SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTTE
by Louis L'Amour
BANTAM BOOKS
NEW YORK TORONTO " LONDON " SYDNEY " AUCKLAND
1
 All the characters in this book are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons
living or dead is purely coincidental.
SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTTE
A Bantam Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
This book was originally published under the pseudonym "Jim Mayo"
Bantam paperback edition / May 1983
The Louis L'Amour Collection/August 1985
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©1953 by Louis & Katherine L'Amour Trust. Book design by Rene Gelman.
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2
 TO YALE
3
 SHOWDOWN AT
YELLOW BUTTE,
4
 ONE
g was quiet in Mustang. Three whole days had passed a killing. The townsfolk, knowing
their community, not fooled. They had long since resigned themselves to the
In fact, they would be relieved when the situation was to normal---a killing every
day; more on hot days. Several without deadly gunplay built up a mounting tension
that unbearable. Who would be next?
with Clay Allison, who had killed thirty men, playing over at the Morrison House,
and Black Jack Ketchum, who deserved the hanging he was soon to get, sleeping off
a at the St. James--trouble could be expected in the very future.
The walk before the St. James was now cool, and Captain Tom a stranger in town, sat
in a well-polished chair and stud the street with interested eyes.
lie was a tall young man with rusty brown hair and green quiet mannered and quick
to smile. Women never failed to twice, and when their eyes met his their hearts pounded,
a of which Tom Kedrick was totally unaware. He knew women
I
5
 Louis L'AMoUR
seemed to like him, but it never failed to leave him mildly astonished.
The street he watched was crowded with buckboards, freight wagons, a newly arrived
stage and one about to depart. All the hitch-rails were lined with saddled horses
wearing a variety .of brands.
Kedrick, suddenly aware that a young man stood beside him, glanced up. The fellow
was scarcely more than a boy and he had soft brown eyes and .hair that needed cutting.
"Cap'n Kedrick?" he inquired. "John Gunter sent me. I'm Dornie Shaw."
"Oh, yes!" Kedrick got to his feet, smiling, and thrust out his
hand. "Nice to know you, Shaw. Are you working for Gunter?"
Shaw's brown eyes were faintly ironic. "With him," he corrected. "I work for no man."
"I see."
Kedrick did not see at all, but he was prepared to wait and find
out. There was something oddly disturbing about this young man, something that had
Kedrick on edge and queerly alert. "Where's Gunter now?"
"Down the street. He asked me to cheek an' see if you were
here, an' if you were, to ask you to stick around close to the hotel.
He'll be along soon."
"All right. Sit down, why don't you?"
Shaw glanced briefly at the chairs. "I'll stand. I never sit in no
chair with arms on them. Apt to get in the way."
"In the way?" Kedrick glanced up, and then his eyes fell to the
two guns Shaw wore, their butts hanging wide. "Oh, yes! I see."
He nodded at the guns. "The town marshal doesn't object?"
Dornie Shaw looked at him, smiling slowly. "Not to me, he
don't. Wouldn't do him no good if he did."
"Anyway," he added after a minute, "not in Mustang. Too
many hard cases. I never seen a marshal could make it stick in
this town."
Kedrick smiled. "Hickok? Earp? Masterson?"
"Maybe," Dornie Shaw was openly skeptical, "but I doubt it. Allison's here. So's
Ketehum. Billy the Kid's been around, and some of that crowd. A marshal in this town
would have to be mighty fast, an' prove it ever' day.'"
6
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTTE
3
you're right." He studied Shaw surreptitiously. What it about him that was so disturbing?
Not the two guns, for he seen many men who wore guns, had been reared among
in fact. No, it was something else, some quality he could define, but it was a sort
of lurking menace, an odd feeling
such a calm-eyed young man.
got some good men," Shaw volunteered, after a min;. "Picked up a couple today. Laredo
Shad's goin' to be one of
best, I'm thinkin'. He's a tough hand, an' gun wise as all get
more come in today. Fessenden, Poinsett an' Goff."
from the manner in which he spoke, the names much to Shaw, but they meant exactly
nothing to Kedrick.
seemed to strike some sort of a responsive note but
eould not put a finger on it. His eyes strayed down the street, the crowd. "You think
they'll really fight?" he asked, the street. "Are there enough of them?" bunch?"
Shaw's voice was dry. "They'll fight, all right.
some tough boys in that outfit. Injun scrappers, an' such They won't scare worth
a durn." He glanced curiously at
"Gunter says you're a fighter."
that doubt in Shaw's voice? Kedrick smiled, then shrugged.
along. I was in the Army, if that means anything."
West before?"
I was born in California, just before the Rush. When the
out I was sixteen, but I went in with a bunch from
Stayed in a couple of years after the war, fighting Apaches!"
Shaw nodded, as if satisfied. "Gunter thinks well of you, but only one of them, an'
not the most important one." short, thi,ck-set man with a square-cut beard, that
made him
enough like General Grant to be his twin, was pushing through crowd toward them.
He even smoked a thick black cigar.
man walking beside him was tall as Kedrick, who stood an inch above six feet. He
had a sharply cut face and his eyes
cold, but th+y were the eyes of a man born to command, who could be utterly ruthless.
That would be Colonel
Keith. That meant there was still one left he had to urwick. The three were partners,
and of the three, only was from the area.
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Louis L'AMOUR
Gunter smiled quickly, his lips parting over clenched white teeth that gripped his
cigar. He thrust out his hand. "Good to see you, Kedrick! Colonel, this is our man!
If there ever was a man born to ramrod this thing through, this is the one! I told
you of that drive he mad for Patterson! Took those cattle through without losing
a head, rustlers an' Comanches be danged!"
Keith nodded, his cold eyes taking in Kedrick at a glance.
"'Captain--that was an army title, Kedrick?"
"Army. The War Between the States."
"I see. There was a Thomas Kedrick who was a sergeant in the fighting against the
Apaches."
"That was me. All of us went down some in rank after the troops were discharged."
"How much time in the war?" Keith's eyes still studied him. "Four years, and two
campaigning in the Southwest."
"Not bad. You should know what to expect in a fight." His eyes went to Kedrick's,
faintly mocking. "I have twelve years, myself. Regular army."
Kedrick found that Keith's attitude irritated him. He meant to say nothing, but suddenly
he was speaking. "'My American army experience, Colonel, was only part of the story.
I was with Bazaine, at the defense of Metz, in the Franco-Prussian War. I escaped,
and was with MacMahon at the Battle of Sedan."
Keith's eyes sharpened and his lips thinned. Kedrick could feel
the sharp dislike rising in the man.
"'Is that all?" he asked coolly.
"Why, no. Since you ask, it was not. I was with Wolseley, in the Second Ashanti War,
in Africa. And I was in the two-year campaign against the Tungans of northern T'ien
Shah--with the rank of General."
"You seem to get around a good bit," Keith said dryly, "a genuine mercenary!"
Kedrick smiled, undisturbed. "If you like. That's what you want here, isn't it? Men
who can fight? Isn't it customary for some men to hire others to do their fighting
for them?"
Colonel Keith's face flamed, then went white, but before he could speak, a big, square-faced
man thrust himself through the crowd and stopped to face them.
8
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTI'E
5
"You, is it, Gunter?" the man cried. "Well, I've heard tell the why you're here,
an' if you expect to take from hardmen the land they've slaved for, you better come
a-shootin'!" i Before anyone could speak, Dornie slid between Keith and ? i.Gunter
and fronted the man. "You lookin' for trouble? You want .start your shootin' now?"
His voice was low, almost a purr, but Kedrick was startled by shocked expression
on the man's face. He drew back, holding his hands wide. "I wasn't bracin' you, Dornie!
Didn't even know ya was around!"
i:, "Then get out!" Dornie Shaw snarled, passion suddenly break lg through his calmness,
passion, and something else, something Klriek spotted with a shock--the driving urge
to kill!
"'Get out!" Shaw repeated. "An' if you want to live, keep
Stumblingly, the man turned and ducked into the hastily ascrowd, and Tom Kedriek,
scanning their faces, found indifference there, or hatred. In no face did he see
warmth friendly feeling. He frowned thoughtfully, then turned away.
Gunter caught his arm, eager to take advantage of the break interruption had made
to bring peace between the two. "You what we're up against?" he began. "Now that
was Peters.
harmless, but there's others would have drawn, and drawn They won't be all like that!
Let's go meet Burwiek!" Kedriek fell in beside Gunter, who carefully interposed himself
the two men. Once, Tom glanced back. What had beof Dornie Shaw he did not know, but
he did know that
who was to be his second in command, was a killer. He the type from of old. i': Yet
he was disturbed more than he eared to admit by the man who had challenged them.
Peters had the look of an honest man, .,. even if not an intelligent one. Of course,
there might be honest men among them, if they were men of Peters' stripe. But Peters
.seemed to be a follower, and he might follow where the wrong men led.
Certainly, if this land was going to Gunter, Keith and Burwick :through a Government
bill, there could be nothing wrong with the deal. If the Government sold the land
to them, squatters had
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Louis L'AMoU
no rights on it. Still, if there were many like Peters the job was
not going to be all he had expected.
Gunter stopped before a square stone house set back from the street. "This here's
headquarters," he said. "We hole up here when in town. Come on in."
A wide veranda skirted the house, and as they stepped upon it
they saw a girl in a gray skirt and white blouse sitting a few feet
away with an open book in her lap. Gunter halted.
"Cap'n Kedrick, my niece, Consuelo Duane."
Their eyes met--and held. For a breathless moment no voice
was lifted. Tom Kedrick felt as though his muscles had gone dead,
for he could not move. Her own eyes were wide, startled. Kedrick recovered himself
with a start. He bowed. "Miss Duane!"
"Captain Kedrick," somehow she was on her feet and moving toward him, "I hope you'll
like it here!"
His eyes had not left hers, and now color was coming into her cheeks. "I shall!"
he said gently. "Nothing can prevent me now."
"Don't be too sure of that, Captain!" Keith's voice was sharp
and cold. "We are late for our visit. Let's be going. Your pardon, Connie. Burwick
is waiting."
Kedrick glanced back as he went through the door, and the girl
was still standing there, poised, motionless.
Keith's irritation was obvious, but Gunter seemed to have noticed nothing. Dornie
Shaw, who had materialized from somewhere, glanced briefly at Kedrick, but said no
word. Coolly, he began to roll a smoke.
10
 crouched behind a table. He was an incredibly fat and unbelievably dirty. A stubble
of graying beard covered jowls and his several chins, yet the eyes that measured
Kedrick beneath the almost hairless brows were sharp, malignant, close alongside
a nose too small for his face. His shirt was and the edge of the collar was greasy.
Rims of black marked fingernail.
glanced at the others, then back at Kedrick. "Sit down!" he "You're late! Business
won't wait!" His bulbous head swung Kedrick to Gunter. "John, this the man who'll
ramrod those off that land? This him?"
Yes, that's Kedrick," Gunter said hastily. Oddly enough, he almost frightened of
Burwick. Keith had said nothing they entered the room. Quietly, he seemed to have
withstepped momentarily from the picture. It was, Kedrick to discover, a faculty
he had when Burwick was near. "He'll the job, all right!"
Burwick turned his eyes on Kedrick after a moment. He nod"Know a good deal about
you, son!" His voice was almost
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Louis L'AMOUR
genial. "You'll do if you don't get soft with them! We've no time to waste, you understand!
They've had notice to move. Give 'em one more notice, then get 'em off or bury 'em.
That's your business, not mine. I'll ask no questions," he added sharply, "an" I'll
see nobody else does. What happens here is our business."
He dismissed Kedrick from his mind and turned his attention to Gunter. "You've ordered
like I told you? Grub for fifty men for fifty days? Once this situation is cleaned
up I want to get busy at once. The sooner we have work started, the sooner we'll
be all set. I want no backfiring on this job."
Burwick turned sharply at Tom Kedrick. "Ten days! I give you ten days! If you need
more than five I'll be disappointed. If you've not the heart for it, turn Dornie
loose. Dornie'll show 'em ." He cackled suddenly. "That's right. Dornie'll show 'emI"
He sobered down, glanced at the papers on his desk, then without looking up, "Kedrick,
you can go. Dornie, you run along, too{"
Kedrick hesitated, then arose. "How many of these men are there?" he asked suddenly.
"Have any of them families?"
Gunter turned on him nervously. "I'll tell you all you need to know, Tom. See you
later!"
Kedrick shrugged, and picking up his hat, walked out. Dornie Shaw had already vanished.
When he reached the veranda, Connie Duane still sat there. She was staring over the
top of her book at the dusty, sun-swept street.
He paused, hat in hand. "'Have you been in Mustang long?" 'She looked up, studying
him for a long minute before she spoke. "Why, no. Not long. Yet long enough to learn
to love and hate." She turned her eyes to the hills, then back to him. "I love this
country, Captain. Can you understand that?
"I'm a city girl, born and bred in the city, and yet when I first saw those red rock
walls, those lonely mesas, the desert, the Indian ponies--why, Captain, I fell in
love! This is my country. I could stay here forever."
Surprised, he studied her again, more pleased than he could easily have admitted.
"That's the way I feel about it. But you said to love and to hate. You love the country.
Now what do you hate?"
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 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUI"rE
9
..."Some of the men who infest it, Captain. Some of the human
it breeds, and others, bred elsewhere, who come to it to
off the ones who came earlier and were more courageous but less knowing, less tricky."
More and more surprised, he leaned on the rail. "I don't know I follow you, Miss
Duane. I haven't been here long, but I
met any of those you speak of."
I She looked up at him, her eyes frank and cool. Slowly, she
her book and turned toward the door. "You haven't, Cap?"
Her voice was suddenly cool. "Are you sure? At this mo I am wondering if you are
not one of them!" She stepped "
the door and was gone.
Tom Kedrick stood for a moment, staring after her. When he
away it was with a puzzled frown on his face. Now what did mean by that? What did
she know about him that could
her to such a view? Despite himself, he was both irritated disturbed. Coupled with
the anger of the man Peters, it
a new element to his thinking. Yet, how could Consuelo " John Gunter's niece, have
the same opinion owned by No doubt they stemmed from different sources.
he walked on down to the street of the town and there, looking around.
He had not yet changed into Western clothes, and wore a
ttat-crowned, fiat-brimmed black hat, which he would retain, a gray suit, and black
Western-style boots. Pausing on the
he slowly rolled a cigarette and lighted it. He made a hing, handsome figure as he
stood there in his perfectly fitted
his lean, bronzed face strong, intelligent, and alert.
Both men and women glanced at him and most of them looked
His military erectness, broad shoulders and cool self:!possession were enough to
mark him in any crowd. His mind had
his immediate problem now and was lost in the never ending excitement of a crowded
Western street. All kinds of men and women seemed jammed together without rhyme or
reason. i: For the West was of all things, a melting pot. Adventurers
to seek gold, new lands, excitement. Gamblers, women of .the oldest and most active
profession, thugs, gunmen, cow rustlers, horsethieves, miners, cowhands, freighters
and just drifters--
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Louis L'AMoun
'
all crowded the street. That bearded unshaven man in the sun-faded red wool shirt
might, if prompted, start to spout Shakespeare. The slender young man talking to
the girl in the buckboard might have graduated frona Oxford, and the white-faced
gambler might be the scion of an old Southern family.
All men wore guns, most of them in plain sight. Few of them would hesitate to use
them if need be. The man who fought with his fists, although present, was a rarity.
A big man lurched from the crowd. Tom glanced at him, and their eyes met. Obviously,
the man had been drinking and was hunting trouble. In Kedrick, he thought he found
it. Sensing a fight, other passersby became wary and stopped to watch.
"So?" The big man stood wide legged, his sleeves rolled about thick, hairy forearms.
" 'Nother one of them durn thieves! Land stealers!" He chuckled suddenly. "Well,
your murderer ain't with you now to save your bacon, an' I aim to git my share of
you right now! Reach!"
Kedrick's mouth was dry, but his eyes were calm. He held the cigarette in his right
hand near his mouth. "Sorry, friend. I'm not packing a gun. If I were, I'd still
not kill you. You're mistaken, man, about that land. My people have a rightful claim
to it."
"Have they, now?" The big man came a step nearer, his hand on the butt of his gun.
"The right to take from a man the land he's sweated over? To tear down his home?
To run his kids out on the desert?"
Despite the fact that the man was drunk, Tom Kedrick saw beyond it a sullen and honest
fury--and fear. Not fear for him, for this man was not afraid, nor would he be afraid
of Dornie Shaw. He was afraid for his family. The realization of that fact struck
Kedrick and disturbed him anew. More and more he was questioning the course he had
chosen.
The crowd murmured and was ugly. Obviously, their sympathies were with the big man,
and against Kedrick.
A low murmur, then a rustling in the crowd, and suddenly: deathly silence. Kedrick
saw the big man's face pale, and heard someone whisper hoarsely, "Look out, Burt!
It's Dornie Shaw!"
Kedrick was suddenly aware that Shaw had moved up beside
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 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTI'E
11
"Let me have him, Cap'n," Shaw's voice was low. "It's time
here was stopped."
Kedrick's voice was sharp, cold. "No! Move back, Shaw! I'll
my own battles!"
"But you ain't got a gun!" Shaw's voice was sharper in protest.
Burt showed no desire to retreat. That the appearance of Shaw
had shocked him was evident, but this man was not Peters. He
going to stand his ground. His eyes, wary now, but puzzled,
from Shaw to Kedrick, and Tom took an easy step for putting himself almost within
arm's length of Burr.
naw not in this, Burt," he said quietly. "I've no quarrel
you, man, but no man calls me without getting his chance. If
want what I've got, don't let the fact that I'm not armed stop
I wanted no quarrel, but you do--so have at it]"
' " was in the big man's eyes. He had seen guns come
nowhere before, and especially from men dressed as this
He was not prepared to believe that Kedrick would face him
"You got a gun!" he snapped. "You got a hideout, you
coyote!"
jerked his gun from the holster and in that instant, Tom
moved. The edge of his left hand chopped down on the
wrist of the gunhand, and he stepped in, whipping up his
in an uppercut that packed all the power in his lean, whip rd body. The punch was
fast and perfectly timed, and the crack
on the corner of Burt's jaw was like the snap of a teamster's
. Burt hit the walk just one split second after his gun, and he
right on his shoulder blades.
Coolly then, Kedrick stooped and picked up the gun, an old
Model Navy revolver. He stood over the man, his eyes
iearching the crowd. Wherever he looked there were hard, blank
He glanced down at Burt. The big man was slowly sitting
shaking his big head. He started to lift his right hand, and
gave a sudden gasp of pain. He stared at it, then looked up. "You
my wrist!" he said. "It's busted! An' me with my plowin' to
i.; do!"
"Better get up," Kedrick said quietly. "You asked for it, you
i know."
When the man was on his feet, Kedrick calmly handed him his
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Louis L'AMOUR
six-shooter. Their eyes met over the gun and Kedrick smiled. "Take it. Drop it down
in your holster an' forget it. I'm not worried. You're not the man to shoot another
in the back."
Calmly, he turned his back and walked slowly away down the street. Before the St.
James, he paused. His fingers trembled ever so slightly as he took out a paper and
shook tobacco into it.
"That was slick." It was Dornie Shaw's soft voice. His brown eyes probed Kedrick's
face curiously. "Never seen the like! Just slapped his wrist an' busted it!"
With Keith, John Gunter had also come up, and he was smiling broadly. "Saw it all,
son! That'll do more good than a dozen killings! Just like Tom Smith used to do!
Old Bear Creek Tom who handled some of the toughest rannies that ever came over the
trail with nothin' but his fists!"
"What would you have done if he had jerked that gun back and fired?" Keith asked.
Kedrick shrugged, wanting to forget it. "He hadn't time," he said quietly. "But there
are answers to that, too!"
"Some of the boys will be up to see you tonight, Tom," Gunter advised. "I've had
Dornie notify Shad, Fessenden and some of the others. Better figure on a ride out
there tomorrow. Makin' a start, anyway. Just sort of ride around with some of the
boys to let 'em know we ain't foolin'."
Kedrick nodded, and after a brief discussion went inside and to his room. Certainly,
he reflected, the West had not changed. Things still happened fast out here.
He pulled off his coat, waistcoat and vest, then his boots. Stripped to the waist,
he sat down on the bed and dug into his valise. For a couple of minutes he dug around
and then drew out two well-oiled holsters and gun belts. In the holsters were two
.44 Russian pistols, a Smith & Wesson gun, manufactured on order for the Russian
Army, and one of the most accurate shooting pistols on the market up to that time.
Carefully, he checked the loads, then returned the guns to their holsters and put
them aside. Digging around, he drew out a second pair of guns, holsters and belts.
Each of these was a Walch twelve-shot Navy pistol, caliber .36, and almost identical
in size and weight to the Frontier Colt or the .44 Russian.
16
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTTE
13
Barely seen in the West, and disliked by some, Kedrick had
the guns on many occasions and found them always satisfac,. There were times when
the added fire power was a big . As for stopping power, the .36 in the hands of a
good
an lacked but little that offered by the heavier .44 caliber. Yet, there was a time
and a place for everything, and these guns
an added tactical value. Carefully, he wrapped them once
and returned them to the bottom of his valise. Then he
on the .44 Russians, and digging out his Winchester, care cleaned, oiled and loaded
it. Then he sat down on the bed was about to remove his guns again and stretch out,
when
was a light tap at the door.
in," said Kedrick, "and if you're an enemy, I'll be pleased know you!"
door opened and closed all in a breath. The man that stood his back to it facing
Kedrick was scarcely five-feet-four, yet
as broad as he was tall. All of him seemed the sheer power !bone and muscle, and
not an ounce of fat anywhere. His broad
face might have been graved from stone, and the bristle of
hair above it was black as a crow's wing. The man's spread to broad, thick shoulders.
On his right hip he packed
In his hand he held a narrow-brimmed hard hat.
" Kedrick leaped to his feet. "Dai!" The name was an explosion of
"Dai Reid! What are you doing in this country?"
"Ah? So it's that you ask, is it? Well, it's trouble there is, much F trouble! An'
you that's by way of bringin' it!"
"Me?" Kedrick waved to a chair. "Tell me what you mean." o.The Welshman searched
his face, then seated himself, his huge
resting on his knees. His legs were thick muscled and
"It's the man Burwick you're with? An' you've the job
to run us off the land? There is changed you are, Tom, an' the worse!"
"You're one of them? You're on the land Burwick, Keith and
claim?"
"'I am that. And a sight of work I've done on it, too. An' now
rascals would be puttin' me off. Well, they'll have a fight to :rnove me---an' you,
too, Tom Kedrick, if you're to stay one of
em."
17
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Louis L'AMOUR
Kedrick studied the Welshman thoughtfully. All his doubts had come to a head now
. . . for this man, he knew. His own father had been Welsh, his mother Irish, and
Dai Reid had been friend to them both. Dai had come from the old country with his
father, had worked beside him when he courted his mother, and although much younger
than Gwilym Kedrick, he had come West with him, too.
"Dai," he said slowly, "I'll admit that today I've been having doubts of all this.
You see, I knew John Gunter after the war, and I took a herd of cattle over the trail
for a friend of his. There was trouble that year, the Indians holding up every herd
and demanding large numbers of cattle for themselves, the rustlers trying to steal
whole herds, and others demanding money for passage across land they claimed. I took
my herd through without paying anything but a few fat beefs for the Indians, who
richly deserved them. But not what they demanded--they got what I wanted to give.
"Gunter remembered me from that, and knew something of my war record, so when he
approached me in New Orleans, his proposition sounded good. And this is what he told
me.
"His firm, Burwick, Keith and Gunter, had filed application for the survey and purchase
of all or parts of nearly three hundred sections of land. They made oath that this
land was swampland, or overflowed and came under the General Land Office ruling that
it was 'land too wet for irrigation at seeding time, though later requiring irrigation,
and therefore subject to sale as swamp.'
"He went on to say that they had arranged to buy the land, but that a bunch of squatters
were on it who refused to leave. He wanted to hire me to lead a force to see the
land was cleared, and he said that most of them were rustlers, outlaws or renegades
of one sort or another. There would be fighting and force would be necessary."
Dai nodded. "Right he was as to the fighting, but renegades, no. Well," he smiled
grimly past his pipe. "I'd not be saying that now, but there's mighty few. There
are bad apples in all barrels, one or two," he said. "But most of us be good people,
with homes built and crops in.
"An' did he tell you that their oath was given that the land was
18
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUqSI'E
15
Well, it was! And let me tell you. Ninety-four sechave homes on them, some mighty
poor, but homes.
they were with the planning. Six months the notices be posted, but they posted them
in fine print and where few would read, and three months are by before anything is
and by accident only. So now they come to force us off, ',be sure the land is unoccupied
and ready. As for swamp, 'tis now, and always desert. Crops can only be grown where
water is, an' little enough of that."
shook his head and knocked out his short-stemmed pipe. we've none to fight them,
no lawyers among us, although who's as likely to help, a newspaper man, he is. But
what without money to send him to Washington?"
Welshman's face was gloomy. "They'll beat us, that we They've money to fight us with,
and tough men. But some
will die on the ground, and pay for it with their red And those among us there are
who plan to see 'tis not only hired gunners who die, but the high an' mighty. You,
too, if among them you stay."
was thoughtful. "Dai, this story is different from the I've had. I'll have to think
about it, and tomorrow we ride out look the land over and show ourselves."
Reid looked up sharply. "Don't you be one of them, bye! We've made to see no man
gets off alive if we can help it."
"Look, man!" Kedrick leaned forward. "You've got to change I mean, for now. Tomorrow
it's mainly a show of force, a
There will be no shooting, I promise you. We'll ride out, around, then ride back.
If there's shooting, your men will it. Now you go back to them and stop it. Let them
hold off, let me look around."
Di
Reid got slowly to his feet. "Ah, lad! 'tis good to see you but under happier circumstances
I wish it were! I'd have
to the house for supper and a game, as in the old days! You'd the wife I have!"
,
"'You? Married?" Kedrick was incredulous. "I'd never believe ,,
Dai grinned sheepishly. "Married it is, all right, and happy, His face darkened.
"Happy if I can keep my ground. But
19
 16
Lovls L'AMoUI
one promise I male! If your bloddy riders take my ground, my body will be there when
they ride past, and it will be not alone, but with dead men around!"
Long after the Welshman had gone, Tom Kedrick sat silently and studied the street
below the window. Was this what Consuelo Duane had meant? Whose side was she on?
First, he must ride over the land, see it for himself, and then he must have another
talk with Gunter. Uneasily, he looked again at the faces of the men in his mind.
The cold, wolf-like face of Keith; the fat, slobby face of Burwick, underlined with
harsh, domineering power; and the face of Gunter, friendly, affable, but was it not
a little . . . sly?
From outside came the noise of a tinny piano, and a strident female voice, singing.
Chips rattled, and there was the constant rustle of movement and of booted feet.
Somewhere a spur jingled, and Tom Kedrick got to his feet and slipped into a shirt.
When he was dressed again, with his guns belted on, he left his room and walked down
the hall to the lobby.
From a room beside him, a man stepped and stared after him. It was Dornie Shaw.
20
 THREE
[i/nly the dweller in the deserts can know such mornings, such i ''silences, drowsy
with warmth and the song of the cicadas. No
I
.where but in the desert do the far miles stand out so clearly, the [.=mesas, towers
and cliffs so boldly outlined. Nowhere will the ['cloud shadows island themselves
upon the desert, offering their
'brief respite from the sun.
r
Six riders, their saddles creaking, six hard men, each lost in the twisted arroyos
of his own thoughts, were emerging upon the I broad desert. They were men who rode
with guns, men who had used their guns to kill and would use them so again. Some
of them were already doomed by the relentless and ruthless tide of ii, events; and
to the others their time, too, would come.
i
. Each of them was alone, as men who live by the gun are always alone. To them, each
man was a potential enemy, each shadow a ['. danger. They rode jealously, their gestures
marked by restraint, their eyes by watchfulness.
, A horse blew through his nostrils, a hoof clicked on a stone,
I
someone shifted in his saddle and sighed. These were the only j 'sounds. Tom Kedrick
rode an appaloosa gelding, fifteen hands
21
 18
Lous L'AMOUR
even, with iron-gray forequarters and starkly white hindquarters splashed with tear-shaped
spots of black--a clean-limbed horse, strong and fast, with quick, intelligent eyes
and interested ears.
When they bunched to start their ride, Laredo Shad stopped to
stare at the horse, walking around it admiringly, "You're lucky, friend. That's a
horse! Where'd you find him?"
"Navajo remuda. He's a Nez Perc6 war horse, a long ways off
his reservation."
Kedrick noticed the men as they gathered and how they all
sized him up carefully, noting his Western garb, and especially, the low-hung, tied-down
guns. Yesterday, they had seen him in the store clothes he had worn from New Orleans,
but now they could size him up better, judge him with their own kind.
He was tall and straight, and of his yesterday's clothing only the black, fiat-crowned
hat remained, the hat, and the high-heeled rider's boots. He wore a gray wool shirt
now and a black silk kerchief around his neck. His jeans were black, and the two
guns rode easily in position, ready for the swing of his hand.
Kedrick saw them bunch, and when they all were there, he
said simply, "All right, let's go!"
They mounted up. Kedrick noted slender wiry Dornie Shaw;
the great bulk of Si Fessenden; lean, bitter Poinsett and the square blond Lee Goff;
sour-faced Clauson, the oldest of the lot and the lean Texan, Laredo Shad. Moving
out, he glanced at them. Whatever else they might be, they were fighting men.
Several times Shaw glanced at his guns.
"You ain't wearin' Colts?"
"No, .44 Russians. They are a good gun, one of the most accurate ever built." He
indicated the trail ahead with a nod. "You've
been out this way before?"
