Slaughter's way (5 page)

Chisum was licked and he knew it. Although he never wore a gun and had successfully avoided joining either side during the war, he had a fighting man's eye and knew when a position was so impossible that surrender must be the only answer. Knowing his men, he doubted if they would try to force a crossing in the face of the J.S. rifles; even if he risked giving the order and chanced his herd being stampeded and scattered to hell-and-gone during the shootiDg.

**Cut 'em out as they cross!'' he spat out and his face twisted in anger. ''And if you see that runty, scar-faced cow thief, tell him to dig himself a big hole and bury himself afore I find him/'

Chewing on the butt of his cigar, Slaughter watched Chisum start to turn the horse toward his approaching herd.

"Stay here, Mr. Chisum," he said. "Just to keep things friendly."

Again he ordered instead of asking and again Chis-um obeyed. Whether he planned trying anything in an attempt to break the deadlock is a matter of conjecture. One thing was for sure. John Slaughter had no intention of giving the Cattle Bang a chance to get among his men and make any trouble.

While watching the two wagons roll across, Slaughter gave a thought to the Cattle King's description of the man who had sold him the catde. There was only one small, scar-faced man in Blantyre County; or only one who Slaughter reckoned would have the gall to make such a play. Scar Taggert. He and his two brothers ran a cap-and-ball spread to the east of Slaughter's ranch. Already the Taggerts had had their warning to keep their hands off the J.S. stock and for slow elldng. It looked like they had not heeded Slaughter's words. They could be left imtil after the recovery of the cattle had been completed, but then Slaughter figured it was time he paid the Taggerts a visit.

Leaving their boss to take care of Chisum, and fol-lov^ng his orders. Trace and Alvord turned and rode back through the line of their watching friends. They disappeared over a rim and after a couple of minutes four more of the crew rode dovra to the edge of the stream, splitting into pairs and halting their horses facing each other on either side of where the Long Rail herd would come ashore. None of the men held their rifles now, but sat relaxed in their saddles. One thing each man had in common was that he rode a fine horse, one that showed an alertness and intelligence in the very way it stood.

Slowly the herd came down the slope on the south-em shore and entered the water. The stream had a gravel bottom at this point and flowed briskly, though not enough to give the cattle any fears about wading through. One advantage to the spot, from both tiie trail boss and Slaughter's point of view—^though for different reasons—^was that the herd could be brought across in line instead of each succeeding bunch needing to be hazed upstream to avoid the mud stirred up by the preceding animals as they waded through.

On drinldng their fill, the cattle came ashore on the J.S. range, passing between the two pairs of watching cowhands. The Long Rail riders cast scowling glances first at the J.S. cowhands, then toward their boss as he sat his horse at Slaughter s side. Every man of the Long Rail crew guessed what was about to happen. It seemed that Slaughter s men were fixing to cut the herd.

While Chisimi insisted that every trail herd which crossed his land be cut on entry and before leaving, the Long Rail crew never expected the same thing to happen to them. It was considered something of an insult to cut a trail herd even once; implying as it did that the men on the drive could not be trusted. That fact had never stopped Chisum, nor did it appear to be worrying Slaughter imduly.

Although Slaughter had already booted his rifle, Chisxmi did not appear to be eager to take advantage of the Texan's relaxation. Instead Chisimi sat himched in his saddle, looking as mean as hell. If his face habitually wore such an expression, Chisum would never have duped so many folks into trusting him.

Nothing happened for a time, except that the cattle came across the stream and passed between the watching men. Slaughter s hands lounged in their saddles and studied the passing animals, reading the brand each bore on its body. The Long Rail showed plain, a half-blind man could have seen it. Yet some of the cattle carried other brands. From what the four J.S. men saw, at least one in thirty of the Cattle King's herd had never seen his Bosque Grande range.

Suddenly one of the men touched his horse's flanks lightly with his heels. The horse needed no further instructions, it moved forward, heading into the herd. Swinging his horse alongside a red and white steer, the rider twitched its reins and the horse started to move into the steer, crowding it gently but surely out of the crush around it. Once clear of the herd, the steer showed a desire to get back in again. Each time it swung around, the steer foimd the fast-moving horse between it and its goal.

