One-Man Massacre (9 page)

It was done by an ultimatum, delivered sternly.

"Have you taken leave of your senses, Captain?" the
rancher demanded, his voice outraged.

"Lower your voice, sir," Gibbons retorted, his own
temper on a very short fuse. "This is a question of prin
ciple. I'll brook no interference."

"All right, then! Keep after that fellow in there, whoever he is! I'm told you've already wounded him badly, but keep on with the hunt, Captain
—and when you've
finally killed him take your fine militia out of Scotstown
and keep it out!"

"We have an arrangement, Lord . . ."

"Had/ Do you think I could possibly go through with
any proposition if you continue? I brought you here to
clear the country of hostile Mexicans. My motives are valid. But, great God, do you think I can sponsor your
troops if this is how they work? Either withdraw from this
sorry affair immediately or go your way alone."

Rarely did Black Jack Gibbons decline a challenge, or
swallow an angry reply, but he did so now
—and for a very
practical reason. Unknown to Malcolm Lord, Gibbons'
Militia was in perilous financial condition. Its commander
had ample funds and a few lucky camp gamblers, but
some forty-odd men hadn't been paid in a month, and
the monthly payroll was a sizable four thousand dollars.
Nor, if he should lose this "commission" in the Big Bend,
would he be able to meet next month's payroll. Gibbons
needed Lord's ten thousand very badly—and whatever else he could get his hands on.

So he called off the siege of Smith's hardware store, but not without some face-saving. With Malcolm Lord
and Doc Church as intermediaries, Gibbons had him
self escorted inside the store and into the backroom where
Buchanan had been carried. There, besides the uncon
scious man, and Mulchay, he found Rosemarie MacKay,
Billy Neale, Hamlin, Macintosh, and Smith himself.

"Give up, have ye, Black Jack?" asked the belligerent
little Angus. "Or are ye just stallin' for time?"

"Be quiet, Mulchay!" Lord told him. "The captain has something he wants to say."

"I'll be brief," Gibbons said, shifting his steady glance
from the face and figure of the girl to include them all.
"You've seen fit to give aid and comfort to an enemy of mine. In this instance
—since you in the Big Bend aren't fully aware of the important services my men are render
ing the great state of Texas, the sacrifices they are mak
ing to protect your women, your children and your
property from the ravaging Mexican bands—in this in
stance I'll overlook the matter and take no reprisal.

"As for him," Gibbons went on, looking to the bloody
figure on the cot, "I can grant no such amnesty."
“Y
e mean ye'd still kill the lad?" Mulchay demanded.

"I give him safe conduct out of Scotstown," Gibbons
said. "It expires in twenty-four hours, at midnight to
morrow
—and from one minute past midnight he'll be
killed'on sight."

With that Gibbons swung on his heel and stalked out.
Lord followed Doc Church to where Buchanan lay,
looked on as the medico listened for a heartbeat.

"Rough-looking customer you got there, Doc," the rancher said, frowning. "Wouldn't want to meet him in the dark."

"Don't say such a thing," Rosemarie protested with
heat. "He's as gentle as a kitten."

"Killed two and wounded two," Lord said. "And hasn't
been in town three hours."

"And arrived unarmed, Malcolm Lord," Mulchay put
in. "Looking for a sociable drink and a little poker-
playing
until your friend the butcher turned his dogs loose on
him."

Lord paid no attention to him. "I'd advise you all," he
said, "and especially you, young lady, to get shut of this
fellow immediately. He's bad medicine, mark my
words . . ."

"Beats me," Doc Church said, breaking in. "This
horse's heart is hammering away like he was no more than
sleeping real heavy. Somebody get me some rags and a
pan of water." Rosemarie hurried off and the doctor
turned to the owner of the store. "Left my bag at home,
Tom
—mind if I borrow what I need?"

"Don't stock doctor's things, but help yourself."

Church wandered into the store proper, returned with
a paring knife, a thin chisel and long-jawed pliers. Rosemarie returned with the water and pieces she had stripped
from her petticoat.

"Billy," Church said then, "he may come to with a
roar. Think you can hold him down?"

"I'll sure try."

"And if Billy can't hold him, will somebody else stand
by to conk him out again?"

"I'll do that," Mulchay volunteered. "The laddie can
trust me to bash him gently."

Church bent to his work without further ado, and
Malcolm Lord, feeling suddenly in need of air, went out
of the place. Under the pain of the probing knife, then
the chisel, Buchanan began to stir. Church worked the
slug loose, and Buchanan groaned deep in his chest. The
pliers went into the wound, got purchase on the lead
bullet, and when Church yanked it free Buchanan rose
to a wide-eyed sitting position. He roared, as the doctor
had predicted, and his left hand clamped around the
doctor's windpipe
—all in the pure instinct of self-preser
vation. But Church was in great danger of being stran
gled, what with Mulchay's blows with the ax handle
only convincing Buchanan's brain that it was fighting for
life. It was Rosemarie, yanking the handle from Angus's
fingers, who supplied the anesthesia. Buchanan's body
went limp and his chin fell against his bare chest.