"Yeah, we got quite a ride. We'll noon at a spring I know just
over the North Fork. There's some deep canyons to cross, then a big peak. The Indians
an' Spanish called it The Orphan. All wild country. Right beyond there we'll begin
strikin' a few of 'em." He grinned a little, showing his white even teeth. "They
are scattered all over bell's half acre."
"Dornie," Goff asked suddenly, "you figure on ridin' over to
the Malpais this trip?"
22
 s
SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTTE
19
iClauson chuckled. "Sure, he will! He should've give up long
b, but he's sure hard to whip! Tha,,t girl has set her sights
er',n any West country gun slinger.'
;TShe s shapely, at that!" Goff was openly admiring. "Right
pely, but playin' no fav'rites."
i ".Maybe they're playin' each other for what they can git," ,Poinsett
d, wryly, "Maybe that's where he all the news he tellin'
gets
s
ith. He sure seems to know a sight o' what's goin' around." :.Dornle Shaw turned
n hs saddle, and hs thin features had arpened. Shut upt he sad coldly.
iThe older man tightened and his eyes blazed back with genuine
!te, yet he held his peace. It was educational to see how quickly quieted down; for
Poinsett, a hard, vicious man with no love anybody or anything, obviously wanted
no part of what Shaw
give him.
?As the day drew on, Kedrick studied the men, and noticed all avoided giving offense
to Shaw, even the burly Fessenden had killed twenty men, and was the only one of
the group
had ever seen before. He wondered if Fessenden
him and decided he would know before the day was
Around the noon camp there was less friendly banter than occur in a cow camp. These
men were surly and touchy.
Shad seemed able to relax, and everything came easily for Clauson seemed to take
over the cooking job by tacit conent, and the reason was soon obvious: he was an
excellent
i:: As he ate, Tom Kedrick studied his situation with care. He had en this job in
New Orleans, and at the time had needed money adly. Gunter had put up the cash to
get him out here. If he did lack out, he would have to find a way to repay him. Yet
the more e looked over this group, the more he believed that he was in mething that
he wanted out ofhbut fast.
He had fought as a soldier of fortune in several wars. War had en his profession,
and he had been a skilled fighting man al i':most from the beginning. His father,
a one-time soldier, had a
love for tactics, and Tom had grown up with an interest in things I military. His
education had mostly come from his father and from
23
 20
Louis L'AMOUR
a newspaper man who lived with them for a winter and helped to teach the boy what
he could.
Kedrick had grown up with his interest in tactics, and had entered the army and fought
through the War Between the States. The subsequent fighting had given him a practical
background to accompany his study and theory. But with all his fighting and killing
it had entailed, he had not become callous.
To run a bunch of renegades off the land seemed simple enough
and it promised action and excitement. It was a job he could do. Now he was no longer
sure it was a job for him. His talk with Dai Reid as well as the attitude of so many
of the people in Mustang convinced him that all was not as simple as it had first
appeared. Now, before taking a final step, he wanted to survey the situation and
see just whom he would be fighting, and where. At the same time, he knew the men
who rode with him were going to ask few questions. They would do their killing, collect
their money, and ride on.
Of them all, only Shad might think as he did, and Kedrick made a mental note to talk
with the Texan before the day was over, find out where he stood and what he knew.
He was inclined to agree with Shaw's original judgment, that Shad was one of the
best of the lot with a gun. The man's easy way was not only natural to him, he was
simply confident. He had that hard confidence that comes only from having measured
his own ability and knowing what he could do when the chips were down.
After he finished his coffee he got to his feet and strolled over
to the spring, had a drink, then arose and walked to his horse, tightening the cinch
he had loosened when they stopped. The air was clear. Despite their lowered voices,
he could catch most of what was said.
The first question he missed, but Fessenden's reply he heard. "Don't you fret about
him. He's a scrapper from way back, Dornie. I found that out. This here ain't our
first meetin'."
Even at this distance and with his horse between him and the
circle of men, Kedrick could sense their attention.
"Tried to finagle him out of that Patterson herd up in Injun Territory. He didn't
finagle worth a durn."
24
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTTE
21
happened?" Goff demanded. "Any shootin'?"
I was ridin' partners with Chuck Gibbons, the Llano
an' Chuck was always on the prod, sort of. One, two
I figured I might have to shoot it out with him my own self, wasn't exactly honin'
for trouble. We had too good a thing
to bust it up quarrelin'. But Chuck, he was plumb salty, an' Kedrick faced him an'
wouldn't back down or deliver the Chuck called him."
Fessenden sipped his coffee, while the men waited impatiently. they could stand the
suspense no longer, Goff demanded, what happened?" big man shrugged. "Kedrick's here,
ain't he?" "I mean--what was the story?"
"Gibbons never cleared leather. None of us even seen Kedrick
but you could have put a half dollar over the two holes in
left shirt pocket."
spoke after that, and Tom Kedrick took his time over cinch. Then leaving his horse,
he walked away further and
scouting the terrain thoughtfully.
too experienced a man to fail to appreciate the impor of a knowledge of terrain.
All this country from Mustang to Territory line would become a battleground in the
near fu and a man's life might depend on what he knew. He wasted opportunity to study
the country or ask questions.
He had handled tough groups before and he was not disturbed
the problem this one presented. However, in this case he
the situation was much more serious. In a group the men
be easier to handle than they would separately. These
were all individualists, and were without any group loyalty. the last analysis, they
had faith in only two things: six-gun
and money. By these they lived and by these they would
Fessenden had talked was pleasing, for it would, at least the doubts of some of the
others. Knowing him for a gunhand, would more willingly accept orders from him, not
because of
but rather because they knew him for one of their own, and some stranger brought
in to command.
When once again they all moved out, taking their time, the
25
 22
Louis L'AMOUR
heat had increased. Nothing stirred on the wide, shallow face of the desert but a
far and lonely buzzard that floated high and alone over a far-off mesa. Tom Kedrick's
eyes roamed the country ceaselessly, and yet from time to time his thoughts kept
reverting to the girl on the veranda. Connie Duane was a beautiful girl. Although
Gunter's niece, she apparently did not approve all he did.
Why was she here? What was her connection with Keith? Kedrick sensed the latter's
animosity and he welcomed it. A quiet man, he was slow to anger; but when he was
pushed, a deep-seated anger arose within him in a black tide that made him a driving
fury. Knowing this rage that lay dormant within him, he rode carefully, talked carefully,
and held his temper and his hand.
Dornie Shaw drew up suddenly. "This here is Canyon Largo," he said, waving his hand
down the rift before them. "That peak ahead an' on your right is The Orphan. Injuns
won't let no white man up there, but they say there's a spring with a good flow of
water on top.
"Yonder begins the country that Burwick, Keith and Gunter bought up. They don't have
the land solid to the Arizona border, but they've got a big chunk of it. The center
of the squatters is a town called Yellow Butte. There's maybe ten, twelve buildin's
there, among 'em a store, a stable, corrals, a saloon, an' a bank."
Kedrick nodded thoughtfully. The country before him was high desert country and could
under no circumstances be called swamp. In the area where he stood there was little
growth: a few patches of curly mesquite grass or black grama, with prickly pear,
soapweed, creosote bush and catclaw scattered through it. In some of the washes he
saw the deeper green of pifion or juniper.
They pushed on, entered the canyon and emerged from it, heading due west. He rode
warily, and once, far off on his left, he glimpsed a horseman. Later, seeing the
same rider, nearer than before, he deduced they were under observation and hoped
there would be no attack.
"The country where most of the squatters are is right smack dab in the middle o'
the range the company is after. The hombre most likely to head 'em is Bob McLennon.
He's got him two right-hand men name of Pete Slagle an' Pit Laine. Now, you
26
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTrE
23
me the other day if they would fight. Them three are
oak. Slagle's an oldish feller, but McLennon's in his an' was once a cowtown marshal.
Laine, well, he's a tough to figure, but he packs two guns an' cuts him a wide swath
there. I hear tell he had him some gun trouble up Durango an' he didn't need no help
to handle it."
m behind him Kedrick heard a low voice mutter, "Most as to figure as his sister!"
.Dornie's mouth tightened, but he gave no other evidence that
had heard. However, the comment served to add a little to
information. Obviously, Dornie Shaw had a friend in
s camp, and the information with which he had been
Keith must come from that source. Was the girl betraying own brother and her friends?
It could be, but could Shaw
and go among them without danger? Or did he worry himabout it?
There had been no mention of Dai Reid, yet the powerful little
.man was sure to be a figure wherever he stood. He was
a man to be reckoned with.
Suddenly, a rider appeared from an arroyo not thirty yards off
walked her horse toward them. Dornie Shaw swore softly and
up. As one man, they all stopped.
The girl was small, well made, her skin as brown as that of an
her hair coal black. She had large, beautiful eyes and hands. Her eyes flashed from
Dornie to the others, then
to Tom Kedrick, measuring him for a long minute. "Who's friend, Dornie?" she said.
"Introduce me."
Shaw's eyes were dark and hard as he turned slightly. "Cap'n
I want yuh to meet Sue Laine."
"Captain?" She studied him anew. "Were you in the army?"
he said quietly. Her pinto was not the horse of the rider
had been observing them; therefore, there was another rider there somewhere. Who
was he?
"You're ridin' quite a ways from home, Sue," Shaw interrupted.
think that's wse.
"I can take care of myself, Dornie!" Her reply was cool, and
27
 24
Louis L'AMOUR
Kedrick saw blood rise under Shaw's skin. "However, I came to warn you, or Captain
Kedrick, if he is in charge. It won't be safe to ride any further. McLennon called
a meeting this morning and they voted to open fire on any party of surveyors or strange
riders they see. From now on, this country is closed. A rider is going to Mustang
tonight with the news."
"There she is," Goff said dryly. "They are sure enough askin' for it! What if we
ride on, anyway?"
She glanced at him. "Then there will be fighting," she said quietly.
"Well," Poinsett said impatiently, "what are we talkin' for? We come here to fight,
didn't we? Let's ride on an' see how much battle they got in them."
Tom Kedrick studied the girl thoughtfully. She was pretty, all right, very pretty.
She lacked the quiet beauty of Connie Duane, but she did have beauty. "Do they have
scouts out?" he asked.
She glanced at him. "Not yet, but they will have." She smiled. "If they had I'd never
have dared ride to warn you."
"Whose side are you on, Miss Laine?" Kedrick asked. Dornie's head came around sharply
and his eyes blazed. Before he could speak, Sue Laine answered for herself. "That
decision I make for myself. My brother does not make it for me, nor any one of them.
They are fools! To fight over this desert!" Contemptuously, she waved a hand at it.
"There's no more than a bare living on it, anyway! If they lose, maybe we can leave
this country!"
She swung her horse abruptly. "Well, you've had your warning. Now I'll go back."
"I'll be ridin' your way," Shaw interposed.
Her eyes swung back to him. "Don't bother!" Then she turned her attention deliberately
to Kedrick and measured him again with her cool eyes, a hint of a smile in them now.
"If anybody comes, let Captain Kedrick come. They don't know him!"
Somebody in the group chuckled, and Dornie Shaw, his face white as death, swung his
horse. His teeth were bared, his right hand poised. "Who laughed?" he said, his voice
almost trembling.
"Miss Laine," Kedrick said quietly, "I think Dornie Shaw could make the trip better
than I. He knows the country."
28
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTTE
25
Shaw's eyes glittered. "I asked: who laughed?"
Kedrick turned his head. "Forget it, Shaw." His voice was . "There'll be no fighting
with other men in this outfit while in command!"
i For an instant, Dornie Shaw held his pose. Then his eyes,
opaque as a rattler's, swung toward Kedrick. "You're me?" Incredulity mixed with
sarcasm.
Tom Kedrick knew danger when he saw it, but he only nod
"You, or anybody, Dornie. We have a job to do. You've
on for that job as much as any man here. If we begin to among ourselves we'll get
nothing done, and right now we afford to lose a good man.
"I scarcely think," he added, "that either Keith or Burwick
like the idea of a killing among their own men."
.Shaw's eyes held Kedrick's and for an instant there was no
A cicada hummed in the brush, and Sue Laine's horse
at a fly. Tom Kedrick knew in that instant that Dornie
hated him. He had an idea that this was the first time Shaw ever been thwarted in
any purpose he held.
Shaw's right hand slowly lowered. "Yuh got me on that
Cap'n," his voice was empty, dry. "I reckon this is too soon istart shootin' an'
old man Burwick is right touchy."
Laine glanced at Kedrick, genuine surprise and not a little
in her eyes. "I'll be going. Watch yourselves!"
i'Before her horse could more than start, Kedrick asked, "Miss which of your outfit
rides a long-legged grulla?" turned on him, her face pale. "A--a grulla?"
""Yes," he said, "such a rider has been watching us most of the
and such a rider is not over a half mile away now. Also,"
"he has a field glass!"
Fessenden turned with an oath, and Poinsett glared around.
Shaw spoke. His voice was strained and queer. "A grulla?
refused to say more, but Kedrick studied him, puzzled by remark. It was almost as
if Shaw knew a grulla horse, but had expected it to be seen here. The same might
be true of Sue who was obviously upset by his comment. Long after they on, turning
back toward the spring on the North Fork,
29
 26
Louis L'AMOUR
Kedrick puzzled over it. This was an entirely new element that might mean anything
or nothing.
There was little talking on the way back. Poinsett was obviously irritated that they
had not ridden into a fight, yet he seemed content enough to settle down into another
camp.
30
 FOUR
arnie Shaw was silent. Only when Tom Kedrick arose 'after er and began to saddle
his horse did he look up. Kedrick at him. "Shaw, I'm ridin' to Yellow Butte. I'm
going to that setup over at first hand. I don't want trouble an' I'm not any, but
I want to know what we're tacklin'."
Shaw was standing, staring after him, when he rode off. Kedrick rode swiftly, pushing
due west at a good pace to take advantage of the remaining light. He had more than
one reason for the ride.
wanted to study the town and the terrain, but also he wanted :to see what the people
were like. Were they tZamily men? Or 'were they outlaws? He had seen little thus
far that tended to : prove the outlaw theory.
The town of Yellow Butte lay huddled at the base of the long oval-shaped mesa from
which it took its name. There, on a bit of
land, the stone and frame buildings of the town had gathered together. Most of them
backed against the higher land behind them, and faced toward the arroyo. Only three
buildings and the corrals were on the arroyo side, but one thing was obvious. The
town had never been planned for defense.
27
31
 28
Louis L'AMOuR
A rifleman or two on top of Yellow Butte could cover any movement in the village;
and the town was exposed to fire from both the high ground behind the town and the
bed of the arroyo, where there was shelter under its banks. The butte itself was
scarcely one hundred and fifty feet higher than the town and looked right down the
wide street in front of the buildings.
Obviously, however, some move had been made toward defense-- or was in the process
of being made--for occasional piles of earth near several of the buildings were plainly
from recent digging. He studied them, puzzled over their origin and cause. Finally,
he gave up and scouted the area.
Thoughtfully, he glanced at the butte. Had the squatters thought of putting their
own riflemen up there? It would seem the obvious thing, yet more than one competent
commander, at some time during his career, had forgotten the obvious. It might also
be true of these men. He noted that the top of the butte not only commanded the town,
but most of the country around, and was the highest point within several miles.
Kedrick turned his palouse down the hill toward the town. He rode in the open, his
right hand hanging free at his side. If he was seen, nothing was done to disturb
him. What if there were more than one rider?
He swung down before the Butte Saloon and tied his horse at the rail. He knew the
animal was weary and in no shape for a long ride.
The street was empty. He stepped up on the walk and pushed through the swinging doors
into the bright lights of the interior. A man sitting alone at a table saw him, scowled
and started to speak, then thought better of it and went on with his solitaire. Tom
Kedrick crossed to the bar. "Rye," he said quietly.
The bartender nodded and poured the drink. It was not until Kedrick dropped his coin
on the bar that the bartender looked up. Instantly, his face stiffened. "Who've you?"
he demanded. "I never saw you before!"
Kedrick was aware that two men had closed in on him. Both of them were strangers.
One was a sharp looking, oldish man, the other an obviously belligerent redhead.
"Pour a drink for my friends, too," he said. Then he turned slowly, so they would
not
32
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTTE
29
!mistake his intentions, until his back was to the bar. Carefully, he surveyed the
room.
. There were a dozen men here, and all eyes were on him. "I'm
buying, he said quietly. Will you gentlemen join me?"
Nobody moved and he shrugged. He turned back to the bar. :' His drink was gone.
Slowly, he lifted his eyes to the bartender. "I bought a drink," he said quietly.
The man stared back at him, his eyes hard. "Never noticed it," he, said.
' I bought a drink, paid my money, and I want what I paid for."
All was still. The men on either side of him leaned on the bar,
lgnonng him.
,
,
.... I m a,,patmnt man, he persisted, I bought a drink, an I want
ltnow.
,
,, ....
Mster, the bartender thrust his wide face across the bar, we
don't serve drinks to your kind here. Now get out before we
throw you out!"
Kedrick's forearms were resting on the edge of the bar, and
what followed was done so swiftly that neither man beside him
had a chance to move.
i.: Tom Kedrick's right hand shot out and grabbed the bartender
by the shirt collar under his chin, then he turned swiftly, back to
bar, and heaved. The bartender came over the bar as if he
were greased and hit the floor with a crash. Instantly, Kedrick
spun away from the two men beside him and stood facing the
room, gun in hand.
Men had started to their feet, and several had moved toward him.
Now they froze where they were. The .44 Russian had appeared
as if materialized from thin air.
"Gentlemen," Kedrick said quietly, "I did not come here hunt ing trouble. I have
been hired for a job. I came to see if you were
the manner of men you have been represented as being. Evi dently your bartender is
hard of hearing, or lacking in true hospi
tality.
I ordered a drink.
You, Kedrick gestured at the man playing solitaire, "look like
a man of judgment. You pour my drink and put it on the end of
the bar nearest me. Then," his eyes held the room, "pour each of
33
 30
Louis L'AMOUR
these gentlemen a drink." With his left hand he extracted a gold eagle from his pocket
and slapped it on the bar. "That pays."
He took another step back, then coolly, he holstered his gun. Eyes studied him, but
nobody moved. The redhead did not like it. He had an urge to show how tough he was
and Kedrick could see it building. "You!" Kedrick asked quickly. "Are you married?
Children?"
The redhead stared at him, then said, his voice surly, "Yeah, I'm married, an' I
got two kids. What's it to you?"
"I told you," Kedrick replied evenly, "I came to see what manner of men you are."
The man who was pouring the drinks looked up. I'll answer
your questions. I'm Pete Slagle."
"I've heard of you."
A slight smile came to Slagle's mouth. "Yeah," he said, "an' I've heard of you."
Nobody moved nor spoke while Slagle calmly poured the drinks. Then he straightened
and glanced around the room. "Men," he said, "I reckon there's no use goin' off half
cocked an' gettin' somebody killed. Let's give this man a chance to speak his piece.
We sure don't have to buy what he wants to sell us if we don't like his argument."
"Thanks, Slagle." Kedrick studied the room. Two of the faces seemed hard, unrelenting.
Another was genuinely interested. But at the door in the rear, loitered a man who
had shifty eyes and a sour face. He could have been, in disposition at least, a twin
brother to the former outlaw, Clauson.
"The land around here," Kedrick said quietly, "is about to be purchased from the
Government by the firm that's employed me. The firm of Burwick, Keith and Gunter.
In New Orleans, where I was hired, I was told that there were squatters on the land,
a bunch of outlaws, renegades and wasters, that they would resist being put off,
and would aim to keep the badlands for themselves. My job was to clean them out,
to clear the land for the company. I have come here for that purpose."
There was a low murmur from the back of the room. Kedrick took time to toss off his
drink, and then calmly began to roll a smoke. To his right, the door opened and two
men came in. One
34
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTTE
31
'these was as tall as himself with coal black hair turning gray at
temples. His eyes were gray and cold, his face firmly cut. He
sharply around the room, then at Kedrick.
"Cap'n Tom Kedrick, Bob," Slagle said quietly, "speakin' his
He's just explained that we've been represented as a bunch
"That sounds like Burwick," McLennon said. "Get on with it,
"I've little to say but this. Naturally, like any good fighting I wanted to look
over the terrain. Moreover, since arriving Mustang certain rumors and hints have
reached me that the
is not one-sided. I have come out here to look you over, see exactly what sort of
people you are, and if you are the and wasters you have been represented to be. Also,
I like to have a statement from you."
Red's face was ugly. "We got nothin' to say to you, Kedrick," said harshly, "nothin'
at all! Just you come down here with killers an' see how many get away alive!"
"'Wait a minute, Red!" Slagle interrupted. "Let Bob have his
why bother?" Red said roughly. "The man is scared or never have come huntin' information!"
' ,Kedrick's eyes held Red's thoughtfully, and he said slowly, Red, I'm not scared.
If I decide the company is right and are to be run off, that is exactly what I'll
do. If the men I have not enough, I'll get more. I'm used to war, Red. I've been
at all my life, and I know how to win. I'm not here because I'm I have come simply
because I make a pass at being a just If you have a just claim to your places here,
and are not as I'll step out of this.
"Naturally," he added, "I can't speak for the others, but I will them of my conclusions."
"Fair enough," McLennon agreed. "All right, I'll state our case. land is Government
land, like all of it. The Navajos an' Utes some of it, an' some of us have dickered
with them for land.
we moved in an' settled on this land. Four or five of us have here upwards of ten
years, most of us have been here more !i than three.
35
 32
Louis L'AMOUR
"We've barns built, springs cleaned out, some fences. We've stocked some land, lived
through a few bad summers and worse winters. Some of us have wives, an' some of us
children. We're makin' homes here. The company is tryin' to gyp us.
"The law says we were to have six months' notice. That is, it was to be posted six
months before the sale by the Government to the company. This land, as we understand
it, is supposed to be unoccupied. Well, it ain't. We live on it. Moreover, that notice
was posted five months ago, stuck around in out-of-the-way places, in print so fine
a man can scarcely read it without a magnifyin' glass.
"A month ago one of the boys read it, but it took him a few days to sort the meanin'
out of the legal phrasin', an' then he high-tailed it to me. We ain't got the money
to send a man to the Government. So all we can do is fight. That's what we figure
on. If the company runs us off, which I don't figure you or nobody can do, they'll
buy ever' inch of it with their blood, believe me."
A murmur of approbation went through the room, and Kedrick thoughtfully scanned the
faces of the men. Dornie Shaw had judged these men correctly. They would fight. Moreover,
with men like McLennon and Slagle to lead them, they would be hard to handle.
Legally, the company seemed to be in the best position; also, the squatters were
bucking a stacked deck. From here it would take a man all of two weeks, and possibly
three, to get to Washington, let alone cut through all the Government red tape to
get to the men who could block the sale--if it could be blocked.
"This here's a speculation on their part," McLennon stated. "There's rumors this
here land is goin' into an Injun reservation, an' if it does, that means they'll
stick the Government a nice price for the land."
"Or you will,r' Kedrick replied. "Looks like there's two sides to this question,
McLennon. The company has an argument. If the Federal Government does make this a
reservation, you'll have to move, anyway."
"We'll face that when it comes," Slagle said. "Right now we're buckin' the company.
Our folks aren't speculators. We aren't gunmen, either."
36
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTI'E
33
Another man had entered the room, and Kedrick spotted him
It was Burt, the big man he had whipped in the street
The man stopped by the wall and surveyed the room. "None of you?" Kedrick asked gently.
"I have heard some sto about
Pit Laine."
."Laine's a good man!" Red burst out heatedly. "He'll do to ride
river with!"
: Neither McLennon nor Slagle spoke, and the latter shifted his
uneasily. Evidently, there was a difference of opinion here.
made a note to check on Laine, to find out more about him. "Well," he said finally,
"I reckon I'll study on it a little. In the
let's keep the peace. I'll keep my men off if you will
aren't huntin' trouble," McLennon said. "As long as there's shootin' at us, an' as
long as the company men stay off our
there'll be no trouble from us."
is," Slagle said, "we sent Roberts ridin' in with a message i.i Burwick to that effect.
We ain't huntin' for no trouble."
turned toward the door, but the bartender's voice him. "You forgot your change,"
he said dryly.
!!Kedrick glanced at him, grinned, then picked the coins up. "Be
you," he said and stepped away.
that instant, the door burst open and a man staggered into
room, his arm about another man, whom he dropped to the "Roberts!" the man said.
"He's been murdered!" eyes stared at the man on the floor. That he had been shot
times was obvious. He had also been ridden over, for his was torn and beaten by the
hoofs of running horses. Tom
felt his stomach turn over. Sick with pity and shock, he his eyes.
He looked up into a circle of accusation: McLennon, shocked
unbelieving; Slagle, horrified; Red and the others crowding
"Him!" Red pointed a finger that trembled with his anger. he stands an' talks to
us, his outfit murders Bob!" "Git him!" somebody yelled. "Git him! I got a rope!"
Kedrick was standing at the door, and he knew there was no
g with these men. Later, they might think and reason he might have known nothing
about the killing of Roberts.
37
 34
Louis L'AMOUR
Now, they would not listen. As the men yelled, he hurled himself through the swinging
doors and jerking loose his reins, hit the saddle of the palouse. The startled horse
swung and lined out, not down the street, but between the buildings.
Behind him men shouted and cursed. A shot rang out, and he heard a bullet clip past
his head as he swung between the buildings. Then he knew his escape had driven him
into a cul-de-sac, for he was now facing--not more than two hundred yards away--
the rim around the fiat where the town lay. Whether there was a break in that wall
he could not guess, but he had an idea both the route up and down along the arroyo
would be covered by guards. Swinging his horse, he charged into the darkness toward
Yellow Butte itself.
He remembered that coming into town he had noticed a V-shaped opening near its base.
Whether there was a cut through the rim there he did not know. It might only be a
box canyon, and a worse trap than the one into which he had run on his first break.
He slowed his pace, knowing that silence was the first necessity. If they heard him,
he could easily be bottled up. The fiat was small, and aside from crossing the arroyo
there were but two routes of escape. Both would surely be watched.
The butte towered high above him now, and his horse walked softly forward in the
abysmal darkness. Kedrick's safety was a matter of minutes.
The palouse was tired, he knew, for it had been going all day. The riding had been
hard and he was a big man. He knew he was in no shape for a hard run against men
with fresh horses. The only possible escape lay in some shrewd move that would keep
them guessing and give him time. Yet he must be gone before daylight or he was through.
By day they would comb this area and surely discover him.
Now the canyon mouth yawned before him. The walls were not high but at least were
steep enough to allow no escape on horseback.
The shouts of pursuit had stopped now, but he knew the men were hard at work to find
him. By now they would know from the guards on the stream that he was still on the
fiat, and had not
38
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTTE
35
ed. Those guards might be creatures of his own imagination, knowing the men with
whom he dealt, he felt it was a safe bet if they had not guarded the openings before
his arrival, they would have sent guards out at once.
The canyon was narrow. He rode on, moving with extreme yet when he had gone but a
short distance he saw the ,,end of the canyon rising above him, black and somber.
His throat and his mouth went dry. The palouse stopped and Tom sat silent, feeling
the labored breathing of the horse and he faced a stone wall. He was trapped.
iii Behind him, a light flared briefly, then went out. There was a That had been
a struck match--somebody looking for tracks. had found them. In a few minutes, for
they would move they would be on him.
There would be no reasoning with them now. They had him. was trapped!
39
 FIVE
C
aptain Tom Kedrick sat very still, listening. He heard some gravel stir. A stone
rattled down the canyon. Every move would count now, and he must take no unnecessary
chance. He was cornered, and while he did not want to kill any of these men, he had
no intention of being killed.
Carefully, he dismounted. As his boot touched the sand he tested it to make sure
no sound would result when his weight settled. Haste now was his greatest danger.
There might be nothing he could do, but he was a man of many experiences, and in
the past there had always been a way out. Usually there was, if a man took his time
and kept his head.
Standing still beside the appaloosa, he studied the situation. His eyes had grown
accustomed to the darkness under the bulk of Yellow Butte. He stared around, seeing
the faint gray of sand underfoot, the black bulk of boulders and the more ragged
stretch of underbrush. Leading his horse, he followed a narrow strip of gray that
showed an opening between boulders.
Scarcely wide enough to admit his horse, the opening led back for some twenty feet,
then widened. These were low boulders,
36
40
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUqq'E
37
scarcely above his waist, with the brush somewhat higher. horse seemed to sense the
danger, for it, too, walked quietly almost without sound.
Literally, he was feeling his way in the dark. But he knew that
of sand must come from somewhere, for water had run here, that water might spill
off the cliff edge, or might come through
opening. Walking steadily, he found himself going deeper a tangle of boulders, weaving
his way along that thin gray into he knew not what.
he paused and with his hat, worked back along the path out the tracks. He could not
see how good a job he was but the opening was narrow enough to give him a good of
success. When he had pushed back into the tangle for of ten minutes, he was brought
up sharply by the cliff itself.
had found his way up the slope, through the talus, brush and
boulders, to the very face of the rock.
Above him, and apparently out of reach, was a notch in the cliff,
this was probably the source of the sandy trail he had followed.
now, he ground-hitched the palouse and moved along
cliff, feeling his way along the face, searching each crack. ;:To his left, he found
nothing. Several times he paused to listen,
no sound came from down the canyon. If this was a box
with no exit, the men would probably know it and make attempt to close in until daylight.
In the darkness a man could
up quite a fight in here. Yet, because of their eagerness to
the dead man, they might push on.
i Speaking softly to the horse, he worked his way along the face
right, but here the pile of talus fell off sharply and he
into a hollow. It was cool and the air felt damp. There
even be a spring there, but he heard no water running. Despite the coolness he was
sweating and he paused, mopping
face and listening. As he stood there he felt a faint breath of ..Wind against his
cheek!
