Marauders' Moon Read online

  Martha said, “Yes.”

  “But he hadn’t come over the mountains then. He’d been a week at Bannister’s Dollar spread. Hugo Meeker found him starvin’ to death at a dry water hole the other side of the mountains and brought him home. Mitch was runnin’ from somethin’. I don’t know what. But Bannister hit on the idea of sendin’ him over to one of your line camps, hopin’ you’d take him in. He was so weak Hugo had to pack him within a hundred yards of the shack. Your men took him in, didn’t they?”

  Tolleston glanced obliquely at Martha and then looked steadily at Webb.

  “That’s partly right,” he said. “About finding Mitch. But Mitch was killed, fightin’ for me. He was no traitor.”

  “Where is he?” Webb drawled.

  “Dead. With plenty other good men!”

  “I talked to him this mornin’,” Webb said dryly. “He’s been at the Dollar since the night of the raid. He’s the man who sold you out. When you sent him down to see if those hardcases were in Bull Foot, he rode to Bannister and told him what you’d planned. Bannister set his trap—warned the storekeepers and townspeople in Bull Foot that the raid was comin’.”

  “That’s a lie!” Buck said. “Mitch never left my side!”

  “Is it?” Webb drawled. “All right. Mitch walked out of the cattleman’s meeting and wrote a letter to the station agent in Bull Foot, enclosing a letter to Bannister. That letter told Bannister how many men to expect, what time they were comin’, who would be ridin’, and how they would do it.”

  Tolleston had his mouth open to reply in furious rebuttal when he thought of the afternoon of that meeting. Mitch had told him he was going to write a letter. Buck never saw the letter to confirm the address, but the fact remained, Mitch did write a letter. He only said, “Go on.”

  “One moment,” Martha put in. “How do you know all this?”

  “Mitch told me,” Webb said calmly. “He told me a lot of things. Would you like to hear them?”

  “If you say he’s a traitor,” Martha insisted hotly, “how would we know the truth of them? Why did he tell you? How did—”

  “Do you want to hear them?” Webb cut in calmly. “I don’t know if they’re true. But I know if they are true, then you and your dad won’t have a penny to your name two months from now.”

  Buck said, “Get on with it. What lies did he tell you?”

  “He told me this,” Webb said. “The agents for the Southwestern Railroad will be in Wagon Mound in another month, buying right of way for the line they’re going to extend to Wagon Mou—”

  Buck Tolleston was out of his seat, and facing Webb. “You damn fool, do you know what you’re sayin’?” he asked huskily.

  Martha said rapidly, “How do you know? How do you know?”

  Webb looked around him. All these men were on their feet, waiting for his answer. “I know from Mitch. Mitch knew from Bannister. The railroad has already written him about grading teams. They’ve named the date their agents are comin’.”

  “Why haven’t they written us?” Buck whipped out.

  “They did. Hugo Meeker stuck up the mail stage and got their letter to you.”

  Buck looked swiftly at Charley. That much, unbelievable as it was, rang true, for the stage had been held up, and the sacks strangely returned to it.

  Chuck Martin said to Webb, “What good will that do Bannister, stealing the letter? It ain’t goin’ to keep the railroad out.”

  “Mitch told me why,” Webb said quietly.

  “Why?”

  Webb talked straight at Tolleston. “Because Bannister wants time. He planned this raid on Wagon Mound and San Patricio to get these ranchers discouraged. He knew some of them would want to sell, but he knew they wouldn’t sell if the railroad was comin’ in.”

  “They’ll find out sooner or later if it’s true,” Buck said swiftly. “What’s time got to do about it?”

  “Because he wants Lou Hasker’s Chain Link,” Webb said slowly. “He figures Hasker will sell. He—”

  “Not to him,” Martin said.

  “No. To his buyer.” Webb raised a hand. “Let me finish. Bannister has got these ranchers in the frame of mind he wants them. They’re whipped. Some want to pull out. They don’t know about the railroad, and he doesn’t want them to. He’s got one of his men on the way to Wagon Mound right now. That man is going to Buy Lou Hasker’s Chain Link if he can get it. He is—”

  “Why the Chain Link?” Buck cut in.

