ain’t never hired nothing but trash over there at the Bar V. Most of them runnin’ from the law somewheres.”
“Where does Clint fit into all this?”
The old man laughed bitterly. “That’s funny, son. Really funny. You see, I hired some fancy detectives to hunt that witch-woman down and bring my grandson back to me. They found her and brung him back. Bad seed, Smoke. He’s just bad. But the more I got to lookin’ at him, the more I began to suspect he wasn’t none of my blood. The day he run off for the last time, he told me. My boy Clint didn’t father him. Jud Vale did.”
4
Smoke walked outside the barn with Walt and paused to roll a cigarette. “Does Jud Vale know about Clint being his son?”
“Oh, yeah. That’s why he wants Clint dead and Doreen his so bad. He suspects, and rightly so, that I changed my will leaving everything to Doreen. He don’t want no wood’s colt hanging around, messin’ everything up. And with Doreen his woman, willing or not, he could produce a false weddin’ license and claim it all. At worse, he could tie it up in court for years.”
“Jud sounds like a real nice fellow.”
“A regular Prince Charming,” the old man said sourly.
“I’m glad you told me this, Walt.”
“Me and the old woman talked about it last night. We agreed that it wasn’t right for you to come in here and lay your life on the line for us, and us not to level with you. I’d have gotten around to tellin’ you, son.”
“You say you found gold around here?”
“A small pocket of it. I panned it plumb out. There was enough for me to invest in one thing or the other and become a well set up man. That’s another thing, Smoke. Jud Vale knows about me panning the gold. But I never could convince the hard-headed no-good that there ain’t no more gold. The gold I panned washed in here from God knows where, and the small pocket I mined is gone. Nature is a funny critter, Smoke. She’ll sometimes put precious minerals in a place where they just ain’t supposed to be. And when it’s gone, it’s gone forever. There just ain’t no more.”
“But Jud Vale doesn’t believe that.” It was not a question.
Walt sighed. “No. The man’s a fool when it comes to money. Greediest man I ever saw in all my life. Got hisself a regular palace on his spread. And Doreen believes the man is in love with her; obsessed, is the way she put it. He’s finally found something that he can’t have; he can’t buy it or steal it, and he’s furious about it.”
“He might try to take her by force.”
“That thought has come to me from time to time.”
“You going to tell her that you leveled with me?”
“Yes. Oughta ease the tensions around here.”
“For a fact. Let’s go all the way with it and then we’ll speak no more of it. How were you getting your food in here?”
“Shoshone friends of mine. But rations was gettin’ kinda sparse since Jud found the trail they was usin’ and posted guards on it.”
“Toward the end of this week, once the boys have settled in, we’ll take a ride to the trading post and stock up. I imagine Alice and Doreen would like a little outing.”
“I reckon so. Ain’t none of us been off this spread in months. And them boys you brung eat like starvin’ animals!”
The boys settled right in and soon needed very little supervison. They began stringing wire and doing a good job of it. Smoke took Cheyenne and several of the older boys and went looking for Box T cattle. He felt he knew where most of the cattle would be, and his hunch paid off.
“We been on Bar V range for a time,” Cheyenne pointed out.
“And seeing more and more of Walt’s cattle. Jamie, you boys start hazing them out and bunching them.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Smoke.”
They hadn’t gone another half-mile before Jud Vale and half a dozen of his hardcases came galloping up, punishing their horses needlessly. That was another way you could judge a man’s character—by the way he treated his horse. Smoke’s dislike for Jud Vale deepened as he looked at the lathered-up gelding he was riding.
“What the hell are you doing on my range, Jensen?” Jud demanded.
“Looking for Box T cattle, Vale. And finding them. You got any objections?”
Cheyenne had shifted positions so the muzzle of his Winchester was aimed right at a Bar V rider’s belly, and the Bar V man didn’t look a bit happy about it.
Smoke had pulled his Winchester out of the boot and had his thumb on the hammer. Jud didn’t seem to be too terribly thrilled about that either, since the muzzle was pointed in his general direction.
“Yeah,” Vale finally replied. “I got objections. I can’t help it if that old coot’s cattle wandered onto my range, eatin up all my grass.”
“Well, then, you should be glad to see us, Vale. We’re going to take them back to home range and then you won’t have to spend your nights worrying about them. Now we can either do that, or I can wire the territorial governor and ask for range detectives to be sent in here. How do you want it, Vale?”
The man puffed up like a ’possum and gave Smoke some dark looks. “Well ... git your damn cattle and git the hell off my land then. I’m tired of lookin’ at your damn ugly face, Jensen.”