"Well, thank you," Church said when he could speak
again. "That boy can grab hold good." He was surprised to
see the girl break out into tears, and with a shrug he went
about blocking the fresh spurt of blood and bandaging
the wound. He gave the thigh his attention then, strip
ping the trouser leg-away, and made the happy discovery
that the bullet had forced its own way out of the flesh.
"Look at the leg on the fellow, would you?" he asked
admiringly. "I tell you, boys, that is sinew. Make awful
tough eating, this horse."

"Damn it, Doc," Macintosh said, "there's a female
present. And an unmarried one, to boot."

"It is a manly leg," Rosemarie said, brushing the tears
from her eyes. "And nothing to cause me embarrassment,
married or no."

"Not very fond of my patient, are you?" Church teased.

"No, not very."

"Figure to nurse him?"

"Yes."

"Well, feed him when he comes to. Underdone beef,
if you can. And make him take some whisky
—help tide him over any nerve shock. Matter of fact, think I'll pre
scribe some of that for myself. The Glasgow still doing
business?"

"My treat," Mulchay offered. "Mulchay's treat all
around." He put an arm around the shoulders of his two cronies, looked back for a moment to the girl. "Be back
soon," he told her. "We'll discuss the situation when
the lad's himself again." The old men went out, leaving
Billy Neale behind.

"What is it between you and him?" the cowboy asked.

"I don't know, Billy," Rosemarie answered.

"Kind of acting like a calf, ain't you?"

"Am I?"

"You sure are! And you sure can't be serious
—not seri
ous about taking up with some homeless drifter!"

"He has a home. And a job."

"Yeah, some home! Up in the Negras. You got any idea
what it's like up there?"

"Lonely," she said.

"Not for a wildcat, it ain't. Animals like it up there."

"Meaning Tom is no better than an animal?"

"Damn it all
—I don't relish talking about a man when
he's out and under like he is. But I got to talk sense into you before it's too late."

"Maybe you're jumping to conclusions, Billy. He told me once tonight he wasn't interested in taking me along."

"You mean you asked him? Him?"

"Ay. And he turned me down."

"Well, try me then! I wouldn't turn you down."

"That's very sweet of you, Billy."

"Is it the mountains? You figure you'd like to spend
some time up there? I'll live with you anywheres,
Rosemarie
."

The girl laughed at his earnestness.

"So I'm funny. All I am is funny."

"No, no, no! You're a sweet, goodhearted fellow. And
tonight I saw just how quick in the mind you are, rush
ing Mr. Smith back here with the keys. And brave, open
ing that door in the face of all those guns! You're not
funny, Billy Neale. You're a fine man, and some day
you'll be the biggest rancher in the Big Bend."

It was quite a speech, and he looked at her for several
moments without saying anything.

"I'm all those things, but you want him?"

She returned his steady gaze, nodding her head.

"Suppose he lives in the mountains because he's on
the dodge?"

"Oh, no, he couldn't be a criminal. I'd know that about
him in the first instant."

"All right, maybe not a criminal, but suppose he's wanted, like those gunmen wanted him tonight. What
kind of life would that be for a woman?"

"I've already told you," she said patiently. "He's turned
me down."

"But you're not going to take no for an answer. Is that
it?"

"What's all the shouting about?" the rumbling voice
of Buchanan asked, startling them both badly.

"How long you been awake?" Neale asked him gruffly.

"Awake? How long've I been out?"

"Not long enough," Rosemarie told him worriedly.
"How does your poor shoulder feel?"

"Tender. How'd I wind up here
—and where's the little
guy?"

"You're in Mr. Smith's shop," she told him. "Mr. Mul
chay is fine."

"That Captain Gibbons was here a while ago," Billy Neale said then. "He gave you what he called safe con
duct out of town."

"Yeah?"

"It's good for twenty-four hours, Gibbons said."

"Hope somebody thanked him for me."

"You gonna take it?"

"The safe conduct?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know about that," Buchanan said thought
fully. "But one thing sure
—I've got to be on my way
before any twenty-four hours . . ."

"You couldn't!" Rosemarie objected. "Not possibly,
Tom!"

He regarded the girl with a face that was expressionless,
th
en a smile broke through and he glanced at Neale.

"You have trouble gettin' this one to agree with any
thing you say?"

"With most everything."

"But of course you can't go anywhere," Rosemarie in
sisted. "Not for weeks! What in the world are you doing?"

What Buchanan was doing was rolling on his good
shoulder and pushing himself up. The girl stepped for
ward and put both hands on his chest.

"Lie back down there this instant!" she commanded.

But it was as though she weren't there as he swung his
legs over the edge of the cot.

"Lie down!" she ordered again. "You're bad wounded!"

He stood up, and even Neale watched that with open
wonder. His daddy's legends of the Territory giants of
fifty years ago were coming true before his eyes.