  “Because where the Copperstone comes out of the Chain Link Basin into the canyon there’s a natural place for a dam. He’ll get it by dynamiting the cliff walls down. That’ll back up the Copperstone until it takes off down a draw into Roan Creek. Once that’s done, you men will whistle for water. And it doesn’t matter then if the railroad is at your door. Without water you can’t raise cattle to ship.” He looked from Tolleston to Martin to Martha. “Does that make sense?”

  “You said something about a buyer,” Buck said. “What buyer?”

  “Clay Bogardus is his name. He’s backed by Bannister’s money and the minute he gets the deed to the Chain Link, he’ll turn it over to Bannister.”

  Buck stood utterly still, trying to absorb all this. Martin watched him, waiting for a sign of his belief.

  Martha said softly, “Dad, do you hear? Do you know what it means?”

  Buck turned away and walked over and sat down. Webb thought he knew what was running through Tolleston’s mind. Buck was being asked to take the word of a man he thought a criminal.

  “Why should I believe that?” Buck asked at long last. “I’ve never found that you told the truth in anything else you’ve ever said. I—”

  “Stoop is back,” Webb said quietly. “What did he have to report about my past?”

  Buck flushed. “It was like you said—or every man in that country will gladly lie for you. But that don’t change what you’ve turned into.”

  “I haven’t changed, Tolleston. It’s that damned suspicious mind of yours,” Webb said sharply.

  Buck half rose. “Suspicious?” he said, his voice hard in anger. “Explain it all, then! Why did you run out that first day I let you have a horse? Tell me that? Why did you run to Wintering?”

  Webb’s gaze shuttled to Martha, but she could not meet his look.

  “I’m afraid that’ll have to ride, Tolleston. Just a natural thing to do,” Webb said carelessly.

  “And you—”

  Martha’s voice cut through Buck’s speech and stopped it dead, as she said, “Tell the truth.”

  Webb closed his mouth and looked away.

  “Then I’ll tell it,” Martha said quietly. “He didn’t run away, dad. He was taken away—taken over into Wintering County and kept prisoner at the Bannisters’ place.”

  Buck turned swiftly to her. “How do you know?”

  “Because I saw him taken, dad. I made the suggestion. The man that took him was—was Britt Bannister.”

  A flush of shame colored Martha’s face, but she faced her father with head up. Before he could protest, she went on:

  “Britt Bannister and I had been seeing each other for months, dad. That’s where I went. We both hated this fight between our fathers and their friends. We laughed at it. Britt wanted to marry me. I wouldn’t do that—on your account, dad. But we saw each other. When you sent Webb Cousins out to spy on us, he did. Only we discovered him. We were afraid if we let him go, he would go back and tell you about our meeting, so Britt took him over to their place.”

  Buck looked as if someone had hit him. He sank back on the seat and lowered his head on his chest. Martha put a hand on his shoulder.

  “I’m sorry, dad. I didn’t want to sneak, but I wanted even less to hurt you. And it was my life, and Britt’s was his own! We had to find out, didn’t we?”

  “Find out what?” Buck said huskily.

  Martha’s throat tightened a little. “I know what I had to find out, dad. That you were right, and that you always had been! That Britt B
annister was the same sneaking, lying man that his father was! That he is a killer like you said all Bannisters were. I found that out!”

  Buck looked up at his daughter. He reached up and took her hand and drew her down to him. He put his arm around her then and said gently, “We call that experience, honey. Sometimes it’s bought dearer than that.”

  Martha smiled a little and looked over at Webb.

  “Thank you for trying to hide it, but it doesn’t matter now. I was wrong, that’s all.”

  Buck presently said to Webb, “Maybe I was wrong about that part, Cousins. But you can’t deny you were here when the place was burned and took a part in it.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Webb told him what his part had been. He told him, too, of the guards he had, and of his plot to bring them here. It was foolish, he admitted, but he had had a wild hope that he might do something to prevent the plundering of the place. He had succeeded in escaping from his guards, but the arrival of Charley upon the scene had been too sudden. Charley had not asked questions; he had simply opened up. And Webb couldn’t explain the truth when he regained consciousness, for it would only have meant that Bannister, who was present, would have taken him home to a greater punishment.

