Angus swiveled around in his leather high-backed chair and regarded Cletus with raised eyebrows. “Who lit a fire under your saddle, boy?” he asked in his rough, gravely voice. Cletus was just about the only man on the ranch that Angus would allow to burst in on him unannounced.
“I got this here message from Miss Sarah, Boss,” Cletus said, pulling a wrinkled yellow envelope from his breast pocket. It was wet with sweat from his rapid ride from town. “The telegraph man said it came in yesterday but it was too late to get it out here by then.”
Angus frowned, but didn’t say anything as he slit the envelope with a thumbnail and pulled out the telegram. At first, he’d been very angry at her for taking off after Smoke Jensen on her own without consulting him. But after thinking about it, he’d realized he would have expected a son to do it, and Sarah had always been as good as, and often better than, his son had been at managing the ranch.
He smiled and opened up the folded yellow sheet of paper. After a moment spent reading it, he swiveled around and stared out the window, thinking.
Cletus was bursting with curiosity to find out what Sarah had done about Smoke Jensen, but he knew better than to interrupt the old man while he was thinking. Even though Cletus had been with Angus MacDougal since the early days when they’d fought off Indians and rustlers and road agents together while founding the MacDougal spread, and even though he was the kids’ godfather, since they were pups he’d never thought much of Johnny. He knew he was and always had been a spoiled brat. However, Cletus thought Sarah was one of the prettiest and nicest womenfolk he’d ever known. Hell, if he’d been twenty years younger and hadn’t been like family to her, he’d’ve made a run at her himself.
After a moment, Angus turned his chair back around, crumpling the paper in his fist. “Get your gear together and gather up the best ten men you can find, Cletus. You’re gonna take a little trip down to Big Rock.”
When Cletus nodded, Angus turned back to his desk and picked up a pencil and paper. “And send little Jimmy in here. He’s gonna need to ride to Pueblo and send my daughter an answer to her wire.”
“Uh, Boss, what do I tell the men we’re gonna go to Big Rock for?” Cletus asked.
Angus MacDougal smiled grimly. “Tell ‘em you’re gonna go down there and pick up a skunk and bring him back here to me to deal with.”
“Yes, sir,” Cletus said, though he really didn’t understand just what the old man meant about picking up a skunk. Hell, they had plenty of those around here if’n he wanted one.
Cletus was loyal to the bone, but sometimes he was dumb as a post.
Three days later, days Macklin spent holed up in his hotel room lest he run into Smoke Jensen or one of his friends again, a bellboy knocked on the door to Jacoby’s room and handed him a handwritten note.
Jacoby opened it and read; “Meet me at our usual dining place after the noon rush at three o’clock.” It was signed with only an S.
Jacoby tipped the boy a nickel and went next door and knocked on Macklin’s door. When he answered, Jacoby showed him the note. “We’ve got about an hour till three o’clock. That ought to give you time to get freshened up a mite,” Jacoby said, wrinkling his nose as he looked at Macklin’s disheveled attire and unshaven face.
His friend had been in a funk ever since the day Jensen scared him half to death by drawing on him and Sarah had chewed his butt about going against her father’s wishes.
“Yeah, all right,” Macklin said in a dull voice.
“You got to snap out of it, man,” Jacoby said. “We got work to do.” He knew that Macklin was still ashamed that he hadn’t had the courage to draw down on Jensen when he had the chance. Jacoby had tried to explain to him that it wouldn’t have done any good, and that the only result would have been that Mac would now be deader than yesterday’s news. Still, his friend was not accustomed to backing down from anyone, least of all the man who’d killed his best friend and his boss’s son.
“That is, if I ain’t been fired,” Macklin said, and shut the door in Jacoby’s face.
It was five after three and the Sunset Cafe was almost deserted when Macklin and Jacoby joined Sarah at their usual table in the rear. Jacoby was thankful that Macklin had shaved and washed up before the meeting. He didn’t want Sarah to see how his friend had declined in mental attitude since his run-in with Smoke Jensen.
Sarah had already ordered, so the men sat down across the table from her and told the waitress to just bring them whatever she was having, though they both wanted coffee instead of the hot tea she favored.
After the waitress left, Sarah placed a telegram on the table so they could both read it. It said:
I AGREE FULLY WITH YOUR IDEA STOP WILL SEND SOME MEN TO HELP YOU ROUND UP STOCK AND BRING THEM BACK HERE TO RANCH FOR FURTHER EXAMINATION AND FINAL DETERMINATION OF THEIR DISPOSITION END
Macklin raised his eyebrows. “Just what does this mean, Sarah?”
She took a bite of her food and washed it down with her hot tea. “I telegrammed my father and told him I was having trouble rounding up the stock he was interested in and that I needed some more help, and that the beeves should be transported to the ranch rather than being slaughtered here.” She inclined her head at the paper on the table. “You can see his reply for yourselves.”
Jacoby leaned forward. “So what are you saying? Your dad’s gonna send some men here to take Jensen prisoner and bring him back to the ranch in Pueblo?”
She smiled and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Yes, that’s exactly what it means. I didn’t figure the three of us would be able to get the drop on Jensen and get him all the way back to Pueblo by ourselves.” She hesitated, glaring at them through narrowed eyes. “Especially considering the rather friendly feelings toward him you two have been showing.”
“Sarah,” Macklin said, shaking his head. “This is crazy. Kidnapping is a hanging offense.”
“So is murder, in case you’ve forgotten what he did to my brother,” she snapped in reply. After a moment, she took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. She needed their help, and there was no need getting them so angry they might refuse it.
“Besides, since both of you seem to have some notion that Jensen is not guilty where it comes to my brother’s death, I would think that you’d be glad Daddy has consented to us bringing Jensen out to the ranch and letting him tell his side of it.”
Jacoby and Macklin glanced at each other. They both knew that wasn’t the reason old Angus MacDougal wanted Jensen brought to him—it was more likely so the old man could have the pleasure of putting a bullet in