He stiffened with surprise, then with a sudden surge of hope,
turned and eagerly explored the rocky face. But could find no source for that breeze.
He started on, moving more cautiously. .iThen the talus began to steepen under his
feet, so he worked his
way up the cliff alone. He carried his rifle with him.
41
 38
Louis L'AMOUR
At the top he could turn and glance back down the canyon at the faint grayness in
the distance that indicated the way he had come. Here the canyon turned a bit, ending
in a sort of blind alley on an angle from the true direction of the canyon. There,
breaking the edge of the cliff above him, was a notch. A steep slide led to the top.
It must have been some vague stirring of wind from up there on the rim that had touched
his cheek. He noted that the slide was steeper than a stairway and might start sliding
underfoot. Certainly, such a sound would give away his attempt, and it would be the
matter of only a few minutes before he would be encircled. As far as that went, the
men could even now be patrolling the rim above him.
Turning, his foot went from under him and only a frenzied grasp at some brush kept
him from falling into whatever hole he had stumbled upon. Scrambling back to good
footing, he dropped a pebble and heard it strike some fifteen or twenty feet down.
Working his way along the edge, he reached the foot of the slide and knew what he
had come upon.
Water, flooding down that slide during heavy rains, had struck a soft stratum of
sand or mud and, striking it with force, had gouged out a deep cut that probably
ran back into the canyon itself. There was always a chance that deep within this
crack there might be some hiding place, some concealment. Turning abruptly, he returned
for his horse.
The slide continued steeply to the bottom of the crevasse scooped from the earth,
and when they reached bottom he glanced up. The cut had taken him at least fifteen
feet below the regular terrain of the area. Above him he saw a swath of dark sky
that stretched about seven feet between the sides of the cut. He led the horse deeper
along the narrow bed, and after only a short distance he noted that the top of the
cut immediately above him was almost covered by a thick growth of brush growing together
from the sides near the top.
It was cool and still down here, and he pushed on until he found a spot where the
rush of water had made a turn, and had gouged deeply under the bank, making a sort
of cave beneath the overhang. Into this he led his horse, and here he stopped. A
little
42
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUttE
39
stood at the deepest part of the turn, and he allowed the to drink. When the horse
had finished, the shallow pool gone.
Kedrick tried the water in his canteen, then stripped the saddle the horse and rubbed
him down with a handful of coarse Then he tied the horse, and spreading his blanket,
rolled in it. He was philosophical. He had done what he could. If found him now there
was nothing to do but shoot it out he was.
Surprisingly, he slept, and when he awakened it was the startled of the palouse that
warned him. Instantly, he was on feet, speaking in a whisper to the horse and resting
his hand on shoulder. Day had come, and somewhere above them, yet distance, there
were voices.
The cave in which he stood was dug in sandstone, no more than feet in depth, and
probably eight feet high at the open Kedrick moved to the mouth, studied the crevasse
down he had come. It was as he had supposed, a deep-cut water from the notch in the
cliff. Evidently during heavy rains bed roared full of water, almost to the brim.
At the place where he now stood the brush on either side met over the top, and at
one point a fallen slab bridged the Glancing back the way he had come, Kedrick saw
that of it was also covered by brush, and there was a chance that not be found. A
very, very slim chance. He could ask no more.
.He wanted to smoke, but dared not, for the smell of tobacco warn them of his presence.
Several times he heard voices, of them quite near. He glanced toward the back of
the cave saw the gelding drinking again. Evidently water had seeped
during the night, even though not much. His canteen over half full, and as yet water
was not a problem.
His rifle across his knees, he waited, from time to time staring down the crevasse
in the direction he had been going. Where did this water flow? Probably into the
arroyo below, near town, and
that case the townspeople would certainly know of it.
43
 40
Louis L'AMOUR
Yet as the morning wore on, although he heard occasionally the sound of voices, nobody
approached his place of concealment, nor did anyone seem aware of it. Once, he ventured
out into the crevasse itself and pulled a few handfuls of grass growing on a slight
mound of earth. This he fed to the horse, who ate gratefully. He dug some jerky from
his own pack and chewed on it, wishing for a cup of coffee.
Later, he ventured farther down the crevasse, which seemed to dip steeply from where
he was. Hearing no voices, he pushed on, coming to a point where the crevasse turned
sharply again. The force of the water had hollowed out a huge cave which looked like
a bowl standing on edge. Then the water had turned and shot down an even steeper
declivity into the black maw of a cavern.
Having come this far he took a chance on leaving his horse alone and walked on down
toward the cave. The entrance was high and wide and the cave extended deep into the
mountain with several shelves or ledges that seemed to show no signs of water. There
was a pool in the bottom, and apparently the water filled a large basin, but lost
itself through some cracks in the bottom of the larger hollow.
Although he penetrated no great distance he could find no evidence of another outlet,
nor could he feel any motion of air. Yet, as he looked around him, he realized that
with some food a man might well hide in this place for weeks, and unless someone
went to the foot of the slide and found the opening into the crevasse, this place
might never be discovered.
The run-off from the cliff, then, did not go to the arroyo, but ended here, in this
deep cavern.
The day wore on slowly. Twice he walked back down to the cavern to smoke, leaving
his horse where it was. In a few hours he would try to make his escape. Yet when
dusk came, and he worked his way back up the crevasse slide and crawled out on the
edge where he could look toward the entrance, he saw two men squatting there beside
a fire. They had rifles. They believed him concealed somewhere near and hoped to
starve him out.
Kedrick knew that by this time Dornie Shaw must have returned to Mustang with news
of his disappearance, and probably, of their murder of the messenger. For he was
sure that it had
44
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTI'E
41
his own group who had committed the crime. It was scarcely ;sible that Gunter or
Keith would countenance such open vionear town where it could not fail to be seen
and reported by unfriendly witnesses.
Returning, he studied the slide to the rim. It was barely possithat a horse might
scramble up there. It would be no trick for active man, and the palouse was probably
a mountain horse. It worth a gamble . . . if there was no one on top to greet him.
an armful of grass from near the brush and boulders, he to the horse, and watched
it gratefully munch the rich grass.
Connie Duane was disturbed. She had seen the messenger come her uncle and the others,
and had heard their reply. Then, almost noon the following day, Dornie Shaw and the
other had come in. Tom Kedrick had not returned with them.
Why that should disturb her she could not have said, but the fact remained that it
did. Since he had stepped up on the veranda she had thought of little else, remembering
the set of his chin,
way he carried his shoulders, and the startled expression when he saw her. There
was something about him that was different, not only from the men around her uncle,
but from any man she had known before.
Now, when despite herself she had looked forward to his re:turn, he was missing.
John Gunter came out on the veranda, nervously biting the end from a cigar. "What
happened?" she asked. "Is something wrong? Where's Captain Kedrick?"
"Wish I knew!" His voice was sharp with anxiety. "'He took a ride to look over those
squatters an' never came back. I don't trust Shaw, no matter how much Keith does.
He's too bloodthirsty. We could get into a lot of trouble here, Connie. That's why
I wanted Kedrick. He has judgment, brains."
"Perhaps he decided he wanted no part of it, Uncle. Maybe he decided your squatters
were not outlaws or renegades."
Gunter glanced at her sharply. "Who has been talking to you?" he demanded.
45
 42
Louis L'AMOUR
"No one. It hasn't been necessary. I have walked around town, and I've seen that
some of these outlaws, as you call them, have wives and children, that they buy supplies
and look like nice, likeable people. I don't like it, Uncle John, and I don't like
to think that my money may be financing a part of it."
"Now, now! Don't bother your head over it. You may be sure that Loren and I will
do everything we can for your best interests."
"Then drop this whole thing!" she pleaded. "There's no need for it. I've money enough,
and I don't want money that comes from depriving others of their homes. They all
have a right to live, a chance."
"Of course!" Gunter was impatient. "We've gone over all this before. But I tell you
most of those people are trash, and no matter about that, they all will be put off
that land, anyway. The Government is going to buy out whoever has control. That will
mean us, and that means we'll get a nice, juicy profit."
"From the Government? Your own Government, Uncle?" Connie studied him coolly. "I
fail to understand the sort of man who will attempt to defraud his own Government.
There are people like that, I suppose, but somehow I never thought I'd find one in
my own family."
"Don't be silly, child. You know nothing of business, you aren't practical."
"I suppose not. Only I seem to remember that a lot of worthwhile things don't seem
practical at the moment. No," she got to her feet, "I believe I'll withdraw my investment
in this deal and buy a small ranch somewhere nearby. I will have no part in it."
"You can't do that!" Gunter exploded impatiently. "Your money is already in, and
there's no way of getting it out until this business is closed. Now, why don't you
trust me like a good girl? You always have before!"
"Yes, I have, Uncle John, but I never believed you could be dishonest." She studied
him frankly. "You aren't very happy about this yourself. You know," she persisted,
"those people aren't going to move without a fight. You believed they could be frightened.
Well, they can't. I've seen Bob McLennon, and he's not the kind of a man who can
be frightened. Even by that choice bunch of murderers Loren has gathered together."
46
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTI'E
43
"They aren't that. Not murderers," Gunter protested uneasily, refused to meet her
eyes. "Reckless, yes. And temperamenNot murderers."
"Not even Dornie Shaw? The nice-looking, boyish one who has
a dozen men and is so cold-blooded and fiendish at times others are afraid of him?
No, Uncle, there is no way you can
this. If you continue, you are going to countenance murand the killing of innocent
people.
"Loren doesn't care. He has always been cold-blooded. You've
why I wouldn't marry him. That's why. He has the ;ition of a tiger. He would kill
anything or anyone that stood his way. Even you, Uncle John."
He started and looked at her uneasily. "Why do you say that?" .... Because it's true.
I know our tall and handsome man. He will
nothing to come between him and what he desires. You've
some choice companions." She got to her feet. "If you
anything of Captain Kedrick, let me know, will you?" Gunter stood still for a long
time after she left. He swore
Connie was like her mother. She always had the faculty
her finger on the truth, and certainly, she was right
this. It was beginning to look ugly, but away down deep in heart, he was upset less
over Keith than over Burwick. That
fat, and dirty man was a thing of evil, of corruption.
was some foul thing within him, something cold and vias a striking snake.
Connie Duane was not the only person who was disturbed over
strange disappearance of Tom Kedrick.
McLennon, unofficial commander of the forces for defense,
in his rambling ranch house on the edge of Yellow Butte. Pete Burt Williams, Dai
Reid and Pit Laine were all gathered With them was Sue Laine, keeping to the background.
dark, lovely eyes were stirring from one to the other, her were alert for every word.
"Blazes, man!" McLennon said irritably. "Where could he have I'd have sworn he went
into that box canyon. There was no
47
 44
Louis L'AMOUR
other place for him to go---unless he took wings and flew. He had
to go in there."
"You looked yourself," Slagle said dryly. "Did you see him? He
just ain't there, that's all! He got plumb away."
"He probably did that," Dai Reid commented. "A quick man,
that Tom Kedrick. Hand or mind, he's quick." He drew out his pipe and stoked it slowly.
"You shouldn't have jumped him," he continued. "I know the lad, an' he's honest.
If he said that was what he come for, it was the truth he told. I'd take my oath
he'd no knowledge of the killin'!"
"I'd like to believe that," McLennon agreed. "The man impressed me. We could use
an honest man on the other side, one who would temper the wind a bit, or get this
thing stopped."
"It won't be that Shaw who stops. He's a murderin' little devil," Slagle said. "He'll
kill like a weasel in a chicken pen until there's nought left to kill."
"Kedrick fought me fair," Williams said. "I'll give him that." "He's a fair man,"
Dai persisted. "Since a lad I've known him. I'd not be wrong. I'd give fifty acres
of my holdin' for the chance to talk to him."
Daylight brought the first attack. It came swiftly, a tight bunch of riders who exploded
from the mouth of the arroyo, hit the dusty street of Yellow Butte on a dead run,
pistols firing, and then there followed the deep, heavy concussion of dynamite. As
suddenly as they had come, they were gone. Two men sprawled in the street.
Peters, the man Shaw had faced down in the streets of Mustang, was one of them. He
had taken three .44 slugs through the chest and died before he hit the ground. He
had made one fine effort to win back his self-respect. He had seen Dornie Shaw in
the van of the charging raiders and rushed into the street to get him. He failed
to get off a single shot.
The second man down was shot through the thigh and arm. He was a Swede who had just
put in his second crop.
The riders had planned their attack well and had worked near enough to the guards
at the mouth of the arroyo, and had come at
48
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTTE
45
a time when no attack was expected. The one guard awake was down by a charging horse,
but miraculously, suffered i only bruises. Two bundles of dynamite had been thrown.
One had exploded against the door of the general store, smashing it off :its hinges
and tearing up the porch. The second exploded harmbetween the buildings.
The first rattle of rifle fire brought Tom Kedrick to an observation point. He had
saddled his horse, hoping for a break, and instantly he saw it. The two guards had
rushed to the scene of action. Quickly, he led his horse out of the crevasse, rode
at a to the canyon's mouth. Seeing dust over the town, he :swung right and skirting
close to the Butte, slipped out into the open--a free man once more.
49
 SIX
K
edrick did not return toward Mustang. He had come this far for a purpose, and he
meant to achieve it. Turning west and north, he rode upstream away from Yellow Butte
and Mustang. He wanted actually to see some of the homes of which so much had been
said. By the way these people lived he could tell the sort they were. It was still
morning and all was motionless and warm. Soon he slowed his horse to a walk and studied
the terrain.
Certainly, nothing could be farther from swampland. In that, at least, the company
had misrepresented. Obviously, they had lied in maintaining that the land was vacant.
But if the squatters were a shiftless lot, Kedrick knew he would continue his job.
Already he was heartily sick of the whole mess, yet he owed Gunter money, and how
to pay it back was a real problem. And then, although the idea lurked almost unthought
in the back of his consciousness, there was Connie Duane.
In his fast-moving and active life he had met many women, and a few had interested
him, but none so much as this tall girl with the quiet, alert eyes. His desire to
get back to Mustang had nothing to do with the company, but only with her. At the
same
46
50
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTI'E
47
Dornie Shaw had acted without his orders, had slain the messenger and attacked the
town. For all he knew, Dornie and ithe others might think him dead.
Turning due north, he rode through the sagebrush and catclaw two towering blue mountains.
They stood alone this side 'the rim that bordered the country to the north. On his
left, he broken land, and what was evidently a deep arroyo. He swung appaloosa over
and headed it toward the canyon. Suddenly, reined in.
On the ground before him were the tracks of a trotting horse, he recognized them.
They were the same tracks left by the rider on the grulla mustang who had scouted
their apto Yellow Butte. The tracks were fresh.
Riding more slowly, he came to the edge of the canyon and down at a long green meadow,
fenced and watered by a stream. At the far side, tucked in a corner, was a stone
It was more attractive and better built than any other he seen in this section. Ahead
of him he saw a trail. Without he rode down it and walked his horse across the meadow
the house.
i It was a pleasant place of sandstone blocks and a thatched roof. trees sheltered
the yard, and there were a half-dozen hens about, In the corral there were several
horses. His heart ed as he saw the grulla, saddled and waiting.
He drew up in the dooryard and swung down, trailing his The door opened and a girl
came out with a pan of water. started as she saw him, and he recognized her instantly.
It Sue Laine, the girl of the trail, the girl in whom Dornie was to be interested.
"You!" she gasped as she stared at him. "They told me you dead!"
He shrugged. "Not dead, just hungry. Could you feed a man?" She studied him a minute,
then nodded. "Come in. Better tie horse, though. He'll head for that meadow if you
don't. her voice was dry, "you may need him. This isn't exactly country."
He tied his horse near the grulla and followed her inside. "Isn't he said. "Somehow
I gathered you weren't exactly an enemy the company."
51
 48
Louis L'AMOUR
"Don't say that!" she flared. "Don't ever say that!" Her voice lowered. "Not around
here, anyway. If my brother ever heard..."
So Pit Laine and his sister did not see alike? That was an interesting point. He
washed his hands and face, then combed his hair.
Ruefully, he rubbed his chin. "Your brother got a razor? I hate
to go unshaven."
She brought a razor without comment. He shaved, then dried
his face and hands and walked into the house. It was amazingly neat. On a side table
there were several books. Flowered curtains hung at the windows, and several copper
dishes were burnished to brightness. He sat down and she brought him food: beef,
eggs, and homemade bread with honey.
"Everybody's looking for you," she said. "Where have you been?" He accepted the statement
and ignored the question. "After that messenger was killed, I had to get out of Yellow
Butte. I did. What's been happening?"
"Keith served a final ultimatum. We either move, or they run
us out. McLennon refused."
"He did right."
She turned on him, her eyes questioning. "You think that? I thought you were their
man?"
He looked up from his food and shook his head. "I don't know where I stand, but I
don't go for murder, not for running people out of their homes."
"They can't stay, anyway. If this land becomes a reservation
they will all be moved off. We will, too. They are foolish to fight."
"At least, the Government will buy their land and pay for their investment. In any
event, the company has misrepresented things."
"Does it matter?" She sat down opposite him. "They will win.
They have money, influence, and power. The settlers here have nothing." She looked
around her bitterly. "Perhaps you think I am going against my own people, but that's
not true. These aren't my people. Pit and I don't belong here and we never have,
although Pit won't see it. Do you think I want to slave my life away on this desert?"
She leaned toward him. "Look, Captain Kedrick, you're one of them, not just working
for them, not just a hired gunman like
52
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUE
49
Shaw. You can lead the men you have, and I wouldn't be 'ised but what you could even
handle Keith. You could be a man in this country, or any country.
"Why be foolish and start thinking like you are? These farmers ranchers can do nothing
for you. They can't even help them The company will win, and if you are one of them,
you have a share in the winning. Don't be foolish, Captain. Stay them. Do what you
have to do."
"There are things more important than money. There's self
She stared at him, her eyes widening. "You don't really believe
Try buying supplies with it, sometime. You won't get any But that isn't the point.
You'll do what you want, but I a man who will take me out of this desert." She got
up
and came around the table. "You could do it, Captain. could become rich, right here."
He smiled at her. 'Ambitious, aren't you?"
"Why not? Being a rancher's wife doesn't appeal to me. I want
away from here, go someplace, be something and enjoy
She hesitated, studying him. "You could edge Gunter out of and Keith--maybe even
Burwick. But the first two would be
I know how."
do?" He looked up at her. She stood very close to him, she was smiling down at him.
She was, he had to admit, a
girl. And an exciting one. Too exciting for comfort right
and that was a fact she understood conapletely. "How?" She shook her head. "Oh, no!
That I'd tell you only if you
in with me, joined me. But this much I'll tell youmJohn
is small potatoes. They needed money, and he had that
money so they roped him in. Keith is dangerous because he ambitious and unscrupulous,
but the man to reckon with is
He will be top man when this thing is over, and you can on it. He has a way figured,
all the time." "You seem to know a great deal."
"I do. Men like me and men talk. They don't have any idea
much I lead them to say, or how much I remember." "Why tell me all this?"
"Because you're the man who can do what has to be done. You
53
 50
Louis L'AMOUR
could whip that bunch into line. All of them would listen to you,
even Dornie Shaw--and he's suspicious of you."
"Of me? Why?"
"He saw Dai Reid come from your room. He was watching
you."
So that was it? He had suspected that Shaw had something on
his mind. But why had Shaw been watching? What was the gunman thinking of?. And had
he reported that conference to Keith?
Kedrick finished his meal and lighted a cigarette. Ever since
their first meeting in the desert this girl had puzzled him. He was inclined to doubt
if any girl, reared as she must have been, could be so sincerely disdaining of all
loyalty, and so plainly self-seeking. She seemed scarcely more than a child, slim,
brown and lovely, with her quick, measuring eyes and her soft lips.
Now, apparently she had selected him as the man who was to
take her away from the desert. But 'how many others held the
same idea? However, he had no idea of leaving the desert.
"Your brother around?" he asked.
Her glance was a quick flash of alarm. "You don't want to see
him, or talk to him. You'd better get out of here."
"On the contrary, Sue, I'd like to talk to Pit. I've heard about
him and I'd like to know him."
"You'd better go," she warned. "He'll be back soon, and some
of that Yellow Butte crowd may be with him."
"You mean he's not here? Then whose horse is that out there?
That grulla?"
Her face was strange as she shook her head. "You'll think I'm a
liar, but I don't know. I never saw the rider."
His eyes searched hers. He could see nothing but sincerity there, sincerity and a
little fear. "You mean that horse showed up there, tied like that? And you never
saw the rider?"
"That's right. I looked out this morning, shortly after Pit left,
and he was tied right there. This isn't the first time! He has been here twice before,
when Pit was gone, and some others have seen him, most of them women when their husbands
are away. Mrs. Burt Williams said he was tied to her corral for three or four hours
one day."
"But surely someone sees the rider come and mount up?"
54
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUqq'E
51
"Never. He'll be out there like he is now--he's gone!" Kedrick came to his feet with
a start and stared out the door.
was right. The mouse-colored horse was gone. His own palouse
where he had left it, but the grulla had disappeared. Walking out into the yard,
he looked around very carefully. But
was nothing in sight on the plain or the hills. The horse was
He looked at her and saw the strained expression on her Then he walked out to the
appaloosa. Pinned to his saddle a note. He grabbed it up and glanced at it, then
passed it to who had come up beside him.
"Stay away."
Kedrick shrugged. "Your brother do this?"
"Oh, no! I told him about the horse and he knew no more it than I. Besides, he didn't
print that. He couldn't. Pit learned to either read or write."
Long after he left the Malpais Arroyo behind, he was puzzling
the strange horse. Somebody was seriously trying either to
or frighten the squatters. Yet it was an action unlike the
Moreover, it must be somebody who had a lot of time
spend.
Kedrick rode north toward Blue Hill, then swung east, crossing
Old Mormon Trail and skirting the rim.
This was good grazing land. There was an abundance of rough
here and a good herd of cattle could fatten on this range
trouble. Moreover, the herding problem was solved in by the rim, which provided a
natural drift fence beyond
the cattle could not go.
When he reached Salt Creek he turned down the creek toward
river. Swinging east again and passing near Chimney Rock, he
southeast until he struck the Hogback Trail. Once over that
he headed due east for Mustang.
Yet as always, his eyes were alive and alert. He loved this land,
though it might be at some times. He loved the dim purand blues, the far-flung mists
and morning and night, the
of the sagebrush, and the rust-red of the sandstone. It
a good country, and there was room for all if it were left open settlement.
55
 52
Louis L'AMOUR
His own mind was not yet resolved. The problem of his debt to Gunter weighed heavily
upon him, and there were other considerations. He wanted no trouble, and to withdraw
now might mean plenty of it. This was especially so if he remained in the country,
which he had every reason to do. He would try to talk the company out of withdrawing,
but he knew that would fail.
Just where, in all this, did Connie Duane actually stand? Was she involved more deeply
than he believed? Or was it only what had been implied, that her uncle had invested
her money in the land speculation? If such was the case, it might be difficult or
impossible to get out at this stage--even if they would allow it.
Burwick puzzled him. Obviously the controlling power, he gave no evidence of where
that power came from aside from some native shrewdness. There might be much more
to the man, and evidently there was. That Keith and Gunter deferred to him was obvious.
Purposely, Kedrick had said nothing of his hideaway, near Yellow Butte when talking
to Sue. That young lady already knew more than was good for her, and that spot might
again become useful. It was something to know.
Mustang was asleep when he rode into the town and headed for the stable. He put his
horse up and rubbed it thoroughly, gave it a good bait of corn and forked down some
hay. Then he made his way quietly to the St. James. As he neared the hotel a tall,
lean figure arose from the chair where he himself had been sitting a few days before.
The build and the broad hat, the very hang of the guns left no mistake. It was Laredo
Shad.
"Cap'n?" The voice was low. "You all right?"
"Yes, and you?"
Shad chuckled. "Don't worry none about Shad! I stay healthy." He motioned to a chair.
"You better sit down. I've been hopin' you'd show up."
"What's the talk? Did they think I was dead, or skipped the country?"
"Some o' both, I reckon. Keith was fit to be tied. He wants to
see you as soon as you show--no matter when."
"He'll wait. I'm tired."
Shad nodded, then lighted his cigarette, which had gone out. "You know, I ain't right
sure about this business."
56
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUT'rE
53
Kedrick nodded. "I know what you mean. I'm not the man to
run folks out of their homes."
"You quittin'?"
"Not yet. I'll talk to 'em first."
"Won't do no good. They are mighty bloodthirsty. It was Poinsett
that messenger. Dornie put him up to it. Poinsett killed him, an' then four, five
of those rannies shot up the body. I don't think
:ii
Fessenden shot any, an' maybe Goff didn't. You can lay your last peso I didn't shoot
none. It was mighty raw, Cap'n, mighty raw!"
"They'll pay for it. Were you on the Yellow Butte raid?"
"Uh huh, but I didn't shoot nobody. I'm no Bible packer, Cap'n, but I do figure a
fightin' man shouldn't tackle folks who cain't fight back, an' I ain't the man to
be firin' on no women or kids." .. "What are they talkin' up now? Any plans you know
of?."
;had hesitated, then shrugged. "Reckon you'd better talk that with them, Cap'n. I
may know somethin' but I ain't tellin',
yet."
i The Texan sat silent for a few minutes while both men smoked,
then he waved an impatient hand. "Cap'n, I hired on as a
an' such I am, but I didn't figure on this sort o' thing. of those hombres on the
other side o' this shindig look a
sight more human than some on our own side. I'm gettin' o' the whole shebang."
i: "Uh huh--" surprisingly, Kedrick found resolution coming to
know how you feel, but my own way will be different. I if I can't talk Gunter an'
the rest of them out of that I'll
sides."
Shad nodded. "I've thought of it. I sure have."
Kedrick turned suddenly and found Dornie Shaw standing not
feet behind them. Slowly, he got to his feet, and Laredo
likewise. Shaw's eyes avoided Kedrick. "If you figure on us, Shad, you better figure
on killin' me first." "If I have to," Laredo said quietly, "then I reckon you can
die simple as any other man. Want to try it now?"
"That's enough, Shad!" Kedrick's voice was sharp. "I've said
would be no more fighting! Not in this outfit!"
Dornie Shaw turned his head slowly and smiled at Kedrick.
like to give orders, do you? Maybe that'll be changed."
57
 54
Louis L'AMouR
"Maybe." Tom Kedrick shrugged. "There will be time enough
for me to stop giving orders. I'm turning in."
"Keith wants to see you."
"He can wait. I've had a rough time. There's nothing he wants won't wait."
"Shall I tell him that?"
"If you like."
Shaw smiled again. "You must carry a lot o' weight where you come from, Kedrick,
but don't forget it ain't here. Keith is a bad man to buck. So's Burwick."
Kedrick shrugged again. "I've bucked worse. But at the moment, I'm bucking nobody.
I need sleep, and by the Lord Harry, sleep is what I'll get. Whatever Keith has on
his mind can wait until daylight. I'll be up then."
Shaw started to go, then hesitated, unable to restrain his curiosity. "What happened
to you? We figured you were dead or taken prisoner when you didn't come back."
For the first time Kedrick began to wonder. Had Shaw wanted the messenger killed
for that very reason. Had he deliberately moved that way hoping the enraged settlers
would kill Kedrick? It was most likely. "It doesn't matter," he said, passing off
the remark casually. "I found a way to keep out of sight."
Shaw turned away, and when he had gone only a few steps, Tom Kedrick spoke up suddenly.
"By the way, Dornie. Know anybody who rides a grulla mustang?"
Shaw stopped abruptly, but he did not turn. His whole body had seemed to stiffen.
Then he started on. "No," he said gruffly, "I sure don't."
Laredo Shad stared after him. "You know, pardner, you'll either kill that hombre
someday or you'll be killed."
"Uh huh," Kedrick said quietly, "I've the same feeling."
58
 SEVEN
was pacing the floor in the office at the gray stone build when Kedrick walked in.
He stopped and turned swiftly. Shaw tells me you came in after midnight. Why didn't
you come me according to my orders?"
'"Frankly, I was tired. Furthermore," Kedrick returned Keith's "I'd nothing to report
that wouldn't keep."
' "You were hired to do a job, and you haven't done it." Keith with his hands on
his hips. "Where've you been?" Briefly and clearly, Kedrick explained, omitting only
the visit Laine's and the story of the hideout. "Frankly," he said, "have looked
the situation over, I'd say you had small chance of those people off. Also, you and
Gunter misrepresented to me and the Government. That land is occupied not by and
outlaws, but by good, solid people. You can't get with running them off."
I Keith smiled contemptuously. "Gettin' scared? You were sup to be a fighting man!
As for what we can do or can't do, let tell you this, Kedrick: we've started to run
those people off, we'll do it! With or without you! Hiring you was Gunter's anyway."
59
 56
Louis L'AMOUR
"That's right, it was." Gunter, followed by Burwick, walked
into the room, and he glanced swiftly from Kedrick to Keith. "If you're complainin'
about his going to look over that country, you can stop. I sent him."
"Did you tell him to come back scared to death? Saying we
can't swing it?"
Burwick had been silent, but now he moved to the big chair behind the desk and dropped
into it. He sighed heavily and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, then
glanced at Kedrick keenly. "What did you find out?"
"That they are determined to fight. I talked to Bob McLennon
and to Slagle. There's no quit in those men. They'll fight at the drop of a hat,
and to the last ditch. Right now, at this minute, they are ready for anything. Your
raid killed one man, wounded another. The dynamite blasted a door loose and blew
a hole in the porch."
