night.”
“No,” Tetlow agreed, “he won’t sell. He won’t have to. His place has been let go.”
“Let go?” Carpenter was stunned. His eyes went from one to the other. Behind him he heard a sound inside the house, and he knew that sound. His wife was taking the scatter gun off the nails on the wall.
“Yeah, Carson won’t be around any more. Cantankerous ol’ cuss got right mean when we offered to buy him out. He grabbed for a gun. Well, what could we do?”
Carpenter looked at them, from one cold face to the other. “I see,” he said slowly. “And if I don’t sell? What happens then?”
Tetlow’s horse stepped forward. “You’ll sell,” he said coldly. “What have you got here?” he sneered. “A little one-horse spread! Why, I’ve got thousands of cattle! I need all this range! You’ll just putter along an’ waste it! I’ll put it to good use. I’ll give you a thousand dollars an’ you can keep your buckboard an’ a team to fetch you an’ your wife away from here.”
“Free,” the woman’s voice spoke from the window of the cabin, “don’t bother to talk to ’em any more. We got to strain that milk. Come on inside.”
“You stay where you are!” Tetlow shouted, growing angry. “I ain’t through with you!”
“You’re through here,” the woman’s voice was cold, “this here’s a Colt revolvin’ scatter gun. She will fire four times. I reckon that’s enough for all of you. Now ride off! You lift a hand to my man an’ I’ll start shootin!”
Jared Tetlow stiffened, his face flooding with angry blood. “Easy, Dad!” It was Ben who spoke. “She means it.”
“That’s right,” Havalik added, “she ain’t foolin’ an’ at this range she could kill us all.”
Tetlow cooled. That was right, of course. Anyway, they had done enough killing for one day. “All right!” he said crisply. “We’re ridin’! But you make up your minds! We want this place!”
Wheeling, they rode away from the Carpenter place and back toward their own camp. “Dad,” Ben interposed, “we’d better sit quiet until we see how the sheriff takes this Carson affair.”
Tetlow snorted. “You saw him in the street! The man’s gun-handy, all right, but we can talk to him! I know how to handle that sort!”
“That wasn’t the sheriff, though,” Ben persisted.
“Wasn’t the sheriff?” Tetlow was growing angrier by the minute. Why did this son of his have to—“What do you mean? He wasn’t the sheriff? You saw his badge, didn’t you?”
“He was the town marshal, Dad. Not the sheriff. I hear the sheriff is a different sort, a very different sort.”
Jared Tetlow scowled, but suddenly he was worried. Lott not the sheriff! He had taken for granted once he had seen the man that there was no need to worry. If the man couldn’t be frightened he could be bought. Or enlisted.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded. “You talk enough!”
“I started to tell you once, an’ you wouldn’t listen,” Ben replied. “You never listen to me, an’ it’s time you did.”
His father stared at him in amazement. “Since when did I take orders from a milk sop?” he demanded. “You keep a still tongue in your head! I can make up my own mind!”
“All right,” Ben replied shortly, “see if you can make up the sheriff’s!” Wheeling his horse he rode rapidly off through the junipers. Jared Tetlow stared after him, scowling, his face black with the anger that always mounted quickly at any suggestion of resistance among his own people.
Nobody said anything, and the hands did not look at each other. They pushed on, riding swiftly toward the headquarters wagons.
Ben drew up when he was safely away from the cavalcade and watched them go. Where was all this going to lead? Did his father think everybody would cringe before him? That he could rule everyone with whom he came in contact? And that Dee Havalik! The man gave Ben the creeps.
Turning his sorrel, he rode on into town
“No,” Tetlow agreed, “he won’t sell. He won’t have to. His place has been let go.”
“Let go?” Carpenter was stunned. His eyes went from one to the other. Behind him he heard a sound inside the house, and he knew that sound. His wife was taking the scatter gun off the nails on the wall.
“Yeah, Carson won’t be around any more. Cantankerous ol’ cuss got right mean when we offered to buy him out. He grabbed for a gun. Well, what could we do?”
Carpenter looked at them, from one cold face to the other. “I see,” he said slowly. “And if I don’t sell? What happens then?”
Tetlow’s horse stepped forward. “You’ll sell,” he said coldly. “What have you got here?” he sneered. “A little one-horse spread! Why, I’ve got thousands of cattle! I need all this range! You’ll just putter along an’ waste it! I’ll put it to good use. I’ll give you a thousand dollars an’ you can keep your buckboard an’ a team to fetch you an’ your wife away from here.”
“Free,” the woman’s voice spoke from the window of the cabin, “don’t bother to talk to ’em any more. We got to strain that milk. Come on inside.”
“You stay where you are!” Tetlow shouted, growing angry. “I ain’t through with you!”
“You’re through here,” the woman’s voice was cold, “this here’s a Colt revolvin’ scatter gun. She will fire four times. I reckon that’s enough for all of you. Now ride off! You lift a hand to my man an’ I’ll start shootin!”
Jared Tetlow stiffened, his face flooding with angry blood. “Easy, Dad!” It was Ben who spoke. “She means it.”
“That’s right,” Havalik added, “she ain’t foolin’ an’ at this range she could kill us all.”
Tetlow cooled. That was right, of course. Anyway, they had done enough killing for one day. “All right!” he said crisply. “We’re ridin’! But you make up your minds! We want this place!”
Wheeling, they rode away from the Carpenter place and back toward their own camp. “Dad,” Ben interposed, “we’d better sit quiet until we see how the sheriff takes this Carson affair.”
Tetlow snorted. “You saw him in the street! The man’s gun-handy, all right, but we can talk to him! I know how to handle that sort!”
“That wasn’t the sheriff, though,” Ben persisted.
“Wasn’t the sheriff?” Tetlow was growing angrier by the minute. Why did this son of his have to—“What do you mean? He wasn’t the sheriff? You saw his badge, didn’t you?”
“He was the town marshal, Dad. Not the sheriff. I hear the sheriff is a different sort, a very different sort.”
Jared Tetlow scowled, but suddenly he was worried. Lott not the sheriff! He had taken for granted once he had seen the man that there was no need to worry. If the man couldn’t be frightened he could be bought. Or enlisted.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded. “You talk enough!”
“I started to tell you once, an’ you wouldn’t listen,” Ben replied. “You never listen to me, an’ it’s time you did.”
His father stared at him in amazement. “Since when did I take orders from a milk sop?” he demanded. “You keep a still tongue in your head! I can make up my own mind!”
“All right,” Ben replied shortly, “see if you can make up the sheriff’s!” Wheeling his horse he rode rapidly off through the junipers. Jared Tetlow stared after him, scowling, his face black with the anger that always mounted quickly at any suggestion of resistance among his own people.
Nobody said anything, and the hands did not look at each other. They pushed on, riding swiftly toward the headquarters wagons.
Ben drew up when he was safely away from the cavalcade and watched them go. Where was all this going to lead? Did his father think everybody would cringe before him? That he could rule everyone with whom he came in contact? And that Dee Havalik! The man gave Ben the creeps.
Turning his sorrel, he rode on into town
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