“We’ve heard a little bit about it,” Smoke said, following Chisum into a big log house decorated inside with mounted cattle horns and colorful Indian blankets nailed to the walls. Leather chairs sat around a massive fireplace and Chisum pointed to one as he went to a cabinet for a bottle of whiskey and glasses.
“You were lucky you didn’t ride into a cross fire,” Chisum said, pouring Smoke a shot of whiskey, “and I’ll warn you to be careful heading back with any cattle you buy from me. We’ve got rustlers and gunmen riding all over the county stealing cows and killin’ folks.” He glanced down at Smoke’s pair of pistols. ”I can see you and your men are well armed, but you’d better know how to use the iron you’re packing.”
“We can handle ourselves, I think,” Smoke replied before he tasted his drink, finding it to be good sour mash, not the cheap watered stuff.
“Glad to hear it,” Chisum said, settling into a chair. “If you’re lucky, you won’t run into any troublemakers.”
“Never was real lucky in that regard,” Smoke told him, “but if trouble comes our way, I know what to do with it.”
Chisum chuckled, reading Smoke’s face closely now. “I’m a pretty good judge of men, Mr. Jensen, and I don’t figure that’s any exaggeration. Some gents send out a warning to other men by the way they carry themselves. While we don’t know each other, I’m pretty sure I’d hate to tangle with you if you got on a mad.”
Smoke grinned. He took an immediate liking to Chisum. “I’m looking forward to seeing those bulls. And if the price is right, I’d like to buy about two hundred young longhorn cows to cross ’em on.”
Chisum nodded. “I’ll give you your pick of my longhorn heifers for twenty-five bucks apiece.”
“That’s a fair price if they’re in good flesh. We’ve got to drive ’em a long way, so they’ll need to be in good trail condition.”
“You’ll be well satisfied,” Chisum assured him, downing his drink in a single gulp. “A Hereford is a good cross on a longhorn. More meat, and the calves are almost disease free. The Hereford breed is the thing of the future in the cattle market, as far as I’m concerned.”
“My wife’s been reading up on ’em and she says the same thing,” Smoke said. “We’re just hoping they take well to colder country.”
“They do, and they can handle the heat in summer. If they have faults, it’s that they’re short-legged creatures, so they don’t trail as well as a longhorn, and a purebred Hereford is subject to pinkeye in hot weather sometimes.”
These were some of the same things Sally had told him about Herefords. Smoke was glad to find that Chisum was being honest about his bulls. He decided Chisum would make a good neighbor and friend, if they lived closer. Chisum would be a good man to ride the trails with… he had character. “Soon as the boys get a drink in ’em, I’d like to see those bulls,” he said.
Chisum stood up and poured another round. “I’ll tell Maria to get the stove hot and fix something for everybody to eat. We can go down to the barns and look at those bulls anytime you’re ready.”Eighteen
Billy Barlow came galloping up to the log cabin at Bosque Redondo on a lathered, winded horse. He jumped to the ground, seemingly out of breath himself even though his horse had done all the traveling.
“Could be trouble, Jessie,” he said to Jessie Evans. Billy had been assigned to watch the Chisum ranch for cattle buyers, and to see if Chisum was hiring any more gunmen.
“How’s that?” Jessie asked.
“Seven riders leadin’ spare horses just showed up at Chisum’s. I had my field glasses on ’em when they come along the road from Lincoln. They was all car-ryin’ guns, plenty of ’em, an’ I’m pretty sure I know who one of ’em is.”
“Who is he?” Jessie asked, not really interested since he didn’t trust Barlow’s judgment in these matters.
“A feller from up in Colorado Territory by the name of Smoke Jensen.”
“The name don’t mean nothin’ to me.”
“Maybe it oughta. I spent a little time up there workin’ on a ranch. Smoke Jensen is one bad hombre with a six-gun. Up in them parts damn near everybody knows him. He’s a killer, Jessie, an honest to goodness killer. He’s got about the meanest reputation a man can have, an’ there was six more rode in with him.” Jessie leaned forward on the bench where he sat watching men change cattle brands in the corrals. He didn’t figure Barlow was good enough with a gun to know much about gunmen. Since William Bonney and some of his friends had ambushed Sheriff Brady and Deputy Hindeman, he’d been thinking of a way to strike back. It was a cowardly way to kill two men, hiding behind a fence until they came into range, gunning them down without warning. Bonney and his young friends were calling themselves Regulators now and someone said they were wearing badges authorized by an old justice of the peace, Judge Wilson. Their badges didn’t mean a damn thing, and Bonney and his green companions were nothing to worry about, but if Chisum was importing more professional gunmen like Curly Tully and Buck Andrews, this was another matter. “I’ll send Roy Cooper an’ six of them Mexican
Barlow seemed uncertain. “I wasn’t jokin’, boss, when I said this feller is dangerous. Maybe you oughta send some more men with Roy.”
“I’m runnin’ this outfit,” Jessie declared angrily. “You tell Roy I want him, an’ tell them Mexicans to saddle horses up as quick as they can. Show Roy who this Jensen feller is… point him out through them field glasses when you get a chance. That makes eight of us an’ seven of them, and as far as I’m concerned, Roy is better’n any three men with a gun. Maybe Jensen’s just passin’ through. No need to get yourself so worked up over one man’s reputation.”
Barlow backed away in the face of Jessie’s anger, leading his horse toward the corrals. Jessie leaned back against the cabin wall, pulling a cork from the neck of a tequila bottle.
Bill Pickett appeared to have been dozing at the other end of the porch with his hat over his face. But as Jessie took a swallow of tequila, Pickett sat up straight, watching Barlow as he went looking for Cooper.
“Barlow may be right,” Pickett said. “Maybe you oughta send more men. I’ll go. Hell, I ain’t shot nobody in so