Burwick turned swiftly and glared at Keith. "You told me three
men dead and a building destroyed! Hereafter you be sure reports to me are accurate."
He swung back to Kedrick. "Go on,
what happened to you? You got away?"
"I'm here."
Their eyes met and held for a long time. Burwick's stone cold
and hard, examining, probing.
"What do you think of the deal?" he asked finally.
"The fight," Kedrick replied carefully, "will raise a stink clear
to Washington. Remember the Lincoln County War? We'll have us another general down
here, and you know how much profit you'll make out of that place then!"
Burwick nodded his huge head. "Sensible, that's sensible! Have
to think our way around that. At least," he glared again at Keith and Gunter, "this
man can bring in some sensible ideas and make
a coherent report. You two could learn from him."
He looked up at Kedrick. "Anything else?"
"A couple of things. There's a mysterious rider out on those plains. Rides a mouse-colored
horse, and he's got those folks more jittery than all your. threats."
"Hah?" Burwick was uninterested. He shuffled papers on his
desk. "What's this I hear about you quittin'?"
60
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTTE
57
"I won't be a party to murder. These people aren't outlaws, but
substantial folks. I'd say: buy them out or leave them alone." ,"You aren't running
this fair!" Keith replied coldly. "We will
de what is to be done."
"Nobody quits," Burwick said quietly, his eyes on Kedrick's,
I say so."
Tom Kedrick smiled suddenly. "Then you'd better say so, be I've quit, as of now!"
Gunter protested. "Let's talk this over."
"What of the money you owe the firm?" Keith demanded,
¢. "You can repay that, I suppose?"
"There's no need."
They all turned at the voice. Connie Duane stood in the door. have money of mine
in this project. When Uncle John got it me he told me it was a real-estate speculation.
His other
have been honest and practical, so I did not investigate.
I have. I shall, withdraw my money, and you can pay me the sum advanced to Captain
Kedrick. He may repay me
circumstances permit it."
All in the room were still. Gunter's face was pale, and Keith
startled, then angry. He started to protest, but he was too
Burwick turned on Gunter. "You--" he snorted angrily. told me that was your money.
You fool! What do you mean,
a woman into a deal like this? Well, you brought her in. you manage her or I shall."
"Nobody," Connie replied, "is managing me or my affairs from
on. I'll handle them myself!." She turned to Kedrick. "I'm Captain, that you've made
this decision. I am sure you'll not sorry for it."
Kedrick turned to follow her from the room, but Burwick's
stopped him. "Captain!"
He turned. Keith's eyes were ugly and Gunter's face was haunted doubt and fear. "Captain
Kedrick," Burwick said, "I believe are all being too hasty. I like your caution in
this matter. Your
that cleaning out those people might make trouble and
talk in Washington is probable. I had considered that, but
knowing McLennon, had considered the chance negligible. "Slagle," he added, "I know.
McLennon I do not know. Your
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 58
Louis L'AMOUR
suggestion eliminates a frontal attack. We must try some other means. Also," he added,
"I believe that your presence has some claim on that of Miss Duane. Consequently,
as we can brook no failure now, I have a proposition for you. How would you like
to come into the firm? As a silent partner?"
Keith's face flushed angrily, but Gunter looked up his eyes suddenly hopeful. Burwick
continued. "We could give you a fifteen per cent interest, which, believe me, will
be adequate. I believe you could keep Miss Duane in line, and with you at the helm
we might straighten this whole thing out--without bloodshed."
Kedrick hesitated. The money was a temptation, for he had no desire to be indebted
to Connie, yet the money alone would mean nothing. It was that last phrase that gripped
his attention and made him incautious. "Without bloodshed," he repeated. "On those
terms, I accept. However, let's discuss this matter a bit further."
Keith spun on his heel. "Burwick, this doesn't make sense! You know the only way
we'll get those people off is by driving them off. We agreed on that before. Also
this man is not reliable. I happen to know that he has friends on the other side
and has actually been in communication with them."
"So much the better." Burwick pursed his fat lips and mopped perspiration from his
face. "He'll have a contact he can use to make a deal." He chuckled. "Suppose you
two run along and let me talk to Captain Kedrick?"
Hours later, Tom Kedrick paused on the street and studied it with care. Burwick had
been more than reasonable. Little as he was able to trust him, he thought it possible
that Burwick was sincere in his agreement to buy off a few of them, and to try to
convince others. Certainly, if the Government moved in they would have to move, anyway.
With McLennon and Slagle out of the picture the chances were there would be no fight,
for the others lacked leadership. No fighting meant no deaths, and the settlers at
least would come out of it with a little money.
He paced the street irritably, avoiding company. Burwick stank of deceit, but the
man was a practical man. He realized that a sudden mess of killings preceding the
sale of the land would create a furor that might cause them to lose out all around.
At
62
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTI'E
59
trouble had been avoided for the time and even Connie was that something might be
done. Tomorrow Kedrick inreturning again to try to make some deal with McLennon
Slagle. A neutral messenger was leaving tonight.
'"rhey won't come to town," Burwick had agreed, "so why not some intermediate point?
Meet them, say, at Largo Canyon
Chimney Rock? Have your talk there, and I'll come with you. you and me, McLennon
and Slagle. We can talk there and ,be make peace. Ain't it worth a try?"
It was only that chance for peace that had persuaded him and him to persuade Connie.
She had listened in silence as he the situation. Then she had turned to him frankly.
you don't trust them, and neither do I. Uncle John has been this way before, and
I believe somehow he has fallen the domination of those other men. However, I think
that urwick is willing to talk, we should at least agree. I'll stand by in this and
we'll hope something can come of it that will trouble."
Kedrick was less hopeful than he had let it appear, and now he studying the situation
from every angle. As things stood, it a stalemate. He was confident that with McLennon
and Slagle them, the settlers could manage a stiff defense of their and their homes.
Certainly, they could prevent the survey completed and prevent any use being made
of their lands. iYet there were fiery elements on both sides, and Keith did not the
turn things had taken. Colonel Loren Keith had from the planned on striking fast
and wiping out the opposition. would be merely another unsolved mystery of the West.
Kedrick
to keep an eye on the man and be prepared for anything. He returned to the St. James
and to bed, yet he awakened and was surprised to see Keith mounted and riding out
of at daybreak.
a bound he was out of bed and dressing. Whatever Keith in mind, he meant to know.
Swiftly, he descended the stairs to the livery stable. Mounted, he headed out of
town, Keith's tracks with ease, and followed them. Keith turned
the trail and headed west and slightly north. But after a few Kedrick lost the trail
and took a wide swing to try and cut
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 60
LovIs L'AMovR
it again. He was unable to. Keith had vanished somewhere in the vicinity of Largo
Canyon.
Returning to the hotel he found a message from Bob McLennon. He and Slagle would
meet with Burwick and Kedrick at Chimney Rock at three in the afternoon on Wednesday.
It was now Monday, and a whole day lay between. Yet during the remainder of Monday
he saw nothing of Dornie Shaw, although Laredo Shad appeared a couple of times, then
vanished into one of the saloons.
At midnight the door of his room opened slowly and Tom Kedrick, gun in hand, sat
up. It was Laredo Shad.
"Somethin's up," he said, dropping on the bed, "an' she looks mighty peculiar. Couple
of hours ago Poinsett an' Goff showed up an' said they had quit. No fightin' here,
so they were pullin' out for Durango. About a half hour later they mounted up an'
took out."
"What's peculiar about that?" Kedrick inquired, building a smoke. "That's in line
with Burwick's talk with me."
"Yeah," Shad replied dryly, "but both of them came in here with a good deal of gear.
They lost their pack horses somewheres and went out only with what they could carry
on the one horse, and durned little o' that."
"What about Fessenden?"
"Ain't seen him."
"Any of the others gone?"
"Clauson is. At least, he ain't around in sight. I ain't seen him since morning."
That left Shaw, who had been around little himself, and Fessenden, if he was still
in town. Despite himself, Kedrick was disturbed. But if Burwick was getting rid of
his gunfighters it was a good sign, and probably he, Tom Kedrick, was getting too
suspicious. Nothing, Shad said, had been said to him about quitting. "In fact,"'
he said dryly, "the Mixus boys pulled in this
morning, an' they went right to Burwick."
"Who are they?"
"Killers. Dry-gulchers, mostly. Bean an' Abe Mixus. They were in that Sandoval affair.
Couple of men died awful opportune in that affair, an' come to think of it, Burwick
was around. Fact is, that was where I met him."
64
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTI'E
61
"Were you in that?"
"Uh uh. I was in town, though, an' had me a run-in with Roy
Roy was a mighty tough ranny who'd been ramroddin' a spread down thataway, an' when
he got into the war he went
plumb bad. We'd had trouble over a steer, an' he braced He was a mite slow."
It made no sense--gunmen leaving, but others arriving. Of
the Mixus boys could have been spoken to before the
of plans. That must be it. He suggested as much to Laand the Texan nodded dubiously.
"Maybe. I don't trust that hombre none. Your man Gunter is in his head. Keith, well,
he's all around bad when it comes to but neither of them can hold a candle to that
Burwick."
Study the situation as he would, Tom Kedrick could see no
to it, and the fact remained that they were to meet Slagle McLennon for a peace conference.
Out of that anything might
and he had no real cause to distrust Burwick.
The morning was bright and clear with the sun promising a hot
It was still cool when Kedrick appeared on the street and
to the little restaurant where he ate in silence. He was on second cup of coffee
when Connie came in.
face brightened with a smile as she saw him, and she came to his table. "You know,
you're the one bright spot in this
I'm so tired of that old stone house and seeing that dirty man around that I can
scarcely stand it. I'll be glad when this
over."
He studied her. "What will you do then?"
"You know, I've not really thought of that. What I want to do is
get a ranch somewhere, a place with trees, grass, and some
water. It doesn't have to be a big place."
"Cattle?"
"A few, but horses are what I want. Horses like that one of
I think."
"Good idea. It takes less land for horses, and there's always market for good stock."
He studied the beauty of her mouth,
quietness and humor of her eyes. "Somehow I'm glad to
65
 62
Louis L'AMOUR
think you're staying. It wouldn't be the same without you. Not
now."
She looked at him quickly, her eyes dancing with laughter, but with the hint of a
question in their depths. "Why, Tom! That sounds almost like gallantry. Like you
were trying to make love to me, like all the cowboys."
"No, Connie," he said quietly, "when I make love to you there won't be any doubt
about it. You'll know and I won't be fooling." "Somehow I think you're right. You
wouldn't be fooling."
"Over west of here," he said, "west and south there's a great rim that stretches
for miles across the country, and a splendid pine forest atop it. There's trees,
water, game, and some of the finest mountain meadows a man ever saw. I know a place
over there where I camped once, a good spring, some tall trees, graceful in the wind,
and a long sweep of land clear to the rim's edge, and beyond it miles upon miles
Of rolling, sweeping range and forest."
"It sounds fascinating, like what I've been wanting ever since I came West."
He pushed back his chair. "Maybe when this is over, you'd ride over that way with
me? I'd like to show it to you." She looked up at him. "All right, Tom. We'll look
at it together." He paused, hat in hand, staring out the door. "Together . . ." he
mused. Then he glanced down at her. "You know, Connie, that's the most beautiful
word in the language--together."
He walked away then, pausing to pay his check and hers, then stepping outside into
the warmth of the street. A buckboard had stopped and a man was getting out of it,
a man who moved warily and looked half frightened. He glanced around swiftly, then
ducked through the door into the store.
66
 EIGHT
men crossed the street suddenly. One of them was a man had never seen before, the
other was the sly-looking he had seen hanging around the back door in the saloon
Butte. The loafer, a sour-faced man called Singer, talking. They stopped, and he
indicated the buckboard to man with him. "That's him, Abe," Singer was saying: "He's
of that crowd from across the way. He's brother-in-law to
is a good place to start," Abe replied shortly, low voiced. go!"
Kedrick turned on his heel and followed them. As they
into the door, he moved forward and caught it before it
shut. Neither man seemed to be aware of his presence, they were intent on the figure
at the counter.
Sloan," Singer said softly. "Meet Abe Mixus!"
name must have meant something to Sloan, for he turned, face gray. He held a baby's
bottle, which he was in the act of
in his right hand. His eyes, quick and terror stricken, from one to the other. He
was frightened, but puzzled, and
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Louis L'AMOUR
he seemed to be fighting for self-control. "You in this squabble, Singer? I figured
you to be outside of it."
Singer chuckled. "That's what I aim for folks to think."
Mixus, a lean, stooped man with yellow eyeballs and a thin cheeked face drew a paper
from his pocket. "That's a quit claim deed, Sloan," he said. "You can sign it an'
save yourself trouble."
Sloan's face was gray. His eyes went to the deed and seemed to hold there. Then slowly,
they lifted. "I can't do that. My wife's havin' a child in the next couple of days.
I worked too hard on that place to give it up. I reckon I can't sign."
"I say you better." Mixus's voice was cold, level. The storekeeper had vanished,
and the room was empty save for the three, and for Tom Kedrick, standing in the shadows
near some hanging jeans and slickers. "I say you better sign because you don't own
that prop'ty anyhow. Want to call me a liar?"
Sloan's face was gray and yet resolution seemed to have overcome his immediate fear.
He was a brave man, and Kedrick knew that whatever he said now, he would die. Tom
Kedrick spoke. first.
"No, Abe," he said softly. "I'll call you a liar!"
Mixus stiffened as if struck. He was a killer, and dangerous, but he was a smart,
sure-thing killer, and he had believed himself alone but for Singer. Now somebody
was behind him. He stood stock still, then started to turn. Singer had fallen back
against the wall, his eyes staring to locate Kedrick.
"It's Kedrick!" he said. "The boss gunman!"
Mixus scowled. "What's the matter?" he said irritably. "What yuh buttin' in for?"
"There's to be no more killing, Abe." Kedrick held his ground.
"We're havin' a peace conference tomorrow. This killing is over. "Got my orders,"
Mixus persisted. "You talk to Burwick."
There was a movement from Sloan, and Mixus whirled on him. "You stand still!" he
barked.
"You can go, Sloan," Kedrick said. "Get in your outfit an' head back an' tell McLennon
my word is good. You'd better stop thinking about him, Abe. You're in trouble, and
I'm the trouble."
Mixus was confused. He knew Kedrick was ramrodding the gunmen for the company, and
he was puzzled. Had he been
68
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTI'E
65
to do the wrong thing? But no, he had--"You fool!" His
burst into fury. "Keith tol' me to git him!"
"Shut up!" Singer yelled. "Dang it! You--"
Abe Mixus was a cold-blooded killer and no heavyweight men Orders and counterorders
had come to him, and worked up a killing pitch he had been suddenly stopped in the
middle of a
and switched off into this back trail where he floundered
Now Singer seemed to be turning on him, and he toward him, his teeth bared, his face
vicious.
"Don't you tell me, you white-livered coyote!" he snarled.
)ne hand hung over a gun, and Singer, frightened, grabbed for
own gun. Instantly Mixus whipped out his .44 and flame
,ed at Singer. The renegade turned on his heel. His knees
buckled and he slid to the floor, his head against a sack of blood welling from his
mouth.
Mixus stared down at him, and then slowly, he blinked, then
again. Awareness seemed to return to him, and his jittery
calmed. He stared down at Singer almost unbelieving. "Why, I--I--kilt Singer," he
said.
right.'' Kedrick was watching him, knowing now upon a slender thread of irritation
this man's muscles were poised.
will Keith say to that?"
g came over Abe's horse-like face. "Keith? What give the idee he had anythin' to
do with this?" he demanded.
attracted by the shooting and made confident by its
people were gathering in front of the door. The storekeeper come into the room and
stood watching, his face drawn and
Kedrick took a slow step back as Abe's eyes turned toward front of the store. Putting
the hanging slickers between them, moved on cat feet to the opening between the counters
and through into the living quarters and out into the alley behind store.
Crossing the street below the crowd, he wound up in front of St. James, pausing there.
Laredo Shad materialized beside "What happened?" he asked swiftly.
Kedrick explained. "I don't get it," he said. "Keith may be on his own. Burwick was
to hold off until we had our
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Louis L'AMOUR
talk, and I know Keith didn't like that. He spoke right up about it."
"Ain't Singer s'posed to be a settler?" Shad asked. "Won't this serve to get 'em
all riled up? Who knew that Singer was with Keith an' the company?"
"You've a point there," Kedrick said thoughtfully. "This may be the very thing that
will blow the lid o
"Both of them were mighty jumpy. It looked like they had Sloan marked because he
was McLennon's relative. I sprung a surprise on them, an' Mixus just couldn't get
himself located."
The crowd separated, then gathered in knots along the street to discuss the new event.
Shad loitered beside Kedrick, and was standing there when Loren Keith came up. He
glanced sharply at Shad, then at Kedrick. "What's happened over there?"
He kept his eyes on Kedrick as he spoke, and Kedrick shrugged. "Shooting, I guess.
Not unusual for MUstang from what I hear."
"Mixus was in there," Shad commented. "Wonder if he had a hand in it?"
Keith turned and looked at Laredo, suspicion in his eyes. "Who was shot?" he inquired,
his eyes going from one to the other.
"Singer, they tell me," Shad said casually. "I reckon Mixus killed him."
"Mixus? Kill Singer?" Keith shook his head. "That's preposterous!"
"Don't know why," Laredo drawled. "Mixus come heah to fight, didn't he? An' ain't
Singer one o' them settlers?"
Colonel Keith hesitated, his sharp, hard features a picture of doubt and uncertainty.
Watching him, Kedrick was amused and pleased. The storekeeper had not seen him, and
it was doubtful if anyone had but Mixus, the dead man, and the now missing Sloan.
What Abe Mixus would offer as an explanation for shooting Singer, Tom couldn't conceive,
but a traitor had died, and the enemy was confounded. Little as it might mean in
the long run, it was for the moment a good thing. The only fly in the ointment was
the fact that Singer had been a squatter, and that few, if any, knew of his tie-up
with Keith and the company.
Watching the crowds in the street, Tom Kedrick began to perceive a new element shaping
itself. Public opinion was a force
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 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTTE
67
had not reckoned with, and the faces of the men talking the streets were hard and
bitter.
These were mostly poor men who had made their own way or engaged in making their
way, and they resented the action
the company. Few had known Singer well, and those few had use for the man. But to
them, it wasn't important who was ned down. To them, it was a fight between a bunch
of hard men against the company, made up largely of outsiders, to profit from the
work of local people. Furthermore, Singer was, he was not a gunman and he was a local
Abe Mixus was a known killer, a gunman whose gun was hire.
Tom Kedrick nodded toward the street. "Well, Colonel," he "you'd better start thinking
about that unless you want to hemp. That bunch is sore."
Keith stared at them nervously, then nodded and hurried away headquarters. Shad watched
him go and turned toward "You know, we're sort of tied in with the company, an' I
aim to hang for 'em. Let's light a shuck out of here an' stick the hills a few days."
"Can't. I've got to make that meeting with Burwick. But you get out of town, anyway.
Scout around and see what you find of Goff and the others--if they really left the
country or Meet me at Chimney Rock about sundown tomorrow."
Leaving Shad, Kedrick hurried to his room in the St. James bundled his gear together.
He carried it down to the livery
and saddled the palouse. When that was done, staying off main street, he headed for
headquarters. It was Connie Duane wanted to see, and not Burwick or Keith.
There was no sign of any of them. Gunter was not around, and and Keith seemed to
have vanished. Idling in the office, heard a slight movement upstairs. He called
out. Feet hur along the floor above him and then Connie was at the stair "Yes?" Recognizing
him, she hurried down. "Is something
Swiftly he explained, holding nothing back. "Nothing may come
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 68
Louis L'AMOUR
of it. But it wouldn't take much to start something. They all know that the company's
gunmen are mostly out of town. Burwick, Keith and your uncle must have lit out."
"Uncle John hasn't been around all day. I saw him at breakfast, and then he disappeared."
"I'll look around. Do you have a gun?" He shook his head then. "Don't much think
you'll need it. Most of them like you around here, and you've been pretty outspoken.
But stay close to your room. The lid's going to blow off."
Before he could reach the door she called to him and he taced her again. "Tom?" He
saw the pleading in her eyes. "Be careful, Tom."
Their eyes held for a long moment, and then he nodded. "I will--if I can."
He went out and paused on the steps. Burwick and Keith might get out of the way.
But whatever else Gunter might be, he was scarcely the man to leave his niece behind
at a time of danger. Puzzled about Gunter's disappearance, Kedrick paused and looked
around him. The back street was bare and empty. The white powdery dust lay thickly
and had sifted into the foliage of the trees and shrubs.
Kedrick hitched his guns into place and walked slowly around the house. The stable
was usually filled with horses. Now it seemed empty. He strode back, his spurs jingling
a little, and tiny puffs of dust rising from his boots as he walked.
Once, nearly to the stable, he paused by a water trough and listened for noise from
the town. It was quiet, altogether too quiet. He hesitated, worrying about Connie
again, but then went on and into the wide door that gave entrance to the shadowed
coolness of the stable.
The stalls were empty, all save one. He walked back, then paused. The chestnut was
Gunter's horse, and a saddle lay nearby. Could Gunter be somewhere around town? Kedrick
considered that, then dismissed it. He removed his hat and wiped the band with his
kerchief, then replaced it. His face was unusually thoughtful as he examined every
stall.
Nothing.
Puzzled, he stepped out into the bright glare of the sun .and heard no sound anywhere.
He squinted his eyes around, then saw
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 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTI'E
69
ramshackle old building that had done duty for a stable before present large one
was built. He stared at it and then turned in
direction. He had taken scarcely a step when he heard a
of hoofs, and swung swiftly around, half crouched, his hands
Then he straightened. Sue Laine slid from her horse and ran to
"Oh, I've found you, Tom!" she cried, catching him by the
"Tom, don't go to that meeting tomorrow. There's going to trouble!"
"You mean, McLennon's framed something?"
"McLennon?" For an instant she was startled. "Oh, no! Not
Her expression changed. "Come home with me, Tom. Please Let them have this out and
get it over with! Come home with
all this sudden worry about me?" He was sincerely puz"We've only met once, and we
seem to have different ideas things."
"Don't stand here and argue! Tom, I mustn't be seen talking to by either side. Come
with me and get away from here this is all over. I've seen Dornie, and he hates you,
Tom. He you."
'He does, does he?" He patted her arm. "Run along home I've things to do here."
Her eyes hardened a little. "Is it that woman? That girl? I've heard all about her,
how beautiful she is, how-- she--what kind of girl is she?"
a lovely person," he said gravely. "You'd like her, Sue." stiffened. "Would I? I
wonder how much you know about
Tom? Or do you know anything about them? I could like Connie Duane." She shook his
arm. "Come, if you're I just heard this last night, and I can't--I won't see this
','What? What's going to happen?"
She stamped her foot with impatience. "Oh, you fool, you!
plan to kill you, Tom. Now, come on."
"Not now," he said quietly. "I've got to get this fight settled
then maybe I'll ride your way. Now run along, I've got to around."
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Louis L'AMOUr
Impatiently, she turned and walked to her horse. In the saddle
she glanced back at him. "If you change your mind..."
"Not now," he repeated.
"Then be careful. Be careful, Tom."
He watched her go, then happened to glance toward the house. Connie Duane stood in
the window, looking down at him. As he looked up, she turned sharply away. He started
for the house, then hesitated. There was nothing he could say now, nothing that would
pave any effect or do any good at all.
He started toward the front of the house again, then stopped. On an impulse he turned
and walked swiftly back to the little old building and caught the latch. The door
was weathered and gray. It creaked on rusty hinges and opened slowly. Inside there
was the musty odor of decay. Kedrick stood there for a minute watching the sunlight
filter through the cobwebbed window and fall in a faint square upon the ancient straw
that littered the earthen floor. Stepping forward, he peered around the corner of
the nearest stall.
John Gunter lay sprawled upon his face, his head pillowed upon one forearm, the back
of his shirt covered with a dark, wide stain. Kedrick knelt beside him.
Connie's uncle had been stabbed in the back. Three powerful blows, from the look
of the wounds, had been struck downward-- evidently while he sat at a desk or table.
He had been dead for several hours.
74
 NINE
lton Burwick, for all his weight, sat his saddle easily and rode His horse was a
blood bay, tall and long limbed. He walked side Tom Kedrick's palouse. From time
to time he spurred a trot, then eased down. On this morning Burwick wore an
gray felt hat, torn at the fiat crown, and a soiled neckerthat concealed the greasy
shirt collar.
His shirt bulged over his belt, and he wore one gun, too high his hip for easy use.
His whiskers seemed neither to have nor been clipped. They were still a rough stubble
of dirty gray. Yet he seemed unusually genial this morning.
country, Kedrick. Country for a man to live in. If this goes through you should get
yourself a ranch. I aim to."
"Not a bad idea." Kedrick rode with his right hand dangling. "I talking about that
yesterday with Connie Duane." smile vanished from Burwick's face. "You talked to
her ,? What time?"
"Afternoon." Kedrick let his voice become casual, yet he was to the change in Burwick's
voice. Had Burwick murdered Or had it been one of the squatters? With things as they
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 72
Louis L'AMOUR
were either would be difficult or impossible to prove. "We had a long talk. She's
a fine girl."
Burwick said nothing, but his lips tightened. The red canyon walls lifted high above
them. Along here they were nearly five hundred feet above the bottom of Salt Creek.
There was but little left to go, and Tom became puzzled by Burwick's increased watchfulness.
The man might suspect treachery, but he had said nothing to imply anything of the
kind.
Tom's mind reverted to Sue's warning of the previous day-- they intended to kill
him--but who were "they"? She had not been specific in her warning, except to say
that he should not keep this rendezvous today. Kedrick turned the idea over in his
mind, wondering if she were deliberately trying to prevent a settlement, or if she
knew something and was genuinely worried.
Pit Laine, her gun-slinging brother, was one element in the situation he could not
estimate. Laine had not been mentioned in any of the discussions. Although he seemed
always just beyond reach, he was definitely in the background as was the mysterious
rider of the mouse-colored horse. The whole story of the disappearing seemed fantastic,
but Kedrick did not think Sue was inclined to fall for tall stories.
The canyon of Salt Creek widened out and several branch canyons opened into it. They
left the creek bed and' rode closer together to the towering cliffs, now all of seven
hundred feet above the trail. They were heading south, and Burwick, mopping his sweaty
face from time to time with a dirty handkerchief, was no longer talking.
Kedrick pushed back his hat and rolled a smoke. He had never seen Burwick so jittery
before, and he was puzzled. Deliberately, he had said nothing to any of the company
about Gunter, although he had arranged with some of the townspeople to have the body
moved. Tom was afraid it might precipitate the very trouble he was trying to end,
and bring the fight into open battle. Moreover, he was not at all sure of why Gunter
had been killed, or who had done it. That it could be retaliation for Singer's death
was an answer to be considered, but it might have been done by either Keith or Burwick.
Suddenly he drew up. A horse coming in alone from the north
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 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTTE
73
i:west had left recent tracks. Burwick saw them too. "I've seen
those tracks before," Tom Kedrick said. "Now whose horse is
ithat?"
"We better step it up," Burwick said, impatiently. "They'll be there before us."
They pushed on into the bright, still morning. The sky overhead was a vast blue dome
scattered with fleecy puff-balls of clouds, like balls of cotton on the surface of
a lake of pure blue. red cliffs towered high on their left, and the valley on their
swept away in a vast, gently rolling panorama. Glancing off over this sagebrush-dotted
valley, Tom knew that lost in the blue some seven or eight miles away, was Malpais
Arroyo and Sue Laine.
Was she there this morning? Or was she riding somewhere She was strangely attractive,
that slim, dark-haired, dark girl with her lovely skin, soft despite the desert sun
and
wind. She had come to him, riding all that distance to him a warning of danger. Why?
Was it simply that she for him? Was she in love with him? He dismissed that idea
but continued to wonder. She was, despite her beauty, hard, calculating little girl,
hating the country around, and wantonly to be free of it.
Heat waves danced out over the bottom land, and shadows under the red wall. A dust
devil lifted and danced weirdly the desert, then lost itself among the thick antelope
brush
the catclaw. Tom Kedrick mopped his brow and swung his farther east. The tall spire
of Chimney Rock lifted in the its heavier shouldered companion looming beside and
it.
"Look!" Burwick's voice held a note of triumph. "There they
To the south, and still three or four miles off, they could see
riders heading toward Chimney Rock. At this distance they
not be distinguished, but their destination was obvious. "Now that's fine." Burwick
beamed. "They'll be here right on
Say--" he glanced at his heavy gold watch---"tell you what.
be there a shade before them, so what say you wait for them while I have me a look
at a ledge up in the canyon?"
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 74
Louis L'AMOUR
Minutes later, Kedrick swung down in the shadow of the rock. There was a small pool
of water there. He let the palouse drink and ground-hitched him deeper in the shade,
near some grass. Then he walked back and dropping to the ground lit a smoke. He could
see the two riders nearing now. One was on a fast-stepping chestnut, the other a
dappled gray.
They rode up and swung down. The first man was Pete Slagle, the second a stranger
whom Kedrick had not seen before. "Where's McLennon?" he asked.
"He'll be along. He hadn't come in from the ranch, so I came on with Steelman here.
He's a good man, an' anything he says goes with all of us. Bob'll be along later,
though, if you have to have his word."
"Burwick came. He's over lookin' at a ledge he saw in the canyon over there."
The three men bunched and Steelman studied Kedrick. "Dai Reid tells me you're a good
man, trustworthy, he says."
"I aim to be." He drew a last drag on his cigarette and lifted his head to snap it
out into the sand.
For an instant, he stood poised, his face blank, then realization hit him. "Look
out!" he yelled. "Hit the dirt!"