  Buck listened to this carefully. Webb could see that Buck almost wanted to believe it, but his judgment would not let him. And Webb saw, too, that his story, told as he had just done, seemed lame, evasive, too glib.

  It was then that Martha began to ask questions. She asked Webb how he rode over here. Had he been a prisoner? Had he been tied? What had happened when he got here? Webb told her that the hard cases had left him tied on his horse, but with a whisky bottle in his hand. He told how he managed to escape, how he ran down to the house; how, weaponless, he had picked up the rock and hit Shorty with it, afterward getting Shorty’s gun. The rest, he said, she had seen for herself.

  “But didn’t the man you shot ask you to give him a hand?” Martha asked.

  “What else could he do?” Webb told her. “He saw I had a gun, and that I had the drop on him. He had to be friendly, pretend to share the loot with me until he caught me off my guard.”

  Martha turned to her father and told him what she had found.

  “It’s true, dad. Everything he has said checks with the tracks and what I had guessed.”

  Buck said nothing. He only sat there staring down at his folded hands. A man could not change his convictions in a few moment’s time, nor through listening to talk, no matter how convincing.

  Martha finally said, “Dad, I think we’ve been wrong. Can’t you see it?”

  Buck did not answer. He turned to Webb. “Why did you come over with this news? You had a chance to escape, to jump the country.”

  Webb looked steadily at Tolleston, a trace of a smile on his face. “That’ll be the hardest part of the whole thing to explain, Tolleston. You won’t believe it. Do you want to hear it?”

  “Yes.”

  Looking at the fire, Webb began to talk in a low voice. “When you had me arrested, Tolleston, I had you pegged for a salty devil that wasn’t always right, but that was always fair with folks. You were as fair with me as you could be, I reckon, under the circumstances. I liked Wardecker, too. And I didn’t like what happened to you-all. I mean about the bank. But I went along. I had to, you might say, but it wasn’t all that, either. I took your hoorawin’ because I sort of liked you, and I figured that when Stoop came back, he’d put things right.

  “But when I run into this business with your daughter and young Bannister, the thing was taken clean out of my hands. I found out things then. First thing that happened to me, I was thrown under the guard of the five men that held up the bank. I knew then your hunch about Wintering County was right. And I learned the worst thing you could say about Bannister wouldn’t be bad enough. He’s a crook with a good brain, but he never had a conscience.”

  He paused and looked at Tolleston. “Does that sound phony to you?”

  “Go on,” Buck said.

  “When I tried to break away by comin’ up here, and when I was taken back and thrown in jail, I kept my eyes and my ears open.” He looked at Martha now, meeting her gaze steadily. “The first thing I learned was that Britt Bannister hated your girl, and that he tried to hire three of these Montana hardcases to kill you,” Webb said in a low voice. “I’m sorry about that, Miss Martha, but I was as wrong about him as you. I liked him.”

  Martha nodded faintly.

  Webb continued: “And then I learned about Mitch Budrow. I figured that he was the one that sold out on you, and I was sure of it when Wake Bannister hired these three men to kill him. He knew too much.” Webb paused, almost at a loss for something to say. Then he said, “Put yourself in my place, Tolleston. Could you have helped but take sides?”

  “Maybe not,” Buck said gently.

  “I couldn’t. I wanted to get out of there, to lay hands on Mitch Budrow and take him to you. I got out and I got hold of Mitch, but when I talked to him, I learned that what he’d done wouldn’t be anything to what Bannister was plannin’ to do. So I came up.”

  “Did—did you kill Mitch?” Martha asked.