There were few more attractive sights than a well-trained cutting horse performing its work; nor better examples of teamwork between man and beast than existed between a cowhand and his cutting horse. Actually apart from showing the horse which animal he wanted cutting from the herd, the rider had little to do, for the horse handled the rest. Of course a man needed to be a rider of the first water if he aimed to stay afork the swiftly moving and turning horse and not be a liabiHty to the animal's working capabilities.

After cutting out the red and white steer, the rider left it clear of the herd and headed back for more. Already two of his pards were driving J.S. branded animals from the herd and the fourth man s horse working yet another out. Time after time the cowhands cut into the herd and fetched out one of the missing hundred head. The bimch on the flank of the herd grew and a couple more of Slaughters hands came down to take charge of them. The four cutters gave a masterly display of their work and even Chisum had to give them his grudging admiration.

While his men worked, John Slaughter watched and counted each head that came from the herd. The Long Rail crew kept their cattle moving, for their boss gave them no orders to the contrary. They passed through the cordon of J.S. rifles and, if aware of the fact, caused no trouble or raised no objections. While the Long Rail men took fighting pay, they much preferred that any fighting they became involved in offered as

little risk of getting injured themselves as could be arranged.

llie point of the herd went, then the swing and flank, each part contributing to the stolen hundred. At last the drags rolled by and the cutters brought out the remainder of their ranch's animals.

"One hundred and nine," Slaughter said quiedy, looking at Chisum.

T didn't count too careful last night.**

TReckon you didn't," Slaughter agreed and looked toward his men. ''Take them to petalta,'^ boys."

''Yol" replied one of the hands who held the cut-out stock.

The foiu: hands who had done the cutting out were allowing their lathered horses to cool down. No man who owned a well-trained cutting horse ever neglected it. Leaving the other tvvo men to move oflE the recovered cattle,, the four cutters walked their horses; they had done their part and now it was up to the rest of the ranch crew.

"How about the money I paid for them cattle?" Chisum yelped, watching his illegal gains walk away from him.

He was given scant consolation by Slaughter. The Texan started to turn his horse and replied, "That's your problem. They always say let the buyer beware."

Slaughter turned his horse and rode toward his men, following the hundred head away from the Long Rail's herd. While he did not think Chisum would make anything of the incident at that time. Slaughter had not failed to notice the vicious scowl on the Cattle King's face. If ever a man looked murder, Chisum had as he watched the J.S. reclaim and drive off its cattle.

With that thought in mind, Slaughter headed to where his men gathered. The J.S. hands were laughing and discussing the way they had put one over on Chis-um's Long Rail. None of them had doubted but what their boss would succeed in collecting his own, but they

^Petalta: A herd rounded up to be cut for marketable stock,

had not expected it to be so easy. While most of them regretted that Long Rail did not make a show of their much-vaunted toughness, the J.S. hands agreed that they could tell a good story against the oSier outfit. When word of what had happened got out, Long Rail would be a laughingstock throughout the range country.

*We sure showed Long Rail, boss,'* whooped one of the hands eagerly as Slau^ter rode up.

*Tou did well, real well," he repHed, for he never forgot to praise good work. **Let's get back to work.''

Slau^ter knew how the rest of the range country would treat the news of Chismn's downfall. It would not make the Cattle King feel any better disposed toward the J.S. ranch.

A signal brought Burt Alvord to Slaughter s side and the dark youngster sat silent, listening to his boss give orders few men would have liked to handle.

*Trail Long Rail, Burt," Slaughter ordered. "See them well out of our area. Stay after 'em for a couple of days if you've got anything to eat."

"Got some jerky " Alvord answered. "Enough to last me two or three days."

That figured, happen a man knew Burt Alvord. He usually carried a supply of jerked meat in his saddle pouches ready for emergency. While jerky looked hke old leather and didn't taste like steak cooked by a French chef in a fancy restaurant, it was nutritious and would keep for a fair time. Given water to drink, jerked meat to eat, and a couple of blankets which were strapped behind the saddle cantle, Burt Alvord was all set to follow the Long Rail herd for two or three days and by that time they would be well dear of Slaughter's area.