His voice was drowned in a roar of guns and something smashed him in the body even
as he fell. Then something else slugged him atop the head and a vast wave of blackness
folded over him, pushing him down, down, down, deeper and deeper into a swirling
darkness that closed in tightly around his body, around his throat. And then there
was nothing, nothing at all.
Alton Burwick smiled and threw down his cigar. Cahnly, he swung into the saddle and
rode toward the four men who were riding from behind a low parapet of rocks near
the Chimney. As he rode up they were standing, rifles in hand, staring toward the
cluster of bloody figures sprawled on the ground in the shade. "Got 'em!" Shaw said.
His eyes were hard. "That cleans it up, an' good!"
Fessenden, Clauson and Poinsett stared at the bodies, saying nothing. Lee Goff walked
toward them from his vantage point
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 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTrE
75
re he had awaited anyone who might have had a chance to
He stooped over the three.
Slagle was literally riddled with bullets, his body smashed and
,. Off to one side lay Steelman, half the top of his head
off. Captain Kedrick lay sprawled deeper in the shadow, head bloody, and a dark stain
on his body. "Want I should finish 'em off for sure?" Poinsett asked. "Finish what
off?." Clauson sneered. "Look at 'em--shot to doll
"What about Kedrick?" Fessenden asked. "He dead for sure?" "Deader'n Columbus," Goff
said.
"Hey!" Shaw interrupted. "This ain't McLennon! This here's
Steelman!"
They gathered around. "Sure is!" Burwick swore viciously. "Now
re in trouble. If we don't get McLennon, we're--" His voice
away as he looked up at Dornie Shaw. The soft brown eyes bright and boyish.
"Why, boss," he said softly, dropping his cigarette and rubbing
out with his toe, "I reckon that's where I come in. Leave
to me. I'll hunt him down before sun sets tomorrow." i "Want company?" Poinsett asked.
"Don't need it," Shaw said, "but come along. I hear this Bob
Used to be a frontier marshal. I never liked marshals
They drifted to their horses, then moved slowly away. Dornie Poinsett and Goff toward
the west and Bob McLennon. Burwick, his eyes thoughtful, headed toward the east and
With him rode the others. Only Fessenden turned nerand looked back. "We should have
made sure they were
"Ride back if you want," Clauson said. "They are dead all right.
Kedrick! I had no use for him. I aimed my shot right for his
skull."
(Afternoon drew on. The sun lowered, and after the sun came
Somewhere a coyote lifted his howl of anguish to the white moon and the desert lay
still and quiet beneath the
T.
In the deeper shadow of the towering Chimney and its bulkier
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 76
Louis L'AMOUa
neighbor there was no movement. A coyote, moving nearer, scented the blood, but with
it there was the dreaded man smell. He whined anxiously and drew back, then trotted
slowly off, turning only once to look back. The palouse, still ground-hitched, walked
along the grass toward the pool, then stopped, nostrils wide at the smell of blood.
Well down behind some rocks and brush, the shooting had only made it lift its head,
then return to cropping the thick green grass that grew in the tiny sub-irrigated
area around the Chimney. Nothing more moved. The coolness of the night stiffened
the dried blood and stiffened the bodies of the men who lay sprawled there.
Ten miles north Laredo Shad, late for his meeting with Kedrick, limped along the
trail leading a badly lamed horse. Two hours before, the trail along an arroyo bank
had given way and the horse had fallen. The animal's leg was not broken, but was
badly injured. Shad swore bitterly and walked on, debating as he had for the past
two hours on the advisability of camping for the night. But remembering that Kedrick
would be expecting him, he pushed on.
An hour later, still plodding and on blistered feet, he heard horse's hoofs and drew
up, slipping his rifle into his hands. Then the rider materialized from the night,
and he drew up also. For a long minute no word was said, then Shad spoke. "Name yourself,
pardner."
The other rider also held a gun. "Bob McLennon," he said. "Who are you?"
"Laredo Shad. My horse lamed hisself. I'm headed for Chimney Rock. S'pose to meet
Kedrick there." He stared at the rider. "Thought you was to be at the meetin'? What
happened?"
"I didn't make it. Steelman an' Slagle went. I'm ridin' up here because they never
come in."
"What?" Shad's exclamation was sharp. "McLennon, I was right afeared o' that. My
bet is there's been dirty work. Nevah trusted that there Burwick, not no way."
McLennon studied the Texan, liking the man, but hesitant. "What's your brand read,
Laredo? You a company man?" Shad shook his head. "Well, now, it's like this. I come
in here
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77
warrior pay to do some gun slingin', but I'm a right pity sort of a gent about some
things. This here didn't size up
to me, nor to Kedrick, so we been figurin' on gettin' shut of
company. Kedrick only stayed on hopin' he could make peace. I stayed along with him."
"Get up behind me," McLennon said. "My horse will carry
an' it ain't far.'"
81
 TEN
H
'is eyes were open a long time before realization came, and he ,was lying in a clean,
orderly place with which he was totally unfamiliar. For a long time he lay there
searching his memory for clues to tie all this together. He, himself. He was Captain
Tom Kedrick . .. he had gone west from New Orleans . . . he had taken on a job .
. . then he remembered.
There had been a meeting at Chimney Rock and Steelman had come in place of McLennon.
He had thrown his cigarette away and had seen those men behind the rocks, seen the
sunlight flashing on their rifle barrels. He had yelled and then dropped, but not
fast enough. He had been hit in the head, and he had been hit in the body at least
once.
How long ago was that? He turned his head and found himself in a square stone room.
One side of the room was native rock, and so was part of another side. The rest had
been built up from loose stones gathered and shaped to fit. Besides the wide bed
on which he lay there was a table and a chair. He turned slightly and the bed creaked.
The door opened, and he looked up into the eyes of Connie Duane.
78
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 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BU'FI'E
79
"Connie?" He was surprised. "Where am I? What's happened?" "You've been unconscious
for days," she told him, coming to
bedside. "You have had a bad concussion and you lost a lot of
before Laredo and Bob McLennon found you."
"What about the others?"
"Both of them were dead. By all rights, you should have been." "But where are we?"
"It's a cliff dwelling, a lonely one, and very ancient. It is high
in the side of the mountain called Thieving Rock. McLennon where it was, and he knew
that if word got out that you alive they would be out to complete the job at once.
So
and Shad brought you here."
"Are they still here?"
;had is. He hunts and goes to Yellow Butte for supplies, but , has to be very careful
because it begins to look like they are
to get suspicious."
"McLennon?"
"He's dead, Tom. Dornie Shaw killed him. He went to Mus to find a doctor for you.
He encountered Dornie on the
Bob was very fast, you know, but Dornie is incredible. He Bob before he could get
a shot off."
did you get here?"
"Bob McLennon and Shad had talked about it, and they knew I
against the company, and also that Uncle John had been
they came to me. I came out here right away. I knew a about nursing, but not much.
Laredo has been wonderful, He's a true friend."
. Kedrick nodded. "Who did the shooting? I thought I saw
"He was one of them. I heard them talking about it but was not
until later. Poinsett was there, Goff, Fessenden, Clauson Shaw."
"Anything else happen?"
"Too much. They burned Yellow Butte's saloon and livery sta and they have driven
almost half the people off. Their sur are on the land now, checking the survey they
made
A handful of the squatters have drawn back into the
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 80
Louis L'AMOUR
mountains somewhere under Pit Laine and that friend of yours,
Dai Reid. They are trying to make a stand there."
"What about Sue?"
She looked at him quickly. "You liked her, didn't you? Well, Sue has taken up with
Keith. They are together all the time. He's a big man, now. They've brought in some
more gunmen, and the Mixus boys are still here. Right now Alton Burwick and Loren
Keith have this country right under their thumbs. In fact, they
even called an election."
"An election?"
"Yes, and they counted the ballots themselves. Keith was elected mayor, and Fessenden
is sheriff. Burwick stayed out of it, of course, and Dornie Shaw wouldn't take the
sheriff's job."
"Looks like they've got everything their own way, doesn't it?" he mused. "So they
don't know I'm alive?"
"No. Shad went back there and dug three graves. He buried the other two, and then
filled in the third grave and put a marker over it with your name on it."
"Good!" Kedrick was satisfied. He looked up at the girl. "And how do you get out
here and back without them becoming curious?"
She flushed slightly. "I haven't been back, Tom. I stayed here with you. There was
no chance of going back and forth. I just left everything and came away."
"How long before I can be up?"
"Not long, if you rest. And you've talked enough now." Kedrick turned over the whole
situation in his mind. There could be no more than a few days before the sale of
the land would come off, and if there was one thing that mattered it was that the
company not be permitted to profit from their crookedness. As he lay there resting,
a plan began to form in his mind, and the details supplied themselves one by one.
His guns hung on a nail driven into the wall close to his hand. His duffle, which
he had brought away from the St. James, lay in the corner. It was almost dark before
he completed his planning, and when Laredo came in he was ready for him.
"Cimarron?" Shad nodded a little later. "Bloomfield would be nearer. How's that?"
"Good." Kedrick agreed. "Make it fast."
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81
"That ain't worryin' me," Laredo said, rolling his tobacco in his jaws. "They've
been mighty suspicious lately. Suppose they trail this place down while I'm gone?"
"We'll have to chance that. Here's the message. Hurry it up!" The sun was bright
in the room when Connie came through the
with his breakfast. She turned and her face went white. ."Oh, you're up!"
'il He grinned shakily. "That's right. I've laid abed long enough.
long has it been?"
"Almost two weeks," she told him. "But you mustn't stand up.
down and rest."
There was a place by a window where he had a good view of
trail below. At his request Connie brought the Winchester her own rifle to him. He
cleaned them both, oiled them
and placed them beside his window. Then he checked guns and returned them to their
holsters, digging the two
Navy pistols from his duffle and checking them also.
i He realized that it was too late to do anything now, but it was a
ter he had not thought of Ransome before. No more able islator existed in Washington
than Frederic Ransome, and the
had been brother officers in the War Between the States,
well as friends in France during the Franco-Prussian War Ransome had been there as
an observer. If anybody could the sale to the company, he could, even on such short
His telegram would be followed by a letter supplying all the and with that to go
on, Ransome might get something He was a popular and able young senator with good
con and an affable manner. Moreover, he was an excellent ist. It would make all the
difference in this situation. The cliff dwelling was built well back from the face
of the cliff, built evidently with an eye toward concealment as well as
They had called this, Connie told him, Thieving Rock, before the white man appeared,
and the Indians who lived had been notorious thieves. There was a spring, so water
not a worry, and there were supplies enough for immediate
)oses.
Two days dragged slowly by, and on the morning of the third
,
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Louis L'AMOUn
Kedrick was resuming his station by the window when he saw a rider coming into the
narrow canyon below.
The man was moving slowly and studying the ground as he came. From time to time he
paused and searched the area with careful eyes. Kedrick pushed himself up from his
chair. Taking the Winchester, he worked his way along the wall to the next room.
"Connie?" he called softly. There was no reply. After a minute, he called a second
time. Still there came no answer.
Worried now, he remembered she had said something about going down below to gather
some squaw cabbage to add greens to their diet.
Back at the window, he studied the terrain carefully, and then his heart gave a leap.
Connie Duane was gathering squaw cabbage from a niche in the canyon wall, not fifty
yards from the unknown rider.
Lifting his rifle, Kedrick checked the range. It was all of four hundred yards and
a downhill shot. Carefully, he sighted on the rider, then lowered the gun. The stranger
was nearer the girl now, and a miss might ricochet and hit her. The canyon wall would
throw any bullet he fired back into the canyon itself and it might even ricochet
several times in the close confines.
Yet somehow, she had to be warned. If the rider saw her tracks he would find both
Connie and the hideout. Suddenly, the ears of the horse came up sharply, and the
rider stiffened warily and looked all around. Carefully, Kedrick drew a bead on the
man again. He hated to kill an unwarned man, but if necessary he would not hesitate.
Connie was standing straight now and appeared to be listening. Tense in every fiber,
Tom Kedrick watched and waited. The two were now within fifty feet of each other,
although each was concealed by a corner of rock and some desert growth including
a tall cottonwood and some cedars.
Still listening, they both stood rigid. Kedrick touched his lips with the tip of
his tongue. His eyes blurred from strain, and he brushed his hand across them.
The rider was swinging to the ground now, and he had drawn a gun. Warily, he stepped
away from his ground-hitched horse.
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83
Shifting his eyes to Connie, Tom saw the girl wave. Lifting his he waved back. Then
he lifted the rifle. She shook a vigori:ous negation with her arm, and he relaxed,
waiting.
Now the man was studying tracks in the sandy bottom of the and as he knelt, his eyes
riveted upon the ground, a new entered the picture. A flicker of movement caught
the of Kedrick's eye. Turning his head, he saw Laredo Shad ridinto the scene. Glancing
swiftly at the window, Laredo waved hand. Then he moved forward and swung to the
ground.
From his vantage point Kedrick could hear nothing, but he saw approach, making heavy
going of it in the thick sand. Not dozen yards from the man, he stopped.
He must have spoken, for the strange rider stiffened as if shot. he stood erect.
As he turned, Tom saw his face full in the It was Clauson!
'What happened then was too fast for the eye to follow. Somemust have spoken--who,
did not matter. Laredo Shad in a
s crouch, flashed his right hand gun. It sprang clear, for a long instant, and then
just as Clauson pulled the trigShad fired but a split second sooner.
staggered a step back, and Shad fired again. The outwent down slowly, and Laredo
walked forward and stripped gun belts from him. Then from his horse he took his saddle
rifle and amnaunition. Gathering up the dead man and workwith Connie's help, together
they tied him to the saddle, and turned the horse loose with a slap on the hip.
Duane's face was white when she came into the room. saw that?" nodded. "We didn't
dare to let him go. If we had we would have been dead before noon tomorrow. Now,"
he said with satisfaction, "they'll have something to think about."
grinned at him when he came in. "I didn't see that gun he drawed," he said ruefully.
"Had it laying along his leg as he crouched there. Might've got me."
iI'Ie dropped the saddlebags. "Mite of grub," he said, "an' some I reckon we can
use 'em even though I brought some. The got off, an' so did the letter. Feller over
to the telegraph
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Louis L'AMOUR
office was askin' a powerful lot of questions. Seems like they've been hearin' about
this scrap."
"Good. The more the better. We can stand it, but the company can't. Hear anything?"
"Uh huh. Somebody from outside the state is startin' a row about Gunter's death.
I hear they have you marked for that. That is, the company is sayin' you did it."
Kedrick nodded. "They would try that. Well, in a couple of days I'll be out of here
and then we'll see what can be done."
"You take some time," Shad said dubiously. "That passel o' thieves ain't goin' to
find us. Although," he said suddenly, "I saw
the tracks of that grulla day afore yestiddy, an' not far off."
The grulla again!
Two more days drifted by. With Laredo, Tom Kedrick ventured down the trail and the
ladders to the canyon below. They visited their horses concealed in a tiny glade
not far away. The palouse nickered and trotted toward him, and Kedrick grinned and
scratched his chest. "How's it, boy? Ready to go places?"
"He's achin' for it," Shad said. He lighted a smoke and squinted his eyes at Kedrick.
"What you aim to do when you do move?"
"Ride around a little. I aim to see Pit Laine, an' then I'm goin' to start huntin'
up every mother's son that was in that dry-gulching. Especially," he added, "Dornie
Shaw."
"He's bad," Laredo said quietly. "I nevah seen it, but you ask Connie. Shaw's chain
lightnin'. She seen him kill Bob."
"So one of us dies," Kedrick said quietly. "I'd go willing enough to take him with
me, an' a few others."
"That's it. He's a killer, but the old bull o' that woods is Alton Burwick, believe
me, he is. Keith is just right-hand man for him, an' the fall guy if they need one.
Burwick's the pizen mean one."
With Connie they made their start three days later, and rode back trails beyond the
Rim to the hideout Laine had established. It was Dai Reid himself who stopped them,
and his eyes lighted up when he saw Kedrick.
"Ah, Tom!" His broad face beamed. "Like my own son, you are. We'd heard you were
kilt dead."
Pit Laine was standing by the fire, and around him on the ground were a dozen men,
most of whom Kedrick recognized.
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85
sat up slowly as the three walked into the open space, and turned. It was the first
time Kedrick had seen him, and he surprised.
He was scarcely taller than his sister, but wide in the shoulders slim in the hips.
When he turned, he faced them squarely, his eyes were sharp and bitter. This was
a killing man, Kedrick as dangerous in his own way as that pocket-sized devil, Shaw.
"I'm Kedrick," he said, "and this is Connie Duane. I believe you Shad." know all
of you," Laine said, watching them, his eyes alert curious.
Quietly and concisely, Kedrick explained his plan. He ended "So there it is. I've
asked this friend of mine to start an into the whole mess and to block the sale until
the is clear. Once the sale is halted and that investigation started, won't be with
us long. They could get away with this only if r could keep it covered up, and they
had a fair chance of doing
:'So we wait and let them run off?." Laine demanded.
Tom Kedrick shook his head decidedly. "We ride into
of US.
have the mayor and the sheriff, but public opinion is
on our side. Furthermore," he said quietly, "we ride in minute they get the news
the sale is blocked. Once that news
town they will have no friends. The band-wagon riders get off, and last," i'"I'here'll
be shootin'," one old-timer opined.
"Some," Kedrick admitted, "but if I have my way there'll be
of hanging. There's killers in that town, the bunch that
Steelman and Slagle. The man who killed Bob is the man I want."
Laine turned. "I want him."
i"Sorry, Laine. He killed Bob, an' Bob was only in town to get a
for me. You may," he added, "get your chance, anyway." "I'd like a shot at him my
own self," Laredo said quietly, "but
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Louis L'AMOUR
somethin' else bothers me. Who's this grulla rider? Is he one of you?"
Laine shook his head. "No, he's got us wonderin', too."
"Gets aroun' plenty," the old-timer said, "but nobody ever sees him. I reckon he
knows this here country better'n any of us. He must've been aroun' here for a long
time."
"What's he want?" Shad wondered. "That don't figure."
Kedriek shrugged. "I'd like to know." He turned to Dai. "It's good to see you. I
was afraid you'd had trouble."
"Trouble?" Dai smiled his wide smile. "It's trouble, you say? All my life there's
been trouble, and where man is there will be trouble to the end of time, if not of
one kind, then another. But I take my trouble as it comes, bye."
He drew deeply on his short-stemmed pipe and glanced at the sear against Kedriek's
skull. "Looks like you'd a bit of it yourself. If you'd a less hard skull you'd now
be dead."
"I'd not have given a plugged peso for him when I saw him," Laredo said dryly. "The
three of them lyin' there, bloody an' shot up. We thought for sure they was all dead.
This one, he'd a hole through him, low down an' mean, an' that head of his looked
like it had been smashed until we moved him. He was lucky as well as thick skulled."
Morning found Laredo and Kedrick once more in the saddle. Connie Duane had stayed
behind with some of the squatters' women. Pushing on toward Mustang, Laredo and Kedrick
took their time. They had no desire to be seen or approached by any of the company
riders.
"There's nothing much we can do," Kedrick agreed, "but I want to know the lay of
the land in town. It's mighty important to be able to figure just what will happen
when the news hits the place. Right now, everything is right for them. Alton Burwick
and Loren Keith are better off than they ever were.
"Just size it up. They came in here with the land partly held by squatters with a
good claim on the land. They managed to get that land surveyed and put in their claim
to the best of it, posted the notices and waited them out. If somebody hadn't seen
one of
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 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTTE
87
notices and read it, the whole sale might have gone through
nobody the wiser. Somebody did see it, and trouble started. had two mighty able men
to contend with, Slagle and cLennon.
"Well, both of them are dead now. And Steelman, another leader is dead, too. So far
as they are aware, nobody much about the deaths of those men or who caused them.
the one man they had learned they couldn't depend on, and think I'm dead. John Gunter
brought money into the deal, he's dead and out of the picture completely.
"A few days more and the sale goes through, the land becomes and there isn't any
organized opposition now. Pit Laine and group will be named as outlaws, and hunted
as such, and
me, once the land sale goes through, Keith will be huntthem with a posse of killers."
"Yeah," Laredo drawled, "they sure got it sewed up, looks like. you're forgettin'
one thing. You're forgettin' the girl. Connie
'What about her?"
Shad said, speaking around his cigarette, "she sloped of town right after McLennon
was killed. They thought she been talking to you before, and she told 'em off in
the office, she was gettin' her money out of it. All right, so suppose she
for it, and they can't pay? Suppose," he added, "she begins italk and tells what
she knows, and they must figure it's plenty.
was Gunter's niece, and for all they know he told her more he did tell her."
mean they'll try to get hold of her?"
do you think? They'll try to get hold of her, or kill her."
Kedrick's eyes narrowed. "She'll be safe with Laine," he but an element of doubt
was in his voice. "That's a good
Shad shrugged. "Maybe. Don't forget that Singer was one of
but he didn't hesitate to try to kill Sloan, or to point him for Abe Mixus. He was
bought off by the company, so maybe
are others."
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 88
LouIs L'AMouI
At that very moment, in the office of the gray stone building, such a man sat opposite
Alton Burwiek, while Keith sat in a chair against the wall. The man's name was Hirst.
His face was sallow, but determined. "I ain't lyin'!" he said flatly. "I rode all
night to git here, slippin' out o' camp on the quiet. She rode in with that gunman,
Laredo Shad, and this Kedriek hombre."
"Kedrick! Alive?" Keith sat forward, his face tense.
"Alive as you or me! Had him most of the hair clipped on one side of his head, an'
a bad scar there. He sort of favored his side, too. Oh, he'd been shot all right.
But he's ridin' now, believe me!"
The renegade had saved the worst until last. He smiled grimly at Burwick. "I can
use some money, Mr. Burwick," he said, "an' there's more I could tell you."
Burwick stared at him, his eyes glassy hard, then reached into a drawer and threw
two gold eagles on the desk. "All right! What can you tell me?"
"Kedrick sent a message to some hombre in Washington name of Ransome. He's to block
the sale of the land until there's a
complete investigation."
"What?"
Keith came to his feet, his face ashen. This was beyond his calculations. When the
idea of the land grab had first been brought to his attention, it had seemed a very
simple, easy way to turn a fast profit. He had excellent connections in Washington
through his military career, and with Burwick managing things on the other end and
Gunter bringing on the money, it seemed impossible to beat it. He was sure to net
a handsome profit, clear his business with Gunter and Burwick, then return East and
live quietly on the profits. That it was a crooked deal did not disturb
him. But that his friends in the East might learn of it... "Ransome!". His voice
was shocked. "Of all people!"
Frederic Ransome had served with him in the war, and their mutual relationship had
been something less than friendly. There had been that episode by the bridge. He
flushed at the thought of it, but Ransome knew, and Ransome would use it as a basis
for judgment. Kedrick had no way of knowing just how fortunate his choice of Ransome
had been.
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89
"That does it!" He got to his feet. "Ransome will bust this wide
and love it."
He was frightened, and Burwick could see it. He sat there, his body filling the chair,
wearing the same soiled shirt. His followed Keith with irritation and contempt, Was
Keith going on him now?
"Get back there," Burwick said to Hirst, "and keep me inof the movements. Watch everything
closely now, and miss a trick. You will be paid."
When Hirst had gone, Burwick turned to Keith and his fat lips into a smile. "So does
it matter if they slow it up a little? them have their investigation. It will come
too late."
"Too late?" Keith was incredulous. "With such witnesses against as Kedrick, Shad,
Connie and the rest of them?" "When the time comes," Burwick said quietly, "there
will be witnesses. Believe me, there won't be."
93
 ELEVEN
K
eith turned on Burwick, puzzled by the sound of his voice. "What do you mean?" he
asked.
Burwick chuckled and rolled his fat lips on his cigar. There was malice and some
contempt in the look he gave Keith. How much better, he thought, if Kedrick had not
been so namby-pamby. He was twice the man Keith was, for all the latter's commanding
presence.
"Why," he said, "if there's no witnesses, there'll be no case. What can these people
in town tell them? What they suspect? Suspicions won't stand in a court of law, nor
with that committee. By the time they get here this country will be peaceful and
quiet, believe me."
"What do you mean to do?" Keith demanded.
"Do? What is there to do? Get rid of Kedrick, Laredo Shad, and that girl. Then you'll
take a posse and clean out that rat's nest back of the Rim. Then who will they talk
to? Gunter might have weakened, but he's dead. With the rest of them out if it--"
"Not Connie!" Keith protested. "Not her! For heaven's sake, man!"
O0
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91
Burwick snorted and his lips twisted in an angry sneer as he
heaved his bulk from the chair. "Yes, Connie!" he said. "Are you complete fool, Keith?
Or have you gone soft? That girl knows imore than all of them. Suppose Gunter talked
to her, and he
likely did? She'll know everything--everything, I tell you!" He paced back across
the room, measuring Keith. The fool! He was irritated and angry. The sort of men
they made these days, a weak and sniveling crowd. Keith had played out his time.
If he iflnished this job alive--Dornie didn't like Keith. Burwick chuck suddenly.
Dornie! Now there was a man! The way he had that Bob McLennon!
"Now get this. Get the boys together. Get Fessenden, Goff, Poinsett and the Mixus
boys and send them out with
I want those three killed, you hear me? I want them before the week is out--and no
bodies, understand?"
Keith touched his dry lips, his eyes haunted. He had bargained nothing like this.
It had all seemed such an easy profit, and a few poverty-stricken squatters to prevent
them from ac wealth in a matter of a few months. And everything had off just as Burwick
had suggested, everything had gone so Gunter had provided the money, and he had fronted
for in Washington.
.Uneasily, now, Keith realized that if trouble was to come it be he, himself, upon
whom the blame would rest. Burwick, had remained in the background in the transactions
East as much as he, Keith, had been kept in the background Yet it would be Keith's
guilt if anything went wrong. And Ransome investigating everything was sure to go
wrong.
Of course, he sighed deeply, Burwick was right. There was one thing to do now. At
least Dornie and the others would hesitate. Suddenly, he remembered something.
"You mentioned Clauson. He's out of it, Burwick. Clauson came last night, tied to
his horse. He had been dead for hours." "What?" Burwick stopped his pacing and walked
up to Keith. just remembered?" He held his face inches away from Keith's
glared. "Is anybody backtracking that horse? You blithering Clauson was dynamite
with a gun. If he's dead, shot, it had be by one of three men, and you know it!"
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Louis L'AMOUR
Burwick's face was dark with passion and he wheeled and walked the length of the
room, swearing in a low, violent voice that shocked Keith with its deep, underlying
passion. When he turned again, Burwick's eyes were ugly with fury. "Can't you realize,"
he demanded hoarsely, "those men are dangerous?
"Every second they are alive means we are in danger! You have seen Dornie in action.
Well, believe me, I'd sooner have him after me than Kedrick. I know Kedrick. He's
a former Army officer--that's what you're thinking all the time---an officer and
a gentleman!
"But he's something more, do you hear? He's more. He's a gentleman--that's true enough.
But the man's a fighter, he loves to fight! Under all that calmness and restraint
there's a drive and power that Dornie Shaw could never equal. Dornie may be faster,
and I think he is, but don't you forget for one instant that Kedrick won't be through
until he's down, down and dead!"
Loren Keith was shocked. In his year's association with Burwick he had never seen
the man in a passion, and had never heard him speak with such obvious respect, and
evenmyes, even fear, of any man. What had Alton Burwick seen that he himself had
not seen?
He stared at Burwick, puzzled and annoyed, but some of the man's feeling began to
transmit itself to him, and he became distinctly uneasy. He bit his lips and watched
Burwick pacing angrily.
"It's not only him, but it's Shad. That cool, thin-faced Texan. As for Laine--" Burwick's
eyes darkened--"he may be the worst of the lot. He thinks he has a personal stake
in this."
"Personal?" Keith looked inquiringly at the older man. "What do you mean?"
Burwick dismissed the question with a gesture. "No matter. They must go, all of them,
and right now." He turned and his eyes were cold. "Keith, you fronted for us in Washington.
If this thing goes wrong, you're the one who will pay. Now go out there and get busy.
You've a little time, and you've the men. Get busy!"
When he had gone, Burwick dropped into his chair and stared blindly before him. Things
had gone too far for him to draw back now even if he was so inclined, and he was
not. The pity of it was
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 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTI'E
93
there had been no better men to be had than Keith and ter.
Yet, everything could still go all right, for he would know how meet any investigating
committee, how to soft pedal the trouturn it off into a mere cow-country quarrel
of no moment and exaggerated. The absence of any complaining witness would the investigators
helpless to proceed, and he could make
difficulty seem a mere teapot tempest. Keith was obviously of Ransome. Well, he was
not.
Burwick was still sitting there when the little cavalcade of streamed by, riding
out of town on their blood trail. number had been augmented, he noticed, by four
new arrivall hard, desperate men. Even without Keith, they might do job. He heaved
himself to his feet and paced across the room, out the window. It went badly with
him to see Connie die, for he had plans for Connie. Maybe ... His eyes
Out on the desert the wind stirred restlessly, and in the brassy above a lone buzzard
circled as if aware of the creeping tenthat was slowly gripping the country beneath
it.
Far to the north, toward Durango, a cattle buyer pulled his to a halt and studied
the sky. There was no hint of storm, he had felt uneasy ever since leaving town on
his buying trip to Yellow Butte and Mustang. There had been rumors of down that way.
But then, there had been intermittent there for some time, and he was not alarmed.
Yet he was uneasy, as though the very air carried a warning.
