somberly and acutely displeased. He could not remember when they had not brought their troubles to him. He couldn't recall when he hadn't fought for the both of them. With Pete it was only a question of keeping him out of too serious trouble, for the boy was a slack and shiftless Garcia. But Helen, and the thought brought a quick upswing of pleasure, was always full of pride, always indomitably at work. To see her was to see a flash of something bright across an otherwise gray scene.

      "She's been a good soldier, with never any reward," grumbled Bellew. "She was made for something better than a slavey to a plain, no-'count family. I'm going to run Pete out of the country: If he wants to go to hell, he can do it beyond her sight."

      His feet struck the edge of the walk, and he woke from his preoccupation to find he had unconsciously turned back to the Golden Bull. Recollecting he wanted to see Townsite, he started forward. A moment later he came to a full halt in the shadows, strangely puzzled. Something happened on the edge of his vision—happened swiftly and surreptitiously. That odd movement was enough to throw him instantly against his alert and wary self. Placing his shoulders against the saloon walls, he turned his eyes to the lower and blacker half of the town.

      He saw, first, a man standing quite alone on the walk about fifty yards away. The fellow was drawn up against a porch post in an attitude of rigid attention and his face was aimed on the sheriff's office diagonally across the street. This went on for perhaps half a minute; then the man lifted an arm in apparent signal. At once a second figure came from an alley near the sheriff's office and stepped along the boards, keeping well against the building walls. All this, Bellew thought with a narrower interest, was deliberate and premeditated; the man passed Jubilee's door, looked swiftly in, not breaking his stride. A little later he arrived directly opposite Bellew, whom he apparently didn't see.

      Bellew flashed a glance back toward the first man, to discover instantly that one had faded out of the scene; and then this predatory maneuvering became clear to him. The second fellow halted near Townsite's, turned on his heels, and began to retrace his route. Bellew reached the dusty street in three long paces, coldly afraid he had come into action too late. His challenge broke across the quiet:

      "Wait a minute."

      It was, he realized, a bad place to be and a poor move to make. He stood aligned between the two—and the game was deadly serious. He recognized that before the echo of his order had quite died. The cruising man pulled to a sharp halt, evidently startled out of his set design. Taut and fine-drawn, Bellew saw the impact of that surprise congeal the man to a postured stillness—a warning stillness that hit Bellew with a chilling effect. Thinking about the fellow somewhere behind him, and thinking of Jubilee off guard in the brightly illumined office, Bellew spoke again:

      "Don't lose your head. Cut loose from your rope. Come over here."

      There was a dimming of that lamp glow flooding from Townsite's door. Somebody stepped out—this much was on the remote area of Bellew's vision. A chair scraped a floor near by. The opposing man let out a long, gusty sigh and said, "You're in the way, Bellew." His whole body was released from the cramped immobility; he leaped aside. Bellew thought distantly: "The fool is drawing on me," and brushed the skirts of his coat away from his gun's butt. A swelling roar drove all the silence of the town up beyond the housetops, and those peaked roofs seemed to come crashing down. A snake-head of dust sprang in front of him, and a hard, fierce sense of pleasure flowed along his fibers from knowing he survived the shot. He brought his weapon swiftly forward and fired twice on the plaque-like silhouette ahead, There was a tumbling rush of bodies in the Golden Bull. Jubilee was in the play now, for Jubilee's metal order beat across the street to check somebody's advance: "Get back there, you!"

      Bellew, motionless, said into space: "Careful, Jubilee, there's another one." The figure before him swayed, called weakly, "That's it, I guess." Then fell and turned shapelessly still on the dust.

      Bellew called again to Jubilee: "Watch for the other one." He walked forward, stood directly above the fallen gunman. The sleepiness of Trail was gone, and people were running up from all its quarters, to make a discreet gallery along the walks.

      "Somebody get a lantern," he muttered.

      Jubilee came back in long, unhurried strides. "I saw that other mug when I came out the door. He faded on the run. What've we got here?"

      "I walked into it," said Bellew slowly. "But it was meant for you. Bring that lantern here."

      The crowd stood back, cautious of sudden shots out of the dark. But one lantern made a gleaming, restless wake forward—that was Townsite Jackson coming up. He swung the light down against the prone body.

      "Tom Addis," said Jubilee, surprised. "What in thunder was he sore about? This is queer."

      "He and his partner were on that train," reflected Bellew. "They belonged to those saddles I saw. A nice trick. Use your head, Jubilee. He didn't have to be sore. He was obeying orders."

      "Well," mused Jubilee, "here's the end of something."

      "No," put in Townsite gravely, "the beginning of something."

      "That's right," assented Bellew. Then he added a very quiet phrase: "I'm sorry for this poor lad."

      Only Townsite and Jubilee heard that. Jubilee watched Bellew with a strangely blank expression. His arm fell lightly on Bellew's shoulder. "Might of been you, Dan."

      Bellew stared at his partner, but looked quickly away. "Solano!"

      Solano's exhausted voice came from a hidden alley. "Yeah."

      "I thought I told you to keep an eye on the station."

      "Wasn't nothing there," said Solano positively.

      Nan Avery, leaving the store, stepped directly into the full shock of it. The sound of the shooting leaped at her, the wake of a passing bullet passed across her face. Not comprehending, she did the natural thing and shrank back against the wall. Looking around, she saw the two of them planted in the street, both motionless, both speechless; and then the sense of all this went through her, actually shaking her body. The nearer man sighed, a sound more horrible than anything in her experience. He said faintly, "That's it, I guess," and fell in a wheeling, dreadful motion. After that Bellew's rapid "Watch for the other one" identified him to her for the first time.

      He came forward from the obscurity and stood with his head slightly bowed. Townsite passed with the lantern, and then Nan observed Bellew's face rather clearly. It was very sober, very calm. Other men were talking, but she paid no attention to what they said. A bit of powder smoke drifted back and left a definite taste on her palate, strengthening her feeling of physical sickness. The fallen man never moved again; he lay sprawled there without dignity, without shape, one hand stretched out in a vain reaching. It was all so merciless, so savage. The slow conversation that went on seemed to have no sympathy in it, no regret. Looking up again to Bellew and vainly hoping to find the established coldness breaking into a more humane expression, all the bitter resentment at a heartless world swept through her and found an outlet. She straightened from the wall, calling directly to Bellew:

      "You—you killer!"

      His СКАЧАТЬ