None of the other men thought of asking why Burt Alvord should be riding away from them at a time when all hands had more than enough work on their plates. While he helped with the cattle work, Alvord's main duties were in the capacity of scout. So the other men imderstood that should anything in that line crop up,

Alvord would leave the cattle work and ride to handle it. After what had just happened down by the stream, all hands figured that Alvord might be better occupied watching Long Rail than helping them to gather cattle into the petalta.

""Wash," Slaughter went on as Alvord rode oflF on the scouting mission, "Mr. Chisum allows to have bought our cattle from a runty, scar-faced gent."

"Does, huh?" Sure.

'^How many men, John?^

*'I figure you and I can tend to it, especially as T want the petalta cutting as soon as possible."

The fact that they were riding to face odds of three to two, and against a trio who would as soon shoot a man as look at him, did not appear to worry Trace or deter him from following his boss. Back just after the war, when Carpet-bag Davis's corrupt Reconstruction administration went under, Washita Trace had ridden with John Slaughter in the Texas Rangers, helping clear up the mess left by Davis's evil State Police and wipe out the criminal element Davis's men never even tried to hold in check. Diuing their time as rangers. Slaughter and Trace had smelled plenty of burned powder and felt bullets slap the air around them. Trace reckoned there was no other man he would rather have at his side than Texas John at such a moment.

Any way a man looked at it, the lead was Hable to fly when they reached the Taggert place. Cow thieves hung when captured; and the Taggert boys were unlikely to siurender without a fight. The Taggerts knew their necks were headed for a rope should they be taken in. Too many folks in the area had lost cattle, although so far the Taggerts managed to avoid having any connection with the disappearances brought home to them.

Without thinking of it, Trace dropped his right hand to feel the handle of his long-barreled Colt and he cast a glance at the butt of his rifle in the saddle boot. If trouble came, he had the means and the abihty to handle his end of it.

Slaughter told his other men to ride back to the petalta and do whatever Tex Burton decided was necessary. Then he swimg his horse and his eyes met Trace's.

**Let's go see the Taggerts/' Slaughter said.

CHAPTER FIVE

Tte Mending Of Tke Taggferts' Ways

At one time the small ranch which the three Tag-gert boys bought in on had been a pretty fair little spread, and cotild have been again if its owners cared to put time and some hard work into it. However, the Taggerts never cared for hard, or easy, work if it could be avoided; and in all truth did not buy the place with any intention of taking up permanent residence.

The Taggert brotihers possessed one good quality that many people much better favored in other ways failed to show. They never outstayed their welcome in any area. Which same meant the brothers had become tolerably well-traveled men, for any locality which was fortunate enough to be braced with their presence daroned soon got around to demanding their absence. Not that the brothers often stuck around long enough to give their neighbors time to start making demands; which quite possibly accounted for how they came to stay alive for as long as they had.

On their arrival in Blantyre County, the Taggerts looked for an ideal place to temporarily set down their roots. They wanted something not too large, reasonably central and not too well kept up by its previous owners. In this they were lucky and found an ideal place just begging for them to snap it up and put it to use. The spread's previous owner had been a footloose drifter who preferred listening to hound dogs making trail music to working cattle. In the end, after a few years of mismanagement, the man took his pack of redbone and blue-tick hounds and pulled up stakes, heading somewhere, anywhere, that his talents for hunting down stock-killing bears or cougars would be appreciated. He

left behind him a rickety log cabin, a sun-warped, dilapidated bam, a couple of partially standing corrals, a scattering of branded scrub beef and a mortgage with the local banker.

When Scar Taggert made an offer for the property, the banker jumped at the chance. The way he saw it, the hound-dog man would not be back and he hoped to retrieve some of his bank's money out of the business. It said much for Scar Taggert*s powers of persuasion that he managed to obtain the place by putting down only a small deposit. Of course, the banker had not seen the Scar s brothers. Bill and Zeke, when he had made the agreement.