South of him, and below the Rim, Laredo Shad and Kedrick aside from the Mustang trail
and headed toward Yellow It was only a little way out of their line of travel, but
both wanted to see what had happened there. Yet when they the town, aside from the
blackened ruins of the debuildings, everything seemed peaceful and still. Eight or
families had moved back into the town and a few had never They looked up warily as
the two riders drew near, then a greeting.
knew now that these two were siding with them against company, but hardship and struggle
had wearied them. They
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Lotis L'AMotr
watched the two enter the settlement without excitement. The saloon had opened its
door in the large, roomy office of the livery stable, and Kedrick and Laredo entered
it. A couple of men leaned on the bar, and both turned as they entered, greeted them,
and returned to their conversation.
It was growing cool outside and the warmth of the room felt good. Both men stepped
to the bar, and Kedrick ordered and paid. Toying with his drink, Shad seemed uneasy.
Finally he turned to Tom. "I don't like it," he said, low voiced. "Somehow or other
Burwick is goin' to know about Ransome, an' he'll be in a sweat to get Connie out
of the way, an' you an' me with her."
Kedrick agreed, for his own mind had been reading signs along the same trail. Now
the only way out for the company was to face the committee, if Ransome managed one,
with a plausible tale and an accomplished fact, and then let the investigating body
make the most of it.
"Burwick's a snake," Shad commented. "He'll never quit wigglin' until the sun goes
down for the last time. Not that one. He's in this deep, an' he ain't the man to
lose without a fight."
Horses' hoofs sounded on the road outside and when they turned, Pit Laine and Dai
Reid were dismounting before the door. They walked in, and Laine looked at Kedrick,
then moved on to the bar. Dai appeared worried, but said nothing. After a minute,
Laine turned suddenly and went outside. "What's the matter?" Kedrick asked.
"It be worry, bye, and some of it shame, an' all for that sister o' his. Who would
think it o' her? To go over to the other side? He's that shy about it, you would
scarce believe. When a man looks at him, he thinks it's his sister they are thinkin'
on, and how she sold out to that traitor to mankind, that rascal, Keith."
Kedrick shrugged. "Ambition and money do strange things. She has the makings of a
woman, too."
Laine opened the door. "Better come out," he said, "we've got trouble."
They crowded outside. Men were hurrying toward the houses, their faces grave. "What
is it?" Kedrick asked quickly.
"Burt Williams signaled from the top 9f the butte. There's riders coming from Mustang,
a bunch of them."
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 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTIE
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As they looked, the small dark figure of a man appeared on the of the mesa once more.
This time they saw his arm wave: . . two.., three times, and continue until he had
waved it times. When he had completed, he gestured to the southeast. he signaled
four more times from the southwest.
"Ten riders," Laine spat. "Well, we've got more than that here, they aren't as salty
as that crowd."
Burt Williams, favoring his broken arm, knelt behind a clump brush on top of Yellow
Butte and studied the approaching through the glass. He knew all in this group by
sight not by favor. One by one he named them off to himself, Dornie Shaw, Fessenden
an' Goff---Poinsett." He scowled.
that ain't Poinsett. That's one o' the Mixus boys. Yep, an' the other."
He swung his glass. The four riders spaced well apart, were at a steady pace. None
of their faces was familiar. He at them awhile, but finally placed only one of them,
a bad
from Durango who ran with Port Stockton and the Ketchum His name was Brokow.
Stirred, he searched the country all around the town for other t, then turned back
to the larger cavalcade of riders. he held on a certain high fiat a minute longer
he would have two unmounted men cross it at a stooping run and drop into wide arroyo
northeast of town.
it was, he had been studying the approaching group for minutes before he realized
that Poinsett was not among He was with neither group.
Williams squinted his eyes against the sun, wonderhow he could apprise them of the
danger down below, for the of Poinsett disturbed him. The man was without doubt one
the most vicious of the company killers. He was a bitter man, malignant by some dark
happening in his past, but filled with a special sort of venom all his own. Williams
would worried even more had he seen Poinsett at that moment.
The attack had been planned carefull, and with all of Keith's
He surmised who they would be looking for, and hoped
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Louis L'AMoua
their watcher would overlook the absence of Poinsett. It was Poinsett whom Keith
wanted in the right position for he was unquestionably the best of the lot with a
rifle.
At that moment, not two hundred yards from town, Poinsett and his companion, Alf
Starrett, were hunkered down in a cluster of brush and boulders at one side of the
arroyo. Poinsett had his Spencer .56 and was settling into position for his first
shot. Starrett, with a fifteen-shot Henry .44 was a half dozen yards away.
Poinsett pulled out a huge silver watch and consulted it. "At half after two, he
says. All right, that's when he'll get it." With utmost composure he began to roll
a smoke, and Alf Starrett, a hard-faced and wizened little man, noticed that his
fingers were steady as he sifted tobacco into the paper.
Bob McLennon had planned the defense of Yellow Butte, if such a defense became necessary.
Bob had been something of a hand with a gun, but he definitely had not been a soldier
nor even an Indian fighter. Moreover, he had not expected an all out battle for the
town. Whatever the reason, he had committed a fatal error. That pile of boulders
and brush offered perfect concealment and almost perfect cover while affording complete
range of the town, its one street, and the back as well as front of most of the buildings.
Keith had been quick to see the vantage point on his earlier visits to the town.
He had carefully planned to have Poinsett and Starrett approach the place some time
before the main force moved in. So far, no hitch in the plan had developed.
Poinsett finished his cigarette and took up his rifle, then settled down to a careful
watching and checking of the time. He had his orders and they were explicit. He was
to fire on the first target offered after half past two. His first shot must kill.
Shad and Kedrick had returned to the saloon while Pit Laine loitered out front. Dai
had gone across the street. Although Laine was out of Poinsett's sight, Dai made
a perfect target. The Welshman, however, offered only a fleeting target and Poinsett
did not get a chance to fire. In the next instant, however, the opportunity came.
The door of one of the nearest shacks opened and a man came out. He wore a broad-brimmed
gray hat, torn at the crown, and a
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 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTI'E
97
large checked shirt tucked into jeans supported by suspenders. He turned at the door
and kissed his wife. Poinsett took careful aim with his .56, choosing as his aiming
point the man's left suspender buckle. Taking a good deep breath he held it and
squeezed off his shot.
The big bullet struck with a heavy thump. The man took a heavy lurch sidewise, tried
to straighten and then went down. His wife ran from the door, screaming. Up the street
a door banged and two men ran into the street, staring. Starrett's first , shot knocked
the rifle from the hand of one, splintering the stock.
I Poinsett dropped his man, but the fellow began to drag himself, favoring one leg
which even from a distance they could see covered with a dark blotch at the knee.
Poinsett was a man without mercy. Coolly and carefully, he squeezed off his second
shot. The man stiffened, jerked spasmodi
and lay still.
"Missed my man," Alf said, apologetically, "but I ruint his
iron."
Poinsett spat, his eyes cold. "Could happen to anybody," he
philosophically, "but I figured you burnt him anyways." Within the saloon Kedrick
had a glass half to his mouth when
shot boomed. It was followed almost at once by two more, the
sounding almost as one.
"Blazes!" Shad whirled. "They ain't here yet?"
"They've been here," Kedrick said with quick realization. He
to the door, glancing up the street. He saw the body of the man to fall. Leaning
out a bit, he glimpsed the other. His lips
for neither man was moving.
"Somebody is up the draw," he explained quickly. "He's got
street covered. Is there a back way?"
Kedrick dove for the door followed by the others as the bar
indicated the exit, catching up his shotgun. His pockets already stuffed with shells.
At the door Kedrick halted.
tg against the wall, he stared up the draw. From here he see the edge of the bunch
of boulders and guessed the fire from there. "Pinned down," he said. "They are up
the
Nobody moved. Kedrick's memory for terrain served him to
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Louis L'AMOUR
good purpose now. Recalling the draw he remembered that it was below the level of
the town beyond that point. But right there the boulders offered a perfect firing
point.
Scattered shots came from down the draw, and nobody spoke. All knew that they could
not long withstand the attack.
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made up his mind quickly. Defense of the town was impossible. They would be either
wiped out or burned alive they attempted to remain. "Shad," he said quickly, "get
across street to Dai and Pit. Yell out to the others and get them to back, regardless
of risk, to the canyon at the foot of Yellow
took a step back and glanced at the trap door to the roof.
bartender saw the intent and shook his head. "You can't do boy. They'd git you from
down the crick."
going to chance it. I think they are still too far off. If I can you folks covering
fire you may make it."
"What about you?" Shad demanded.
"I'll make it. Get moving!"
i Laredo wheeled and darted to the door, paused an instant and
across the street. The bartender hesitated, swore softly,
followed. Kedrick picked up a bottle of the liquor and shoved !into his shirt, then
jumped for the edge of the trap door, caught
and pulled himself through into the small attic. Carefully, he
the situation.
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Louis L'AMOUR
Hot firing came from down stream, and evidently the killers were momentarily stopped
there. He hoisted himself through, swung to the ride of the roof, and carefully studied
the boulders. Suddenly, he caught a movement, and knew that what he had first believed
to be a gray rock was actually a shirt. He took careful aim with his Winchester,
then fired.
The gray shirt jumped, and a hand flew up, then fell loose. Instantly a Spencer boomed
and a bullet tore a chunk from the ridge near his face and splattered him with splinters.
Kedrick moved down roof a bit. Then catching the signal from the window across the
street, he deliberately shoved his rifle and head up, fired four fast shots, then
two more.
Ducking his head, he reloaded the Winchester. Another bullet smashed the ridgepole.
Then a searching fire began, the heavy slugs tearing through the roof about three
to four inches below the top.
Kedrick slid down the roof. He hesitated at the edge of the trap door, and seeing
a distant figure circling to get behind the men in the wash, he took careful aim
and squeezed off his shot. It was all of five hundred yards, and he had only a small
bit of darkness at which to aim.
The shot kicked up sand short of the mark by a foot or more as nearly as he could
judge. He knew he had missed, but the would-be sniper lost his taste for his circling
movement and slid out of sight. Kedrick went down the trap and dropped again into
the saloon. Regretfully, he glanced at the stock of whisky, then picked up two more
bottles and stuffed them into his pockets.
Hesitating only a second, he lunged across the street for the shelter of the opposite
building. The Spencer boomed, and he knew that the hidden marksman had been awaiting
this effort. He felt the shock of the bullet, staggered but kept going.
Reaching the opposite side, he felt the coldness of something on his stomach and
glanced down. The bottle in his shirt had been broken by the bullet and he smelled
to high heaven of good whisky. Picking the glass out of his shirt, he dove for the
livery stable and swung into the saddle on the palouse.
The Spencer boomed again and again as he hit the road riding hard, but he made it.
The others cheered as he rode pellmell through the canyon mouth and swung to the
ground.
104
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTTE
101
"This is no good," Laine said. "They can get behind us on the
Two men limped in from the draw, having withdrawn from to boulder. Kedrick glanced
around. There were fourteen men and women here who were on their feet. One man, the
one had the rifle knocked from his hand, had a shattered arm. others were slightly
wounded. Of them all, he had only men able to fight.
Quickly, he gave directions for their retreat. Then with Dai and to hold the canyon
mouth and cover them, they started back the canyon.
Tom Kedrick measured his group thoughtfully. Of Laredo, Dai Laine, he had no doubts
at all. Of these others, he could not sure. Good men, some of them, and one or two
were obvifrightened. Nobody complained, however, and one of the whose face was pale,
took a wounded man's rifle and gave a shoulder on which to lean. Kedrick led them
to the creand down into it.
Amazed, they stared around. "What d'you know?" The barspat. "Been here nigh seven
year an' never knowed o' this
i There were four horses in the group, but they brought them all
the cave. One of the men complained, but Kedrick turned on "There's water, but we
may be glad to eat horse meat." The swallowed and stared.
at Kedrick's shirt. "Man, you're bleedin'!"
grinned. "That isn't blood, it's whisky. They busted of the bottles I brought away."
chuckled. "I'd most as soon it was blood," he said, "seems a of good likker."
i The able men gathered near the escape end of the crevasse,
one of them grinned at Kedrick. "I wondered how you got
so slick. Is there another way out down there?"
He shook his head. "If there is, I don't know it. I waited and
out through the canyon when it wasn't watched."
Laine's face was serious. "They could hold us in here," he said,
. "We'd be stuck for sure."
Kedrick nodded. "I'm taking an extra canteen and some grub,
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Louis L'AMOUR
then I'm going atop the butte to join Burt Williams. I'd like one man with me. From
up there we can hold them off, I think."
"I'm your man," Laredo said quietly. "Wait'll I get my gear." A rifle boomed, and
then Dai Reid joined them. "They are comin' up," he said. He glanced at Kedrick.
"One man dead in the boulders. I got the look of him by my glass. It was All Starrett.
Poinsett was the other."
"Starrett was a skunk," Burnett, one of the settlers said, "a low down skunk. He
kilt a man up Kansas way, an' a man disappeared from his outfit once that occasioned
considerable doubt if he didn't git hisself another."
Kedrick turned to Pit Laine. "Looks like your show down here," he said. "Don't open
fire until you have to, and don't fire even one shot unless it's needed. We'll be
on top."
He led the way out of the crevasse and into the boulders and brush behind it. There
was no sign of the attackers, and he surmised they were holed up awaiting the arrival
of some supporting fire from the rim back of the canyon.
Tom glanced up at the towering butte. It reared itself all of a hundred and fifty
feet above him and most of it was totally without cover. As they waited, a rifle
boomed high above them and there was a puff of dust in the canyon mouth. Burt Williams
had opened up.
Their first move toward the butte brought fire, and Laredo drew back. "No chance.
We'll have to wait until dark. You reckon they'll hit us before then?"
"If they do, they won't get far." Tom Kedrick hunkered well down among the slabs
of rock at the foot of the Butte. "We've got us a good firing point right here."
He rolled a smoke and lit up. "What are you planning when this is over, Shad? Do
you plan to stay here?"
The tall Texan shrugged. "Ain't pondered it much. Reckon that will take care of itself.
What you aimin' to do?"
"You know the Mogollons southwest of here? I figured I'd go down there and lay out
a ranch for myself." He smoked thoughtfully. "Down in East Texas, before I came west,
a fellow arrived there named Ikard. Had some white-faced cattle with him, and you
should see 'em! Why, they have more beef on one sorry
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 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTTE
103
critter than three longhorns. I figured a man could get himself a
Hereford bulls and start a herd. Might even buy fifty or sixty head for a beginning,
and let 'em mix with the longhorns if they
i "I might go for somethin' like that," Laredo said quietly. "I always wanted to
own a ranch. Fact is, I started one once, but had to git shut of it."
He stared down the canyon toward the mouth, his rifle across
knees. He did not look at Kedrick, but he commented casu
"We need luck, Cap'n, plenty of luck."
"Uh huh," Kedrick's face was sober. "I wonder who was on
up the canyon? Or supposed to be?"
"Somebody said his name was Hirst. Sallow-faced hombre." "We'll have to talk to him.
Was he down below?"
"Come to think of it, he wasn't. He must have hid out back
"Or sold out. Remember Singer? He wouldn't have been the
one."
i Laredo rubbed out the last of his cigarette. "They'll be makin' play soon. You
know, Kedrick, I'd as soon make a break for get a couple of horses an' head for Mustang.
When we go we as well take Keith an' that dirty Burwick with us."
Kedrick nodded agreement, but he was thinking of the men There were at least four
good men aside from Shad, Laine Dai Reid. That left the numbers not too unevenly
balanced. fighting skill and numbers were slightly on the enemy's side,
they had at least twelve men when the battle opened, and they lost Starrett. That
made the odds eleven to eight unless had moved up extra men, which was highly probable.
Still, were expecting defense. But an attack might . . .
He studied the situation. Suddenly, a dark shape loomed on rim of the canyon some
hundred and fifty yards off and much The figure lifted his rifle and fired even as
both Shad and threw down on him with rifles, firing instantly. The man but whether
hit or not they could not tell.
I Desultory firing began, and from time to time, they caught ses of men advancing
from the canyon mouth--never in long enough to offer a target, and usually rising
from the
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Louis L'AMOUR
ground some distance from where they dropped. The afternoon was drawing on, however,
and the sun was setting almost in the faces of the attackers, which made their aim
uncertain and their movements hesitant. Several times Shad or Kedrick dusted the
oncoming party, but they got in no good shots. Twice a rifle boomed from the top
of the butte, and once they heard a man cry out as though hit.
"You know, Laredo," Kedrick said suddenly, "it goes against the grain to back up
for those, coyotes. I'm taking this grub up to Burr. When I come back down, we're
going to move down that canyon and see how much stomach they've got for a good scrap."
Shad grinned, his eyes flickering with humor. "That's ace high with me, pardner,"
he said dryly. "I never was no hand for a hole, an' the women are safe."
"All but one," Kedrick said, "that Missus Taggart who lives in that first house.
Her husband got killed and she wouldn't leave."
"Yeah, heard one o' the women folks speak on it. That Taggart never had a chance.
Good folks, those two."
Colonel Loren Keith stared gloomily at the towering mass of Yellow Butte. That man
atop the butte had them pinned down. Now if they could just get up there. He thought
of the men he had commanded in years past, and compared them with these attacking
the town. A pack of murderers. How had he got into this, anyway? Why couldn't a man
know when he took a turning where it would lead him? It seemed so simple in the beginning
to run off a bunch of one-gallused farmers and squatters.
Wealth--he had always wanted wealth, the money to pay his way in the circles where
he wanted to travel. But somehow it had always eluded him, and this had seemed a
wonderful chance. Bitterly, he stared at the butte and remembered the greasy edge
of Burwick's shirt collar, and the malice in his eyes--Burwick who used men as he
saw fit, and disposed of them when he was through.
In the beginning it hadn't seemed that way. His own commanding presence, his soldier's
stride, his cold clarity of thought, all these had led him to despise Gunter as a
mere business man
108
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BU'I'TE
105
Burwick as a conniving weakling. But then suddenly Burwick
to show his true self, and all ideas of controlling the whole
left Keith while he stared in shocked horror as the man masked. Alton Burwick was
no dirty weakling, no mere ugly fat
but a monster of evil, a man with a brain like a steel trap,
at nothing. By his very depth of wickedness he had Keith into obedience.
Gunter had wanted to pull out. Only now would Keith admit
to himself the cause of Gunter's death, and he knew he
die as quickly. How many times had he not seen the
in the eyes of Dornie Shaw, and well he knew how
Shaw stood to Burwick. In a sense, they were of a kind. His feeling of helplessness
shocked and horrified Keith. He had
imagined himself a strong man, and had gone his way,
g and supercilious. Now he saw himself as only a tool t.the hands of a man he despised.
Yet he was unable to escape.
deep within him there was the hope that they still
pull their chestnuts from the fire and take the enormous the deal promised.
One man stood large in his mind, one man drew all his anger,
hate and bitterness. That man was Tom Kedrick.
From that first day, Kedrick had made him seem a fool. He,
had endeavored to put Kedrick firmly in his place, speak of his rank and his twelve
years of service, and then Kedrick calmly paraded such an array of military experience
that few
could equal, and right before them all. He had not doubted
for vaguely now, he remembered some of the stories he heard of the man. That the
story was the truth, and that
was a friend of Ransome's infuriated him still more. the stepped into the makeshift
saloon and poured a drink, star
at it gloomily. Fessenden came in, Goff with him.
"We goin' to roust them out o' there, Colonel?" Goff asked. "It
be dark, soon."
tossed all his drink. "Yes, right away. Are the rest of out there?"
but Poinsett. He'll be along."
Keith poured another stiff shot and tossed it off as quickly, then
them into the street of Yeilow Butte.
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Lous L'AMOUR
They were all gathered there---all but the Mixus boys, who had followed along toward
the canyon, and a couple of the newcomers who had circled to get on the cliff above
and beyond the boulders and brush where the squatters had taken refuge.
Poinsett was walking down the road in long strides. He was abreast of the first house
when a woman stepped from the door. She was a square-built woman in a faded blue
cotton dress and man's shoes, run down at the heel. She held a double-barreled shotgun
in her hands. As Poinsett drew abreast of her, she turned on him and fired.
She shot both barrels, at point-blank range, and Poinsett took them right through
the middle. Almost torn in two, he hit the ground, gasping once, his blood staining
the gray gravel before the shocked eyes of the clustered men.
The woman turned on them, and they saw she was not young. Her square face was red
and a few strands of graying hair blew about her face. As she looked at them, her
work-roughened hands still clutching the empty shotgun, she motioned at the fallen
man in the faded check shirt.
In that moment, the fact that she was fat, growing old, and that her thick legs ended
in the grotesque shoes seemed to vanish-- and in the blue eyes were no tears. Her
chin trembled a little as she said, "He was my man. Taggart never give me much, an'
he never had it to give, but in his own way, he loved me. You killed him--all of
you. I wish I had more shells."
She turned her back on them. Without another glance, she went into the house and
closed the door behind her.
They stood in a grim half circle, each man faced suddenly with the enormity of what
they were doing and had done.
Lee Goff was the first to speak. He stood straddle legged, his thick hard body bulging
all his clothes, his blond hair bristling. "Anybody bothers that woman," he said,
"I'll kill him."
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 THIRTEEN
led his attack just before dusk and lost two men before company men withdrew. But
the attack had paid off--they learned of the hole. Dornie Shaw squatted behind the
abut kent formed by the end wall of the canyon where it opened on plain near the
arroyo. "That makes it easy," he said. "We still dynamite."
Keith's head came up and he saw Shaw staring at him, his eyes alight. "Or does that
go against the grain, Colonel? About sticks of dynamite dropped into that crevasse
an' Burwick will what he wants--no bodies."
"If there's a cave back there," Keith objected, "they'd be buralive!" Nobody replied.
Keith's eyes wandered around to the other but their eyes were on the ground. They
were shunning
for the act, and only Shaw enjoyed the prospect. shuddered. What a fool he had been
to get mixed up in
A horse's hoof struck stone, and as one man they looked up.
they could not see the horse they heard the creak of
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 108
Louis L'AMOUR
saddle leather. A spur jingled, and Alton Burwick stood among them.
Loren Keith straightened to his feet and briefly explained the situation. Burwick
nodded from time to time, then added, "Use the dynamite. First thing in the morning.
That should end it, once and for all."
He drew a cigar from his pocket and bit off the end. "Had a wire. That committee
is comin' out, all right. Take them a couple of weeks to get here, an' by that time
folks should be over this an' talkin' about somethin' else. I'm figurin' a bonus
for you all."
He turned back toward his horse, then stopped and catching Dornie Shaw's eye, jerked
his head.
Shaw got up from the fire and followed him, and Keith stared after them, his eyes
bitter. Now what? Was he being left out of something else?
Beyond the edge of the firelight and beyond the reach of their ears, Burwick paused
and let Shaw come up to him. "Nice work, Dornie," he said. "We make a pair, you an'
me.'"
"Yeah," Dornie nodded. "An' sometimes I think a pair's enough."
"Well," Burwick puffed on his cigar, "I need a good man to side me, an' Gunter's
gone--at least."
"That company o' yours," Dornie was almost whispering, "had too many partners, anyway."
"Uh huh," Burwick said quietly, "it still has."
"All right, then." Dornie hitched his guns into a firmer seating on his thighs. "I'll
be in to see you in a couple of days at most."
Burwick turned and walked away, and Dornie saw him swing easily to the saddle. He
stayed where he was, looking into the darkness and listening to the slow steps of
the horse. They had a funny sound--a very funny sound.
When he walked back to the campfire, he was whistling Green Grow the Lilacs, O.
The attack came again at daybreak. The company had mustered twenty men, of whom two
carried packages of dynamite. This was to be the final blow. The squatters were to
be wiped out, once and for all.
112
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTI'E
109
Shortly before the arrival of Burwick, Keith and Dornie Shaw, with Fessenden accompanying
them, made a careful reconnaissance of the canyon from the rim. What they found pleased
them enormously. It was obvious, once the crevasse had been located, that not more
than two men could fire from it at once, and the attackers could find plenty of cover
from the scattered boulders. In fact, they could get within throwing distance without
emerging in the open for more than a few seconds at a time. Much of the i squatters'
field of fire would be ruined by their proximity to the
ground and the rising of the boulders before them.
The attack started well, with all the men moving out. They made twenty yards into
the canyon, moving fast. Here, the great slabs fallen from the slope of Yellow Butte
crowded them together. And there the attack stopped.
It stopped abruptly, meeting a withering wall of rifle fire--at
range!
Tom Kedrick knew a thing or two about fighting, and he knew full well that the hideout
in the crevasse would in the long run
a deathtrap. He put himself in Keith's place and decided
that man would do. Then he had his eight men, carrying rifles, slip like Indians
through the darkness to carefully
firing positions far down the canyon from where Keith be expecting to find them.
Five of the attackers died in that first burst of fire. As the broke for cover, two
more went down. One dragged the camp of the previous night with a shattered knee}.
He found himself alone.
The wife of Taggart had begun it--the mighty blast of rifle fire
it.
The company fighters got out of the canyon's mouth, and as
man they moved for their horses. Keith was among them and
to be going. Dornie Shaw watched him mount up, and swung alongside him. Behind them,
moving carefully as if they were
disciplined troops, the defenders of the canyon moved down, firing as they camel
A horse dropped, and a man crawled into the rocks, then jumped up and ran. Dai Reid
swung wide of the group and started after him.
Another went down before they got away, and Kedrick turned
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Louis L'AMOUR
to his group. "Get your horses, men. The women will be all right. This is a job that
needs finishing now."
A quarter of a mile away, Brokow spotted a horse, standing alone, and started for
it. As he arose from the rocks, a voice called out from behind. "A minute!"
Brokow turned. He saw only one man approachinghim, the Welshman, Dai Reid. He stared
at the man's Spencer, remembering his own gun was empty. He backed up slowly, his
eyes haunted. "My rifle's empty," he said, "an' I've lost my Colt."
"Drop the rifle then," Dai said quietly. "This I've been wanting, for guns be not
my way."
Brokow did not understand, but he dropped his rifle. He was a big man, hulking and
considered powerful. He watched in amazement as Reid placed his Spencer carefully
on the ground, and then his gun belt. With bowlegged strides, the shorter man started
for Brokow.
The outlaw stared, then started forward to meet Dai. As they drew near, he swung.
His rock-like fist smashed Dai Reid flush on the chin. But Reid only blinked, then
lunged. Twice more Brokow swung, blows filled with smashing panic born of the lack
of effect of that first punch. Dai was unable to avoid the blows, and both connected
solidly. But then Dai's huge, big-knuckled hand grasped Brokow's arm and jerked him
near.
The hand slipped to the back of his head and jerked Brokow's face down to meet the
rising of the Welshman's head. Stars burst before Brokow's eyes, and he felt the
bone go in his nose. He swung wildly, and then those big hands gripped his throat
and squeezed till Brokow was dead. Then Dai Reid dropped the outlaw to the sand.
Turning, he walked away. He did not notice the horse that stood waiting. It was a
grulla.
In the headlong flight that followed the debacle in the canyon's mouth, only Lee
Goff had purpose. The hard-bitten Montana gunman had stared reality in the face when
Taggart's wife turned on him. It was only coincidence that she so resembled his own
mother, long since dead of overwork in rearing seven boys and five girls on a bleak
Montana ranch.
He headed directly for Yellow Butte and the Taggart home. He did not dismount, but
stopped by the door and knocked gently. It
114
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTTE
111
opened and he faced Mrs. Taggart, her eyes red from weeping. "Ma'am," he said, "I
guess I ain't much account, but this here's been too much. I'm driftin'. Will you
take this here---as a favor to me?"
He shoved a thick roll of bills at her, his face flushing deep red. For an instant,
she hesitated, and then she accepted the money with dignity. "Thanks, son. You're
a good boy."
Goff put spurs to his horse and swung it around. The bald.faced sorrel disappeared
into the darkness of the night. Lee Goff had had his belly full. He was heading for
Colorado, or Utah--- . anywhere . . . but away.
Elsewhere, Tom Kedrick was riding to Mustang. With him were Laredo Shad, Pit Laine,
Dai Reid, Burt Williams, and the others. They made a tight, grim-faced little cavalcade,
and they rode with eir rifles across their saddle forks.
Due west of them, however, another little drama was taking place. The riders they
followed did not include all the men who had abandoned the fight in the canyon. Two
of them, Dornie and Colonel Loren Keith, had headed due west on their Both of them
had their own thoughts and their own ideas of to do. Among other things, Keith had
decided that he had enough. Whether the others knew it or not, they were through,
and he was getting out of the country.
There was some money back there in Mustang, and once he had he was going to mount
up and head for California. Then let
investigate. After a few years he would return to the If the subject ever came up,
he would swear he had nothing with it, that he only represented the company legally
in the first steps of the venture.
,, What Dornie Shaw was thinking nobody ever guessed. At this '.moment, however,
he had no thought at all in his mind. For his '.mind was not overly given to thought.
He liked a few things, although he rarely drank, and seemed never to eat much. He
liked a good horse and a woman with about an equal degree of
and he had liked Sue Laine a good bit. However, the woman who really fascinated him
was Connie Duane, and she seemed unaware that he was alive.
Most of all he liked a gun. When cornered or braced into a
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Louis L'AMOUR
fight, he killed as naturally and simply as most men eat. He was a creature of destruction,
pure and simple. Never in his life had he been faced with a man who made him doubt
his skill, and never had he fought with anything but guns--and he vowed he never
would.
The two rode rapidly and both were mounted well. By the time Kedrick was leaving
Yellow Butte with his men and lining out for town, Shaw and Keith reached the bank
of Salt Creek Wash. Here Keith swung down to tighten his saddle cinch while his horse
was drinking. After a moment, Dornie got down, too.
Absently Keith asked, "Well, Dornie, this breaks it, so where do you think you'll
go now?"