  Webb shook his head. “No. He couldn’t go back to Bannister, because Bannister was tryin’ to kill him, and he knew it. He couldn’t come back here, because he’d be lynched. All he could do was run, and not very far at that. Bannister’ll cook up a charge and put five thousand on his head and he’ll be killed in some town before the month is up. I figured he’d dug his own grave.” He raised his hands and shrugged. “That’s my story, Tolleston. You can believe it or not.”

  Buck said nothing, only searched his face, as if something there would tell him if the man was telling the truth.

  Webb saw it was time to play his last card. He said, “There’s one way you can check up on my story, Tolleston.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Wait. First, you’ll admit that I haven’t laid a trap for you, have I? I haven’t told you anything that, if you believe it, you’d get in more trouble, have I?”

  Tolleston thought a moment. Finally he said, “No. Not that I can see.”

  “And I have told you somethin’ that, if it’s true, and you fight it, you’ll be able to whip Bannister. Isn’t that right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “All right. You ride into Wagon Mound tonight. I don’t know where a man can put up there, but things are so the people would know if a stranger came in—this stranger by the name of Clay Bogardus. That will be the name of Bannister’s agent.”

  Buck did not hesitate a second. He rose, turned to Chuck, and said, “Saddle up, Chuck. We’re ridin’.”

  To Webb he said, “I dunno why, son, but I want to trust you. But I wanted to trust Mitch Budrow, too.”

  And that, Webb understood, was an apology, and at the same time a promise. If Bogardus was there, and his description jibed with the one Webb had from Mitch, then Webb would be believed. That was all he wanted.

  Martha watched Chuck hunt up a lantern, and then he and Tolleston headed for the rebuilt corral, after telling Charlie to call in the guards.

  When Buck was gone, Martha glanced over at Webb. He was sitting quietly staring into the fire, as if content to be judged. For a moment Martha found herself comparing him with Britt. He had neither Britt’s polish nor his good looks, but he had something that Britt never would have, Martha thought—an absolute self-reliance and integrity that events would never change.

  She rose then and crossed over to him and held out her hand.

  “I believe you without any more proof,” she said quietly.

  Webb accepted her hand almost shyly. “When I rode up here I wasn’t sure if I’d get shot or horsewhipped.”

  “Dad believes you. He’s just thorough.”

  “He should be,” Webb said.

  Martha said softly and vehemently, “Oh, this is all so ugly. I wonder if any of us will ever put our trust in anyone again.”

  She saw Web
b watching her, his face grave. “You’ve got a right to wonder,” he said.

  Martha knew he was referring to Britt and to the bitter disillusionment he knew she felt. She asked on impulse, “What’s happened to Britt, Webb? Why has he turned against me so?”

  Webb only shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “You heard him that day you were eavesdropping on us. How do you square it with what he’s done?”

  “I don’t,” Webb said, and added softly, “Some day, though, I hope to square it with him.”

  “You hate him?”

  “Only for what he’s done to you,” Webb said.

  “Why should you care?”

  Webb was silent a long moment, looking at her. “I could be shy about this, but I won’t be. I think you’re good and I think you’re decent and friendly and honest and I think a man would be lucky to have you for a wife.” He shrugged faintly. “Britt’s forgotten that, if he ever knew it. He’s gone sour and he’s gone wrong and he’s tried every way he can to hurt you. That’s why I want to square things.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t,” Martha said quietly.

  Webb held her glance. “Any special reason?”

  “Because if you did, I’d be no better than Britt, would I?” She watched Webb consider this, watched him reject it, and knew that Webb believed she still loved Britt.

  “You’re right,” he said, but his words held no conviction, only politeness.

  Martha said, almost reluctantly, “Besides, I suppose I’m sentimental. I keep remembering what he once was. Maybe he’ll be that way again.”

  “To you?”

  Martha looked at him swiftly. “Not to me, Webb. I’ll never give him the chance.”

  “All right,” Webb said. “It’s whatever you want.”

  Martha knew he did not believe her, but before she could ask him, Tolleston called over to Webb to get his horse and come along.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Webb had not slept for a night and a day, but he did not feel tired. He rode between Tolleston and Chuck, and there was not much talk. Tolleston had not asked for his gun, and Webb did not wear it.