"Why, Colonel," Shaw said softly, in his gentle boy's voice. "I don't know exactly
where I'm goin, but this here's as far as you
go."
It took a minute for the remark to sink in, and then Keith turned, his puzzled expression
stiffening into black horror, then fear. Dornie Shaw stood negligently watching him,
his lips smiling a little, his eyes opaque and empty.
The realization left Loren Keith icy cold. Dornie Shaw was going to kill him.
He had been an utter fool ever to allow this to happen. Why had he left the others
and come off with Shaw? Why hadn't he killed him long since, from behind if need
be, for the man was like a mad dog. He was insane, completely insane.
"What's on your mind, Shaw?" Without realizing it he spoke as he might to a subordinate.
Shaw was not conscious of the tone. He was looking at Keith's belt line. The Colonel,
he reflected, had been taking on a little weight lately.
"Why, just what I say. You've come as far as your trail takes you, Colonel. I can't
say I'm sorry."
"Burwick won't like this. We're two of the men on whom he relies."
"Uh huh, that's the way it was. It ain't now. Back yonder," he jerked his head toward
the butte, "he sort of implied he'd got hisself one too many partners." He shoved
his hat back a little. "You want to try for your gun? It won't help you none, but
you can try."
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 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTTE
113
Keith was frightened. Every muscle within him seemed to have tightened until he could
not move, yet he knew he was going to. But at the last, he had something to say,
and it came from some deep inner conviction. "Kedrick will kill you, Dornie. He's
going to win. He'll beat Burwick, too."
Suddenly, he remembered something: it had been only a fleeting expression on Dornie
Shaw's face, but something. "Dornie!" he shot the word out with the force of desperation.
"There behind you! The grulla!"
Shaw whirled, his face white, an almost animal-like fury on it. As he turned, Keith,
gasping hoarsely and triumphantly, grabbed for his gun. He got it, and the gun swung
up. But he had never coped with a fighter like Shaw. In the flashing instant that
he whirled and found nothing behind him, Dornie hurled himself backward. The shot
split wide the air where he had stood an instant before, and then Dornie himself
fired from the ground. He fired once, then a second time.
Keith caught the bullet through the midsection, right where :that extra weight had
been gathering, and took the second one in the same place.
He fell, half in the trickle of water that comprised Salt Creek. shells into his
gun, Dornie Shaw stared down at the glazing eyes. "How did you know?" he asked sullenly.
"How did .you know?"
117
 FOURTEEN
Fessenden rode well forward in the saddle, his bulk
great
carried easily with the movement of the horse. His wide face was
somber with thought and distaste. Like the others, the wife of
Taggart had affected him as nothing else could have. He was a
hard man who had done more than his share of killing. But he
had killed men ruthlessly, thoughtlessly, killed men in mortal
combat where he himself might die as easily.
Several times before he had hired his gun, but each time in
cattle or sheep wars or struggles with equals, men as gun-wise as
he himself. Never before had he actually joined in a move to rob
men of their homes. Without conscience in the usual sense, he
had it in this case. For the men who moved West, regardless of
their brand, were largely men in search of homes. Before, he had
thought little of their fight. Several times he had helped to drive
nesters from cattle range, and to him that was just and logical.
Cows needed grass and people lived on beef, and most of the
range country wasn't suited to farming, anyway.
But now there was a difference, he realized, thinking of it for
the first time. Now men were not being driven off for cattle, but
114
118
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BU'IE
115
only for profit. To many, the line was a fine one to draw; to and his like, once
the matter was seen in its true light, line became a gap, an enormous one.
Actually, he rode in a state of shock. The victory Keith had wanted seemed so near.
The taking of the few left in the canyon had seemed simple. His qualms against the
use of dynamite he : had shrugged off, if uncomfortably. He had gone into the canyon
the others to get the thing over with, to get his money and out. And then, long before
they expected it, came that smashthunderous volley. It had been made more crashing
by the iclose canyon walls, more destructive by the way the attackers were channeled
by the boulders.
Shock started the panic, and distaste for the whole affair kept some of them, at
least, on the move. Yet it was hard to believe Clauson and Poinsett were dead, that
Brokow had vanished, Lee Goff was gone. For alone of the group, Goff had told he
was leaving. He had not needed to tell him why.
Behind him rode the Mixus boys, somber with disappointment the failure of the attack.
They had no qualms about killing, and lines to draw even at the killing of women.
They were in no sense fighting men; they were butchers. Yet even they realthe change
that had come over the group. What had become Brokow or Goff they did not know. But
they did know that had set in. In turn, these men had turned into a pack of wolves
venting their fury and their hatred on other.
Mustang lay quiet when they rode into town. It was the quiet the storm. The town,
like that cattle buyer who had turned to Durango, sensed the coming fury of battle.
No women were on the street, and only a few hardy souls loitered at the bars
card tables. The chairs before the St. James were deserted, and Clay Allison had
ridden back to his home ranch, drunk and ugly. An almost Sunday peace lay over the
sun-swept town when drew up before the Mustang Saloon and swung down
!from his weary horse. Slapping his hat against his leg to beat off ithe dust, Fessenden
stood like a great shaggy bull and surveyed
, the quiet of the street. He was too knowing a Western man not to recognize the
symptoms of disaster. Clapping his hat all awry
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 116
Louis L'AMoUR
upon his shaggy head, he shoved his bulk through the doors and moved to the bar.
"Rye," he said, his voice booming in the cavernous interior. His eyes glinted around
the room, then back to the bartender.
That worthy could no longer restrain his curiosity. "What's happened?" he asked,
swallowing.
A glint of irony came into the hard eyes of the gunman. "Them squatters squatted
there for keeps," he said wryly, "an' they showed us they aim to stay put." He tossed
off his drink. "All Hades busted loose." Briefly he explained. "You'd a figured there
was a thousand men in that neck of the rocks when they opened up. The thing that
did it was the unexpectedness of it, like steppin' on a step in the dark when it
ain't there."
He poured another drink. "It was that Kedrick," he said grimly.
"When I seen him shift to the other side I should've lit a shuck." "What about Keith?"
"He won't be back."
They turned at the new voice, and saw Dornie Shaw standing in the doorway, smiling.
Still smiling, he walked on in and leaned against the bar. "Keith won't be back,"
he said. "He went for his gun out on Salt Creek."
The news fell into a silent room. A man at a table shifted his feet and his chair
creaked. Fessenden wet his lips and downed his second drink. He was getting out of
town, but fast.
"Seen that girl come in, short time back," the bartender said suddenly, "that Duane
g!rl. Thought she'd gone over to the other side?"
Dornie's head lifted and his eyes brightened, then shadowed. He downed his own drink
and walked jauntily to the door. "Stick around, Fess. I'll be back." He grinned.
"I'll collect for both of us from the Old Man."
The bartender looked at Fessenden: "Reckon he'll bring it if he does?"
The big gunman nodded absently. "Sure. He's no thief. Why, that kid never stole a
thing in his life. He don't believe in it. An' he won't lie or swear but he'll shoot
the heart out of you an' smile right in your face while he's doing it."
The show had folded. The roundup was over. There was noth
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 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTrE
117
ing to do now but light out. Fessenden knew he should go, but a queer apathy had
settled over him. He ordered another drink, letting the bartender pour it. The liquor
he drank seemed now to fall into a cavern without bottom and had no effect.
On the outskirts of town, Tom Kedrick reined in. "We'll keep together," he said quietly.
"We want Keith, Shaw, Burwick, the Mixus boys and Fessenden. There are about four
others that you will recognize whom I don't know by name. Let's work fast and make
no mistakes.
"Pit, you take Dai and two men and go up the left side of the street. Take no chances.
Arrest them if you can. We'll try them, and"--his face was grim--"if we find them
guilty they'll have just two sentences: leave the country or hang. The Mixus boys
and Shaw," he said, "will hang. They've done murder."
He turned in his saddle and glanced at the tall Texan. "Come on, Shad," he said quietly,
"we'll take two men and the right side of the street, which means the livery stable,
the St. James and the Mustang."
Kedrick glanced over at Laine. "Pit," he said, "if you run into
or Ketchum, better leave 'em alone. We don't want 'em."
Laine's face was grave. "I ain't huntin' 'em," he said grimly, "but if they want
it, they can have it."
The parties rode into town and swung down on their respective sides of the street.
Laredo grinned at Kedrick, but his eyes were
"Nobody wants to cross Laine today," he said quietly. ."The man's in a killin' mood.
It's his sister."
"Wonder what will happen when they meet?"
"I hope they don't," Shad said. "She's a right purty sort of gal, only money crazy.'I
The two men stood hesitant, waiting for orders. Both were ifarmers. One carried a
Spencer .56, the other a shotgun. Shad
at them. "Let these hombres cover the street, Tom," he
"You take the St. James, an' I'll take the stable."
Kedrick hesitated. "All right," he agreed finally. "But take no chances, boy."
Laredo grinned and waved a negligent hand and walked through
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 118
Louis L'AMouR
the wide door of the stable. Inside, he paused, cold and seemingly careless, actually
as poised and deadly as a coiled rattler. He had already seen Abe Mixus's sorrel
pony and guessed the two dry-gulchers were in town. He walked on a step and saw the
barrel of a rifle push through the hay.
He lunged right and dove into a stall, drawing his gun as he went. He ran full tilt
into the other Mixus. Their bodies smashed together, and Mixus, caught off balance,
went down and roiled over. He came up, clawing for a gun. Laredo kicked the gun from
under his hand and sent it spinning into the wide open space between the rows of
stalls.
With a kind of whining cry, Bean Mixus sprang after it, slid to his knees and got
up, turning. Laredo Shad stood tall and dark, just within the stafl. As Mixus turned
like a rat cornered and swung his gun around, Laredo Shad fired. His two shots slammed
loud in the stillness of the huge barn. Bean Mixus fell dead.
The rifle bellowed and a shot ripped the stall stanchion near Laredo's head. He lunged
into the open, firing twice more at the stack of straw. The rifle jerked, then thundered
again, but the shot went wild. Laredo dove under the loft where Abe Mixus was concealed,
and fired two more shots through the roof over his head where he guessed the killer
would be lying.
Switching his guns, he bolstered the empty one and waited. The roof creaked some
distance away. Laredo began to stalk the escaping Mixus, slipping from stall to stall.
Suddenly, a back door creaked and a broad path of light shot into the darkness of
the stable. Laredo lunged to follow--too late.
The farmer outside with the shotgun was the man Sloan. As Abe Mixus lunged through
the door to escape, they came face to face, at no more than twenty feet of distance.
Abe had his rifle at his hip and he fired. The shot ripped through the water trough
beside Sloan, and the farmer squeezed off the left-hand barrel of his shotgun.
The solid core of shot hit Mixus in the shoulder and neck, knocking him back against
the side of the door. His long face was drawn and terror stricken, his neck and shoulder
a mass of blood that seemed to well from a huge wound. He fought to get his gun up,
Sloan stepped forward, remembering Bob McLennon's death
122
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTFE
119
and the deaths of Steelman and Slagle. The other barrel thundered and a sharp blast
of flame stabbed at Abe Mixus.
Smashed and dead, the killer sagged against the doorjamb, his old hat falling free,
his face pillowed in the gray, blood-mixed dust.
Silence hung heavy in the wake of the shots. Into that silence Laredo Shad spoke.
"Hold it, Sloan!" He stepped through the door, taking no glance at the fallen man.
"The other one won't hang, either," he said. "They were both inside."
The two men drew aside, Sloan's face gray and sick. He had never killed a man before,
and wanted never to again. He tried to roll a smoke but his fingers trembled. Shad
took the paper and tobacco from him and rolled it. The farmer looked up, shamefaced.
"Guess I'm yaller," he said. "That sort of got me."
The Texan looked at him gloomily. "Let's hope it always does," he said. He handed
him the cigarette. "Try this," he told him. "It
make you feel better. Wonder how Kedrick's comin'?" "Ain't heard nothin'!"
Pit Laine stood in a door across the street. "Everythin' all right?" he called.
"Yeah," the other farmer called back, "on'y you don't hafta look for the Mixus boys
no more. They ain't gonna be around."
Captain Tom Kedrick had walked up the street and turned into the door of the St.
James Hotel. The wide lobby was still, a ihollow shell, smelling faintly of old tobacco
fumes and leather.
The wrinkled clerk looked up and shook his head. "Quiet today," he said. "Nobody
around. Ain't been no shootin' in days."
Guns thundered from down the street, then again and again. Then there was silence
followed by the two solid blasts of the shotgun.
Both men listened, and no further sound came. A moment later Pit Laine called out
and the farmer answered. The clerk nodded. "Same town," he said. "Last couple of
days I been wonderin' if I
W '
asn t back in Ohio. Awful quiet lately," he said, "awful quiet."
Tom Kedrick walked down the hall and out the back door. He went down the weathered
steps and stopped on the grass behind the building. There was an old, rusty pump
there, and the sun
hot on the backs of the buildings.
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 120
Louis L'AMOUR
He walked over to the pump and worked the handle. It protested, whining and groaning
at the unaccustomed work and finally, despairing of rest, threw up a thick core of
water that splashed in the wooden tub. When he had pumped for several minutes, Kedrick
held the gourd dipper under the pump and let it fill. The water was clear and very
cold. He drank greedily, rested, then drank again.
Far up the backs of the buildings, at the opposite end of town, a man was swinging
an ax. Kedrick could see the flash of light on the blade, and see the ax strike home.
A moment later, the sound would come to him. He watched, then wiped the back of his
hand across his mouth and started along in back of the buildings toward the Mustang.
He moved with extreme care, going steadily, yet with every sense alert. He wore his
.44 Russians, and liked the feel of them, ready to his hands. The back door of the
Mustang Saloon was long unpainted and blistered by many hot suns. He glanced at the
hinges and saw they were rusty. The door would squeak. Then he saw the outside stair
leading to the second floor. Turning, he mounted the stairs on tiptoe, easing through
the door, and walked down the hall.
In the saloon below, Fessenden had eliminated half a bottle of whisky without destroying
the deadening sense of futility that had come over him. He picked up a stack of cards
and riffled them skillfully through his fingers. He had not lost his deftness. Whatever
effect the whisky had had, it was not on his hands.
Irritated, he slammed the cards down and stared at the bartender. "Wish Dornie'd
get back," he said for the tenth time. "I want to leave this town. She don't feel
right today."
He had heard shots down the street, but had not moved from the bar. "Some drunk cowhand,"
he said irritably.
"You better look," the bartender suggested, hoping for no fights in the saloon. "It
might be some of your outfit."
"I got no outfit," Fess replied shortly. "I'm fed up. That stunt out there to Yeller
Butte drove me off that range. I'll have no more of it."
He heard the footsteps coming down the hall from upstairs and listened to their even
cadence. He glanced up, grinning, "Sounds like an army man. Listen!"
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 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTI'E
121
Realization of what he had said came over him, and the grin left his face. He straightened,
resting his palms on the bar. For a long moment, he stared into the bartender's eyes.
"I knew it! I knew that hombre would--" He tossed off his drink. "Aw, I didn't want
to leave town, anyway!"
He turned, moving back from the bar. He stood straddle legged like a huge grizzly,
his big hands swinging at his hips, his eyes glinting upward at the balcony and the
hall that gave onto it. The steps ceased, and Tom Kedrick stood there, staring down
at him.
Neither man spoke for a full minute, while suspense gripped the watchers, and then
it was Fessenden who broke the silence. "You lookin' for me, Kedrick?"
"For any of your crowd. Where's Shaw? And Keith?"
"Keith's dead. Shaw killed him back up on the Salt after you whipped us in the canyon.
I dunno where he is now."
Silence fell once more and the two men studied each other. "You were among them at
Chimney Rock, Fessenden," Kedrick
i said. "That was an ambush---dry-gulcher's stunt, Fess." Kedrick took another step
forward, then side-stepped down the first step of the stairs which ran along the
back wall until about six steps from the bottom, then after a landing, came down
facing the room.
Fessenden stood there, swaying slightly on his thick, muscular legs, his brutal jaw
and head thrust forward. "Aw, hell!" he said and grabbed iron.
His guns fairly leaped from their holsters spouting flame. A bullet smashed the top
of the newel post at the head of the stairs, then ricocheted into the wall. Another
punctured a hole just behind Kedrick's shoulder. Tom Kedrick stepped down another
step, then fired. His bullet turned Fessenden, and Kedrick ran lightly down four
steps while Fessenden smashed two shots at him.
Kedrick dove headlong for the landing, brought up hard against the wall, and smashed
another shot at the big man. It knocked a leg from under him and Fessenden rolled
over on his feet, colliding with the bar.
He had been hit twice, but he was cold sober and deadly. He braced himself and with
his left hand clinging to the bar, lifted his right and thumbed back the hammer.
Kedrick fired two quick
125
 122
Louis L'AMOUR
shots with his left gun. One ripped a furrow down the bar and hit Fessenden below
the breast bone--a jagged tearing piece of metal when it struck.
Fessenden fired again, but the bullet went wild. His sixth shot was fired in desperation
as he swung up his left-hand gun, dropping the right into his holster. Taking his
time, feeling his life's blood running out of him, he braced himself there and took
the gun over into his right hand. He was deliberate and calm. "Pour me a drink,"
he said.
The bartender, lying fiat on his face behind the bar, made no move. Tom Kedrick stood
on the edge of the landing now, staring at Fessenden. The big gunman had been hit
three times, through the shoulder, the leg and the chest, and he still stood there,
gun in hand, ponderous and invulnerable.
The gun came up and Fessenden seemed to lean forward with it. "I wish you was Dornie,"
he said.
Kedrick triggered. The shot nailed Fessenden through the chest again. The big man
took a fast step back, then another. His gun slipped from his hand, and he grabbed
a glass from the bar. "Gimme a drink!" he demanded. Blood bubbled at his lips.
Tom Kedrick came down the steps, his gun ready in his hand and walked toward Fessenden.
Holding his gun level and low down with his right hand, Kedrick picked up the bottle
with his left and filled the empty glass. Then he pulled over another glass and poured
one for himself.
Fessenden stared at him. "You're a good man, Kedrick," he said, shaping the words
patiently. "I'm a good man, tooon the wrong side."
'I'll drink to that." Kedrick lifted his glass, they clicked them, and Fessenden
grinned crookedly over his.
"You watch that Dornie," he advised, "he's rattler-mean." The words stumbled from
his mouth and he frowned, lifting the glass. He downed his drink, choked on it, and
started to hold out his big hand to Kedrick, then fell fiat on his face. Holstering
his gun, Tom Kedrick leaned over and gripped the big right hand. Fessenden grinned
and died.
126
 FIFTEEN
Duane had reached Mustang only a short time before survivors of the fight at Yellow
Butte began to arrive. Restless, after the men left to return to the squatters' town,
she had begun to think of what lay ahead, of Fred Ransome, and of the impending investigation
and of her uncle's part in it.
All his papers as well as many of her own remained under lock the gray stone house
in Mustang. If she was to get her own i!rmoney back from Burwick, or was to clear
any part of the blame
her uncle, she knew those papers would be essential. Mounting her horse she left
the camp beyond the rim. Striking the Old Mormon Trail, she headed south. She was
on that trail when the sun lifted, and she heard the distant sound of shots.
Turning from the trail she reined her horse into the bed of Salt Creek and rode south,
passing the point where only a short time later Loren Keith was to meet his death
at the hands of Dornie Shaw. Once in town she believed she would be safe. She doubted
!,iif anyone would be left in the gray house unless it was Burwick,
and she knew that he rarely left his chair.
Arriving in Mustang, she rode quickly up the street, then cut
123
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 124
Louis L'AMOUr
over behind through the back door and went very quietly. Actually, she need not have
bothered, for Alton Burwick was not there. Making her way up the old stairs, she
unlocked the door to the apartment she had shared with her uncle, and closed the
door behind her.
Nothing seemed to have been disturbed. The blinds were drawn as she had left them
and the room was still. A little dust had collected, and the light filtering in around
the blinds showed it to her. Going to her trunk, she opened it and got out the ironbound
box in which she carried her own papers. It was intact and showed no evidence of
having been tampered with. From the bottom of the trunk she took an old purse in
which there were two dozen gold eagles. These she put into the purse she was now
carrying.
Among other things she found an old pistol, a huge, cumbersome old thing. This she
got out and laid on the table beside her. Then she found a derringer seven shot .22
caliber pistol her father had given her several years before he died, and she put
it in the pocket of her dress.
Quickly she went into the next room and began to go through her uncle's desk, working
swiftly and surely. Most of his papers were readily available. Apparently nobody
had made any effort to go through them, probably believing they contained nothing
of consequence or that there would be plenty of time later. She was busy at this
when she heard a horse walk by the house and stop near the back steps.
Instantly she stopped what she was doing and stood erect. The window here was partly
open and she could hear the saddle creak very gently as whoever it was swung down.
Then a spur jingled,
and there was a step below, then silence.
"So? It's you."
Startled by the voice, Connie turned. Sue Laine stood behind her, staring with wide
eyes. "Yes," Connie replied. "I came for some things of mine. You're Sue, aren't
you?"
Without replying to the question, the girl nodded her head
toward the window. "Who was that? Did you see?"
"'No. It was a man."
"Maybe Loren has come back." Sue studied her, unsmiling.
128
 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BU'ffrE
125
"How are they out there? Are they all right? I mean---did you see Pit?"
"Yes. He's unhappy about you."
Sue Laine flushed, but her chin lifted proudly. "I suppose he is, but what did he
expect? That I was going to live all my life out there in that awful desert? I'm
sick of it! Sick of it, I tell you!"
Connie smiled. "That's strange. I love it. I love it, and every minute I'm there,
I love it more. I'd like to spend my life here, and I believe I will."
"With Tom Kedrick?"
Sue's jealousy flashed in her eyes, yet there was curiosity, too.
Connie noticed how the other girl studied her clothes, her face. "Why--I--where did
you ever get that idea?"
"From looking at him. What girl wouldn't want him? Anyway, he's the best of the lot."
"I thought you liked Colonel Keith?"
Sue's face flushed again. '7--1 thought I did, too. Only part of it was because Tom
Kedrick wouldn't notice me. And because I wanted to get away from here, from the
desert. But since thenmI guess Pit hates me."
"No brother really hates his sister, I think. He'd be glad to see you back with him."
"You don't know him. If it had been anybody but someone associated with Alton Burwick,
why--"
"You mean, you knew Burwick before?"
"Knew him?" Sue stared at her. "Didn't you know? Didn't he tell you? He was our stepfather."
"Alton Burwick?" Connie stared in amazement.
"Yes, and we always suspected that he killed my father. We never knew, but my mother
suspected later, too, for she took us :and ran away from him. He came after us. We
never knew what happened to mother. She went off one night for something and .never
came back, and we were reared by a family who took us in."
A board creaked in the hall, and both girls were suddenly still, listening.
Guns thundered from the street of the town, and both girls stared at each other,
holding their breath. There was a brief
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silence, then a further spattering of shots. Then the door opened very gently and
Dornie Shaw stood there facing the two girls.
He seemed startled at finding the girls together and looked from one to the other,
his brown eyes bright, but now confused.
Then he centered his eyes on Sue Laine. "You better get out," he said. "Keith's dead."
"Dead?" Sue gasped, horrified. "They--they killed him?" "No, I did. Up on the Salt.
He drew on me." "Keith----dead." Sue was shocked.
"What about the others? Where are they?" Connie asked quickly. Dornie turned his
head sharply around and looked hard at her, a curious, prying gaze as if he did not
quite know what to make of her. "Some of 'em dead," he said matter of factly. "They
whupped us. It was that Kedrick," he spoke without emotion or shadow of prejudice
as though he were completely indifferent. "He had 'em set for us an' they mowed us
down." He jerked his head toward the street. "I guess they are finishin' up now.
The Mixus boys an' Fessenden are down there."
"They'll be coming here," Connie said, with conviction. "This is the next place."
"I reckon." He seemed indifferent to that, too. "Kedrick'll be the first one. Maybe,"
he smiled, "the last one."
He dug out the makings, glancing around the room, then back at Sue. "You git out.
I want to talk to Connie."
Sue did not move. "You can talk to us both. I like it here."
As he touched his tongue to the paper his eyes lifted and met hers. They were flat,
expressionless. "You heard me," he said. "I'd hate to treat you rough."
"You haven't the nerve!" Sue flashed back. "You know what would happen to you if
you laid hands on a woman in this country! You can get away with killing me. But
this country won't stand for having their women bothered---even by a ratty little
killer like you!"
Connie Duane was remembering the derringer in her pocket, She lowered her hand to
her hip within easy grasp of the gun.
A sudden cannonade sounded, then a scattering of more shots. At that moment Kedrick
was finally shooting it out with Fessenden. Dornie Shaw cocked an inquisitive ear
toward the sound. "Gettin'
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 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTI'E
127
closer," he said. "I ain't really in no hurry until Kedrick gets here."
"You'd better be gone before he does come." Connie was surprised at the confidence
in her voice. "He's too much for you, and he's not half frightened like these others
are. He'll kill you, Dornie."
He stared at her, then chuckled without humor. "Him? Bah! The man doesn't live who
can outdraw Dornie Shaw. I've tried 'em all. Fess? He's supposed to be good, but
he don't fool with Dornie. I'd shoot his ears off."
Calmly, Connie dropped her right hand into her pocket and clutched the derringer.
The feel of it gave her confidence. "You had better go," she said quietly. "You were
not invited here, and we don't want you.'"
He did not move. "Still playin' it high an' mighty, are you? You've got to get over
that. Come on, you're coming with me."
"Are you leaving?" Connie's eyes flashed. "I'll not ask you again!"
Shaw started to speak, but whatever it was he planned to say never formed into words,
for Connie had her hand on the derringer, and she fired from her pocket. Ordinarily,
she was a good ishot, but had never fired the gun from that position. The first bullet
burned a furrow along Dornie Shaw's ear, notching it at the top. The second shot
stung him along the ribs and the third into the table beside him.
With a grunt of surprise, he dove through the door into the Sue was staring at Connie.
"Well, I never!" Her eyes dropped the tiny gun that Connie had now drawn from her
pocket. Shaw! And with that! Oh, just wait until this gets around!" laughter rang
out merrily, and despite herself, Connie was too.
Downstairs near the door, Dornie Shaw clutched his bloody He panted as though he
had been running, his face twisting he stared at his blood. Amazed, he scarcely noticed
when iKedrick came up the steps. But as the door pushed open, he saw him. For a fatal
instant, he froze. Then he grabbed for his gun,
he had lost his chance. In that split second of hesitation, Kedrick jumped. His right
hand grasped Dornie's gun wrist, and Kedrick swung the gunman bodily around, hurling
him into the
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Louis L'AMou8
wall. Shaw's body hit with a crash and he rebounded into a wicked right to the wind.
Shaw was no fighter with his hands, and the power of that blow would have wrecked
many a bigger man. As it was, it knocked every bit of wind from the gunman's body.
Kedrick shoved him back against the wall. "You asked me what I'd do, once, with a
faster man. Watch this, Dorniel"
Kedrick lifted his right hand and slapped the gunman across the mouth. Crying with
fury, Shaw fought against the bigger man's grip. Kedrick held him flat against the
wall, gripping him by the shirt collar, and slapped him over and back. "Just a cheap
killer!" Kedrick said calmly. "Somebody has already bled you a little. I'll do it
for good."
He dropped a hand to Dornie's shirt and ripped it wide. "I'm going to ruin you in
this country, Dornie. I'm going to show them what you arc cheap, yellow-bellied killer
who terrorizes men better than himself." He slapped Dornie again, then shoved him
into the wall once more and stepped back.
"All right, Shaw! You got your guns! Reach!"
Almost crying with fury, Dornie Shaw grabbed for his guns. As he whipped them free,
all his timing wrecked by the events of the past few minutes, Kedrick's gun crashed
and Shaw's right-hand gun was smashed from his hand. Shaw fired the left-hand gun
but the shot went wild. Kedrick lunged, chopping down with hi pistol barrel. The
blow smashed Dornie Shaw's wrist and hI dropped the gun with a yelp.
He fell back against the wall, trembling, and staring at hi hands. His left wrist
was broken; his right thumb was gone. Wher it had been, blood was welling.
Roughly, Kedrick grabbed him and shoved him out of the dooJ He stumbled and fell,
but Kedrick jerked him to his feet, ur mindful of the gasps of the onlookers, attracted
by the sounds, fighting. In the forefront of the crowd were Pit Laine, Dai Re and
Laredo Shad, blinking with astonishment at the sight of t} most feared gunman in
the country treated like a whipped chilc
Shaw's horse stood nearby, and Kedrick motioned to him. "G, on him--backwards!"
Shaw started to turn and Kedrick lifted his hand and the gu
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129
man ducked instinctively. "Get up there! Dai, when he's up tie his ankles together."
Dornie Shaw, befuddled by the whipping he had taken, scarcely aware of what was happening,
lifted his eyes. Then he saw the grulla tied near the stone house. It was the last
straw, his demoralization was complete.
Feared because of his deadly skill with guns and his love of killing for the sake
of killing, he had walked a path alone, either avoided by all, or catered to by them.
Never in his life had he been manhandled as he had by Tom Kedrick. His belief in
himself was shattered.
"Take him through the town." Kedrick's voice was harsh. "Show them what a killer
looks like. Then fix up that thumb and wrist and turn him loose."
"Turn him loose?" Shad demanded. "Are you crazy?"
"No, turn him loose. He'll leave this country so far behind nobody will ever see
him again. This is worse than death for him, believe me." He shrugged. "I've seen
them before. All they need, that kind, is for somebody to face them once who isn't
afraid. He was fast and accurate with his guns so he developed the idea he was tough.
"Other folks thought the same thing. He wasn't tough. A tough man has to win and
lose. He has to come up after being knocked down, he has to have taken a few beatings,
and know what it means to win the hard way.
"Anybody,' he said dryly, "can knock a man down. When you've been knocked down at
least three times yourself, and then got up and floored the other man, then you can
figure you're a tough hombre. Those smoke poles of Shaw's greased his path for him.
Now he knows what he's worth."
The crowd drifted away and Connie Duane was standing in the doorway. Tom Kedrick
looked up at her, and suddenly, he smiled. To see her now, standing like this in
the doorway, was like lifegiving rain upon the desert, coming in the wake of many
heat-filled days.
She came down the step to him, then looked past him at Pit. "Your sister's upstairs,
Pit. You'd better talk to her."
Laine hesitated; then he said stiffly, "I don't reckon I want to."
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Louis L'AMOUR
Laredo Shad drew deep on his cigarette and squinted through
the smoke at Laine. "Mind if I do?" he asked. "I like her."
Pit Laine was astonished. "After this?"
Shad looked at the fire end of his cigarette. "Well," he said, speaking seriously,
"the best cuttin' horse I ever rode was the hardest to break. Them with lots of git
up an' go to 'em often make the best stock."
"Then go ahead." Pit stared after him. Then he said, "Tell her I'll be along later."
134
 SIXTEEN
F
or three weeks there was no sign of Alton Burwick. He seemed to have vanished into
the earth, and riders around the country reported no sign of him.
At the end of that time three men got down from the afternoon stage and were shown
to rooms in the St. James. An hour later, while they were at dinner, Captain Tom
Kedrick pushed open the door and walked into the dining room. Instantly, one of the
men, a tall, immaculate young man whose hair was turning gray at the temples, rose
to meet him, hand outstretched. "Tom! Say, this is wonderful! Gentlemen, this is
Tom Kedrick, the man I was telling you about. We served together in the War Between
the States! Tom--Mr. Edgerton and Mr. Cummings."
The two men, one a pudgy man with a round, cheerful face, the other as tall as Frederic
Ransome and with gray muttonchop whiskers acknowledged the introduction. When Kedrick
had seated himself, they began demanding details. Quietly, and as concisely as possible,
he told them his own story, beginning with his joining the company in New Orleans.
"And Burwick's gone?" Edgerton asked. He was the older man with the muttonchop whiskers.
"Was he killed?"
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Louis L'AMOUR
"I doubt it, sir," Kedrick replied. "He simply vanished. The man had a faculty for
being out of the way when trouble came. Since he left, with the aid of Miss Duane
and her uncle's papers, we managed to put together most of the facts. However, Burwick's
papers have disappeared, or most of them."
"Disappeared?" Edgerton asked. "How did that happen?" "Miss Duane tells me that when
she entered the house before the final trouble with Shaw, she passed the office door
and the place was undisturbed and the desk all in order. After the crowd had gone
and when we returned, somebody had been riffling the desk and the safe."
"You imply that Burwick returned? That he was there then?" "He must have been. Connie---Miss
Duane--tells me that only he had the combination, and that he kept all the loose
ends of the business in his hands."
Cummings stared hard at Kedrick. "You say this, this Shaw fellow killed Keith? How
do we know that you didn't? You admit to killing Fessenden."
"I did kill him. In a fair fight before witnesses. I never even saw Keith's body
after he was killed."
"Who do you think killed John Gunter?" Cummings demanded. "My guess would be Burwick."
"I'm glad you're not accusing Keith of that," Cummings replied dryly.
"Keith wouldn't have used a knife," Kedrick replied quietly, "nor he wouldn't have
attacked him from behind as was obviously the case."
"This land deal, Kedrick," Ransome asked. "Where do you stand in it?"
"I? I don't stand at all. I'm simply not in it."
Cummings looked up sharply. "You don't stand to profit from it at all? Not in any
way?"
"How could I? I own nothing. I have no holdings, nor claim to any."
"You said Burwick promised you fifteen per cent?"
"That's right. But I know now that it was merely to appease me long enough to get
me on the spot at Chimney Butte where I was to be killed along with the others. Burwick
got me there,
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 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTIE
133
then rode off on the pretext that he wanted to look at a mineral ledge."
"How about this girl? The Duane girl?" Cummings asked sharply. "Does she stand to
profit?"
"She will be fortunate to get back her money that her uncle invested."
"See, Cummings?" Ransome said. "I told you Kedrick was hon.est. I know the man."
"I'll give my opinion on that later, after this investigation is completed. Not now.
I want to go over the ground and look into this matter thoroughly. I want to investigate
this matter of the disappearance of Alton Burwick, too. I'm not at all satisfied
with this situation."
He glanced down at the notes in his hand, then looked up. "As to that, Kedrick, wasn't
Fessenden a duly elected officer of the law when you shot him? Wasn't he the sheriff?."
"Elected by a kangaroo election," Kedrick replied, "where the votes were counted
by the two officials who won. If that is a legal election, then he was sheriff."
"I see. But you do not deny that he had authority?"
"I do deny it."
Connie Duane was awaiting him when he walked back to his table. She smiled as he
sat down and listened to his explanation. She frowned thoughtfully. "Cummings? I
think there is something in Uncle John's papers about him. I believe he was acting
for them in Washington."
"That explains a lot then." Kedrick picked up his coffee cup, then put it down abruptly,
for Laredo Shad had come into the room, his face sharp and serious. He glanced around,
and sighting Kedrick, hurried toward him, spurs jingling. Kedrick got to his feet.
"What's wrong? What's happened?"
"Plenty! Sloan was wounded last night and Yellow Butte burned!" "What?" Kedrick stared.
Shad nodded grimly. "You shouldn't have turned that rat loose. That Dornie Shaw."
Kedrick shook his head irritably. "I don't believe it. He was
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Louis L'AMOUR
thoroughly whipped when he left here. I think he ran like a scared rabbit when he
left. If he did want revenge, it would be
after a few months, not so soon. No, this is somebody else." "Who could it be?"
His eyes met Connie's and she nodded, her eyes frightened. "You know who it could
be, Tom. It could be Burwick."
Of course, that was what he had been thinking. Burwick had bothered him, getting
away scot-free, dropping off the end of the world into oblivion as he had. Remembering
the malignant look in the man's eyes, Kedrick was even more positive. Burwick had
counted on this land deal; he had worked on it longer than any one of them, and it
meant more to him.
"Shad," he said suddenly, "where does that grulla tie in? It keeps turning up, again
and again. There's something more about all this than we've ever known, something
that goes a lot deeper. Who rides the grulla? Why is it he has never been seen? Why
was Dornie so afraid of it?"
"Was he afraid of the grulla?" Shad asked, frowning. "That doesn't figure."
"Why doesn't it? That's the question now. You know, that last day when I had Shaw
thoroughly whipped, he looked up and saw something that scared him, yet something
that I think he more than half expected. After he was gone down the street, I looked
around, and there was nothing there. Later, I stumbled across the tracks of the grulla
mustang. That horse was in front of the house during all the excitement!"
Frederic Ransome came into the room again and walked to their table. "Cummings is
going to stir up trouble," he said, dropping into a chair. "He's out to get you,
Kedrick, and if he can pin the killing of Keith on you, or that of Burwick . . .
He claims your story is an elaborate build-up to cover the murder of all three of
the company partners. He can make so much trouble that none of the squatters will
get anything out of the land, and nothing for all their work. We've got to find Burwick."
Laredo lit a cigarette. "That's a tough one," he said, "but maybe I've got a hunch."
"What?" Kedrick looked up.
"Ever hear Burwick talk about the grulla?"
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135
"No, I can't say that I did. It was mentioned before him once that I recall, and
he didn't seem interested."
"Maybe he wasn't interested because he knowed all about it," Shad suggested. "That
Burwick has me puzzled."
Connie looked up at him. "You may be right, Laredo, but Pit and Sue Laine were Burwick's
stepchildren and they knew nothing about the horse. The only one who seemed to know
anything was Dornie Shaw."
Tom Kedrick got up. "Well, there's one thing we can do," he said. "Laredo, we can
scout out the tracks of that horse and trail it down. Pick up an old trail, anything.
Then just see where it takes
US."
On the third day it began to rain. All week the wind had been chill and cold and
clouds had hung low and fiat across the sky from horizon to horizon. Hunched in his
slicker, Laredo slapped his gloved hands together and swore. "This finishes it!"
he said with disgust. "It will wipe out all the trails for us!"
"All old anyway," Kedrick agreed. "We've followed a dozen here lately, and none of
them took us anywhere. All disappeared on rock or were swept away by wind."
"Escavada's cabin isn't far up this canyon," Shad suggested. "Let's hit him up for
chow. It will be a chance to get warm, anyway."
"Know him?"
"Stopped in there once. He's half Spanish, half Ute. Tough old blister, an' been
in this country since before the grass came. He might be able to tell us something."
The trail into the canyon was slippery and the dull red of the rocks had turned black
under the downpour. The rain slanted across the sky in drenching sheets. By the time
they reached the stone cabin in the corner of the hills both men and horses were
cold, wet and hungry.
Escavada opened the door for them and waved them in. He grinned at them. "Glad to
have company," he said. "Ain't seen a man for three weeks."
When they had stripped off their slickers and peeled down to
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Louis L'AMOUR
shirts, pants and boots, he put coffee before them and laced it with a strong shot
of whisky. "Warm you up," he said. "Trust you ain't goin' out again soon. Whisky's
mighty fine when a body comes in from the cold, but not if he's goin' out again.
It flushes the skin up, fetches all the heat to the surface, then gives it off into
the air. Man freezes mighty quick, drinkin' whisky."
"You ever see a grulla mustang around, Escavada?" Laredo asked suddenly, looking
up at the old man.
He turned on them, his eyes bright with malicious humor. "You ain't some of them
superstitious kind, be you? Skeered o' the dark like? An' ghosts?"
"No," Kedrick said, "but what's the tie-up?"
"That grulla. Old story in this here country. Dates back thirty, forty years. Maybe
further'n that. Sign of death or misfortune, folks say."
Laredo looked inquiringly at Kedrick, and Kedrick asked, "You know anything about
it? That horse is real enough. We've both seen the grulla."
"So've I," the old man said. He dropped into a chair and grinned at them. His gray
hair was sparse, but his eyes were alive and young. "I seen it many times, an' no
misfortune come my way. Not unless you call losin' my shovel a misfortune."
He hitched his chair nearer the woodpile and tossed a couple of sticks on the fire.
"First I heerd of it was long ago. Old folks used to tell of a Spanish man in armor
ridin' a mouse-colored horse. He used to come an' go about the hills, but the story
back of it seems to be that a long time back some such feller was mighty cruel to
the Injuns. That story sort of hung around an' a body heerd it ever' now and again
until about fifteen, sixteen years back. Since then she's been mighty lively."
"You mean, you heard the story more since then?" Kedrick asked.
"Uh huh. Started with a wagon train wiped out by Injuns up on the Salt. Ever' man
jack o' them kilt dead women folks, too, the story was. There was a youngster come
off scot-free, boy about five or six years old. He crawled off into the brush, an'
after, he swore them Injuns was led by a white man on a grulla horse, a white man
in armor!"
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 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTrE
137
"Wild yarn," Shad said, "but you can't blame the kid, imaginin' things after what
he must've seen."
"He said that hombre in the armor went around with a long knife, an' he skewered
ever' one of the bodies to make sure they was real dead. He said once that hombre
looked right square at him, layin' in the brush. He was skeered like all git out,
but must've been he wasn't seen, 'cause he wasn't bothered."
"An' this grulla has been seen since?" Shad asked. "Reg'lar?" "Uh huh, but never
no rider clost enough to say who or what. Sometimes off at a distance, sometimes
just the horse, standin'. Most folks git clear off when they see that horse."
He got up and brought back the coffee pot. "Right odd you should ast me about him
now," he commented. "Right odd."
Both men looked at him, and sensing their acute interest, he continued. "Been huntin'
here lately. Some days back I ketched me a few bees off the cactus an' mesquite,
figurin' to start a bee line. Well, I got her started, all right, an' I trailed them
bees to a place far south o' here.
"South an' west, actually. Most o' this country hereabouts is worked out of bees.
I been at it too long, so I was workin' a good ways off. Well, my bee line took me
over toward the Hogback. You know that place?
"She's a high curvin' ridge maybe five or six hundred feet at the crest, but she
rises mighty close to straight up for four hundred feet. Crawlin' up there to locate
the cave them bees was workin' out of, I come on a cave like a cliff dwellin', on'y
it wasn't. She was man-made, an' most likely in the past twenty years or so.
"What started me really lookin' was my shovel--the one I lost. She was right there
on that ledge, so I knowed it hadn't been lost, but stole off me. I began huntin'
around. I found back inside this place it was all fixed up for livin'. Some grub
there, blankets, a couple of guns, an' under some duffle in the corner, an old-time
breastplate an' helmet."
"You're serious?" Kedrick demanded incredulously.
"Sure as I'm alive! But," Escavada chuckled, "that ain't the best of it. Lyin' there
on the floor, deader'n last year's hopes, was a young feller. He had a knife, old-time
Spanish knife that a feller
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Louis L'AMOUR
in armor might have carried, an' it was skewered right th'ough him!"
"A young man----dead?" Kedrick suddenly leaned forward. "Anything odd about him?
I mean, was he missing a thumb?"
Eseavada stared. "Well now, if that don't beat all! He was missin' a thumb, an' he
was crippled up mighty bad in the other arm. Carried her in a sling."
"Dornie Shaw!" Laredo leaped to his feet. "Dornie Shaw, by all that's holy!"
"Shaw.9" Eseavada puckered his brows, his old eyes gleaming. "Now that's most odd,
most odd. Shaw was the name o' that boy, the one who didn't git killed with the wagon
train!"
Kedriek's face was a study. Dornie Shaw--dead! But if Dornie had been the boy from
the wagon train, that would account for his superstitious fear of the grulla mustang.
But to suppose that after all these years Dornie had been killed by the same man,
or ghost if one believed in ghosts, that killed the rest of them so many years before
was too ridiculous. It was, he thought suddenly, unless you look at it just one way.
"Man can't escape his fate," Eseavada said gloomily. "That boy hid out from that
knife, but in the end it got him."
Kedriek got up. "Could you take us to that place, Eseavada? Down there on the Hogback?"
"I reckon." He glanced outside. "But not in this rain. Rheumatiz gits me."
"Then tell me where it is," Kedriek said, "because I'm going
now!"
They were crossing the head of Coal Mine Creek when Laredo saw the tracks. He drew
up suddenly, pointing. The tracks of a horse, well shod. "The grulla!" Kedrick said
grimly. "I'd know those tracks anywhere!"
They pushed on. It was very late, and the pelting rain still poured down upon their
heads and shoulders. The trails were slippery, and dusk was near. "We'd better find
us a hole to crawl into," Shad suggested. "We'll never find that horse in this weather!"
"By morning the tracks will be gone, and I've a hunch we'll
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 SHOWDOWN AT YELLOW BUTI'E
139
find our man right in that cliff dwelling where Escavada saw Dornie's body!"
"Wonder how Dornie found the place?"
"If what I think is right," Kedrick replied, wiping the rain from his face, "he must
have run into an old friend and been taken there to hide out. That old friend was
the same rider of the grulla that killed his family and friends with the wagon train,
and when he saw that armor, he knew it."
"But what's it all about?" Shad grumbled. "It don't make sense! An' no horse lives
that long."
"Sure not. There may have been a half-dozen grullas in that length of time. This
man probably tried to capitalize on the fears of the Indians and Mexicans who live
up that way to keep them off his trail. We'll probably find the answer when we reach
the end of our ride."
The Hogback loomed black and ominous before them. The trail, partly switchback and
part sheer climb, led over the sharp, knife-like ridge. They mounted, their horses
laboring heavily at the steep and slippery climb. Twice Tom Kedrick saw the tracks
of the grulla on the trail, and in neither case could those tracks have been more
than an hour old.
Kedrick glanced down when they saw the opposite side, then dismounted. "This one
is tricky," he said grimly. "We'd better walk it."
Halfway down, lightning flashed, and in the momentary brightness, Laredo called out,
"Watch it, Tom! High, right!"
Kedrick's head jerked around just as the rifle boomed. The bullet smacked viciously
against the rock beside him, spattering his face with splinters. He grabbed for his
gun, but it was under his slicker. The gun boomed again, five fast shots, as fast
as the marksman could work the lever of his rifle.
Behind Tom Kedrick the anguished scream of a wounded horse cut the night, and Shad's
warning yell was drowned in the boom of the gun again. Then he flattened against
the rock barely in time to avoid the plunging, screaming horse.
His own appaloosa, frightened, darted down the trail with the agility of a mountain
goat. The rifle boomed again and Kedrick dropped fiat.
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Louis L'AMour
"Shad? You all right?"
There was a monaent before the reply, then it was hoarse, but calm. "Winged me, but
not bad."
"I'm going after him. You all right?"
"Yeah. You might help me wrap this leg up."
Sheltered by the glistening, rain-wet rock, with gray mist swirling past them on
the high ridge of the Hogback, Kedrick knelt in the rain. Shielding the bandage from
the rain with a slicker, he bound the leg. The bullet had torn through the flesh,
but the bone was not broken.
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 SEVENTEEN
W
hen the wound was bandaged, Kedrick drew back into the shelter of the slight overhang
and stared about. Ahead and below them was a sea of inky blackness. Somewhere down
that mountain would be their horses, one probably dead or dying, the other possibly
crippled.
Around them all was night and the high, windy, rain-wet rocks. And out there in the
darkness a killer stalked them--a killer, who could at all of three hundred yards,
spot his shots so well as to score two hits on a target seen only by a brief flash
of lightning. Next time those shots could kill. And there was no doubt about it.
Now the situation was clear. It was kill or be killed.
"Sure," Laredo said dryly, "you got to get him, man. But you watch it. He's no slouch
with that Spencer!"
"You've got to get off this ridge," Kedrick insisted, "the cold and rain up here
will kill you!"
"You leave that to me," Shad replied shortly. "I'll drag myself down the trail an'
find a hole to crawl into down on the fiat below " this Hogback. Might even find
your palouse down there. You got grub an' coffee in those saddle bags?"
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"Yeah, but you'd better not try a fire until I come back."
Shad chuckled. "Make sure you come back. I never did like to eat alone."
Slipping his hands under his slicker through the pockets, Tom gripped his guns. His
rifle, of course, was in his saddle scabbard. He was going to have to stalk a skilled
killer--a fine marksman who was on his own ground--in absolute darkness with a hand
gun. And the killer had a Spencer .56!
Lightning flashed, but there was no more shooting. Somewhere out there the killer
was stalking them. He would not give up now, nor retreat. This, for him, was a last
stand unless he killed them both. His hideout now was known, and if they escaped
he would no longer be safe. That he did not intend to be driven from the country
was already obvious by the fact that he had stayed this long.
Kedrick crawled out, using a bush to cover his movement. Working along the windy
top of the ridge, he moved toward a nest of boulders he had seen ahead of him by
the lightning flash. The wind whipped at his hat and flapped the skirt of his slicker.
His right-hand gun was drawn, but under the slicker.
He crawled on. Lightning flashed and he flattened out on the rocks. But the Spencer
bellowed, the bullet smashing his eyes and mouth full of gravel. Rolling over, he
held his fire, spitting and pawing desperately at his blinded eyes.
There was no sound but the wind and rain. Then in the distance, thunder roared and
rumbled off among the peaks. When the lightning flashed again, he looked out along
the high ridge of the Hogback. Lashed by the driving rain, its rocks glistened like
steel under clouds that seemed a scarce arm's length above Kedrick's head. Mist drifted
by him, touching his wet face with a ghostly hand, and the weird white skeletons
of long dead pines pointed their sharp and bony fingers toward the sky.
Rain pelted against his face, and he cowered, fearing the strike of a bullet at each
flash of lightning, smelling the brimstone as the lightning scarred the high ridge
with darting flame. He touched his lips with his tongue and stared until his eyes
ached with strain.
His mouth was dry and his stomach empty, and something
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143
mounted within him. Fear? Panic? He could stay still no longer. With infinite patience,
he edged forward, working his way a little over the edge of the ridge toward the
hulking black clumps of some juniper, ragged trees, whipped to agonized shapes by
generations of wind.
There was no sound but the storm, no sight of anything. He moved on, trying to estimate
how far away the cliff house would be, to guess if he could reach it first or get
between it and the killer out there. Flame stabbed the night and something burned
sharply along his shoulders. He let go everything and rolled, went crashing down
a dozen feet before he brought up in a tangle of dead limbs.
But the killer was not waiting. Suddenly he loomed dark on the crest. Crouching like
a hunted animal, every instinct alert, Kedrick fired.
The dark figure jerked hard, and then the Spencer bellowed. The bullet plastered
a branch near Kedrick, and he knew that only his own shot had saved his life. He
fired again, and then deliberately hurled himself backward into the night, falling,
landing, crawling. He got to his feet and plunged into the absolute darkness, risking
a broken limb or a bad fall---anything to get the distance he needed. Then lightning
flashed, and as if by magic the Spencer boomed. How the man had followed his plunging
career he could not know, but he felt the stab and slam of the bullets as they smashed
about him. This man was shooting too close. He couldn't miss long!
His shoulders burned, but whether that shot had been a real wound or a mere graze
he did not know. Something fluid trickled down his spine. But whether it was rain
water through the slit coat or his own blood, he could not guess.
He moved back, circling. Another shot, but this slightly to his left. Quickly he
moved left and a shot smacked right near where he had been standing. The killer was
using searching fire now, and he was getting closer.
Kedrick moved back, tripped and fell, and bullets laced the air over him. Evidently
the man had a belt full of ammunition, or his pockets were stuffed.
Kedrick started to rise. This time his fingers found the hard
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smoothness not of rock, but of earth and gravel. Carefully, he felt about in the
darkness.
The path! He was on a path, and no doubt the path to the cliff house.
He began to move along it, feeling his way carefully. Once, off to his left, he heard
a rock roll. He took a chance and fired blind, then rolled over three times and felt
the air split apart as the shots slammed the ground where he had been. He fired again,
then again, always moving.
Lightning flashed, and he saw a hulking thing back on the trail the way he had come,
a huge, glistening thing, black and shining. Flame sprang from it, and he felt the
shock of the bullet, then steadied himself and fired again.
Deliberately then, he turned and worked his way down the path. Suddenly, he felt
space before him, and found the path here took a sharp turn. Another step and he
might have plunged of . How near was his escape he knew in another instant when lightning
flashed and he saw far below him the gray-white figure of the appaloosa standing
in the rain.
He worked his way down the cliff, then found a ledge and in a moment, his hands found
the crude stone bricks of the cliff house. Feeling his way along it, he felt for
the door, and then pushing it open he crawled into the inner darkness and pushed
the door shut behind him.
After the lashing of wind and rain the peace seemed a miracle. Jerking off his soaking
hat he tossed it aside, and threw off the slicker. There was a chance the killer
would not guess that he knew of this place. Undoubtedly had Kedrick not known of
it he would have passed it by in the darkness and storm.
Working his way along the floor he found a curtain dividing the first chamber from
an inner room. He stepped through it and sat down hard on the bunk. Feeling for his
left-hand gun he found the holster empty, and he had fired five shots with his right
gun. Suddenly, the curtain stirred and there was a breath of wind. Then it vanished.
The killer was in the other room. He had come in.
Kedrick dared not rise for fear the bed would creak. He heard a match strike, and
then a candle was lighted. Feet shuffled in the
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other room. Then a voice. "I know you're in there, Kedrick. There's water on the
floor in here. I'm behind a piece of old stone wall that I use for a sort of table.
I'm safe from your fire. I know there's no protection where you are. Throw your guns
out and come with your hands up! If you don't, I'm going to open fire an' search
every inch of that room!"
Over the top of the blanket curtain which was suspended from a pole across the door,
Tom Kedrick could see the roof in the other room. The cave house was actually much
higher than need be. Evidently the killer had walled up an overhang or cave. Kedrick
could see several heavy cedar beams that had served to support a ceiling now mostly
gone. If that was true in the other room, it might be true in his also.
He straightened to his feet. He heard a sudden move and then fired.
From the other room came a chuckle. "Figured that would draw fire! Well, one gun's
empty. Now toss out the other an' come out. You haven't a chance!"
Kedrick did not reply. He was reaching up into the darkness over his head, feeling
for the beams. He touched one, barely touched it, then reached up with both hands.
He judged the distance he had to jump by the width of the beams in the other room.
What if it were old and would not support his weight? He had to chance that.
He jumped, his fingers hooked well over the edge and, soundlessly, he .drew himself
up. Now, Kedrick could see into the lighted room, but he could not locate the killer.
The voice spoke again. "I'm giving you no more time, Kedrick. Come out or I start
to shoot! Toss that other gun first!"
Silence lay in the room, a silence broken by the sudden bellow of a gun. The killer
fired, emptied a six-gun, then emptied another. Tom Kedrick waited, having no idea
how many guns the man had, or what he might have planned for. Then six more carefully
spaced shots were fired. One of them ricocheting dangerously close to Kedrick's head.
A long pause, and then a sound of movement. "All right, if " you're alive in there
now, you got a shot comin' but if you want to give up, you can. I sort of want you
alive."
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Suddenly the blanket was jerked from its moorings and Alton Burwick stood in the
opening, a gun gripped in his fist, ready to
fire.
Kedrick made no sound, and the man stared, then rushed into the room. Almost whining
with fury, he jerked Kedrick's hat from the bed, then the slicker. As the latter
fell to the floor, with it fell Kedrick's other pistol, which falling from the holster
had hooked into some tear in the slicker. He stared at it furiously, and then jerked
the bed aside. Almost insane with anger, he searched, unbelieving and whining like
an angry hound on a trail.
He stopped, his pent-up fury worn away and stood there, his chest heaving with his
exertions, his fist still gripping the pistol. "Gone! Gone!" he cried, as if bereft.
"When I had him right here!"
Kedrick's fingers had found a tiny sliver of wood, and, deliberately, he snapped
it against Burwick's cheek. The fat man jerked as if stung, then looked up. Their
eyes met, and slowly he backed away, but now he was smiling. "Oh, you're a smart
one, Kedrick. Very smart! Too bad it couldn't have been you with me instead of that
weakling Keith. All front and show, but no bottom to him, no staying quality!
"But," he sighed, "I've got you anyway, and you'll suffer for what you've done."
He scooped Kedrick's other pistol from the floor and backed away. "All right, get
down!"
Kedrick dropped to the floor, and the fat man waved irritably at the gun he clutched.
"No use to bluff. That's empty. Throw it down!"
"What's it all about, Burwick?" Tom asked suddenly. "Why this place? The armor? What
about Dornie Shaw?"
"Ah? How did you know about that? But no matter, no matter." He backed to the wall,
watching Kedrick and holding the gun. "Why, it was gold, boy! Gold, and lots of it!
It was I who stirred those Indians up to attacking that caravan! I wanted the gold
they carried, and most of it belonging to Dornie's pal!
"I knew about it! Followed them from Dodge. Knew when they drew it from the bank
there, and how much!
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"They fooled me though. When the Indians hit, they'd buried it somewhere. It could
have been a lot of places, that was the trouble. They might have buried it sooner,
but somewhere along the trail. I've dug and I've hunted, but I've never found it.
Maybe I will someday--but nobody else is going to!
"Wondered why I wanted the land? Profit, sure! But I wanted this piece, a couple
of sections in here, all for myself. Figured on that, working it out somehow. The
gold's somewhere between here and Thieving Rock. Has to be."
Kedrick nodded. "That clears up a lot of things. Now you drop that gun, Burwick,
and come as my prisoner."
Burwick chuckled fatly. "Try to bluff me? I'd of expected that : from you! Nervy
one, huh? Bet you got that Connie Duane, too! By the Lord Harry, there's a woman!
No scare to her. Not one bit! Drop your gun, boy, or I'll put my first bullet through
your kneecap!"
He was going to shoot, and Tom Kedrick knew it. Coolly, he squeezed off his own shot,
an instant faster. He shot for the gun hand, but the bullet only skinned the thumb
knuckle and hit Burwick in the side.
The fat man jerked and his face twisted, and he stared at the gun, lifting his own.
Coolly, Kedrick fired again, then again. The bullets struck with an ugly smack, and
Burwick wilted, the gun going from his limp fingers to the floor. Kedrick stepped
in and caught him, easing him down. The flabby cheeks were suddenly sagging and old.
Bitterly, the man stared upward at him. "What happened? That--that--?"
"The gun was a Walch twelve-shot Navy pistol," Tom explained. "I started carrying
them a few days ago, replacing the. 44 Russians."
Burwick stared at him, no hatred in his eyes. "Smart!" he said. "Smart! Always one
trick better than me, or anybody! You'lldo, boy!"
On the streets of Mustang the sun was warm after the rain. Tom Kedrick, wounded again
but walking, stood beside Connie Duane. Shad was grinning at them. "Look mighty fine
in that tailored suit, Tom. You goin' to be gone long?"
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"Not us! We'll be married in Santa Fe, and then we're headin' for the Mogollons and
that ranch."
"Seems a shame not to hunt for that gold," Laredo complained. "But anyway, the real
treasure was that box full of Burwick's papers. Sure made Cummings hunt his hole.
But I do regret that gold."
"I don't," Connie replied, "it's caused too much trouble. Alton Burwick spent his
life and a good many other lives after it. Let it stay where it is. Maybe a better
man will find it, one who needs it more than we do."
"Gosh!" Laredo said suddenly. "I got to light a shuck! I'm late to meet Sue! So long,
then!" They watched him go, waiting for the stage.
Everything was quiet in Mustang--three whole days without a killing.