long I plumb forgot what it’s like to see a man die. All we’re doin’ is sittin’ around this stinkin’ cow camp waitin’ for somethin’ to happen.”
“I don’t put much stock in what Barlow said about this Jensen bein’ a real shooter. Maybe Jensen just stopped by the ranch to say howdy. Either way, if he leaves Chisum’s, Roy’ll make sure he don’t go no place else. Barlow ain’t all that good with a gun himself, so ain’t no reason why he’d know if a man was one of the best. You stay here. We’ll go lookin’ for that Billy Bonney an’ his friends in a day or two. If we kill ’bout a half dozen of them so-called Regulators, it’ll help square things for what they did to Sheriff Brady an’ Hindeman. We can’t let a thing like that go unpunished, or afore you know it every son of a bitch in Lincoln County will be wearin’ a badge.”
“Well, damn,” Pickett muttered, leaning back against the wall with his hat over his face. “I was tryin’ to remember if I’d ever killed anybody named Jensen before, which I ain’t. Not that I recall anyways. There ain’t always time to ask a feller’s name before you blow him to pieces.”
“Be patient, Bill,” Jessie said. “You can kill that Bonney kid instead.”
Down at the corrals, men were running back and forth leading horses to the saddle shed. Roy Cooper came ambling up to the cabin with his rifle balanced in his palm.
“Barlow said we’s supposed to head fer Chisum’s an’ blow hell outa some owlhoot named Smoke Jensen,” he said.
“Barlow claims he’s a shooter,” Jessie said, “from up in Colorado Territory. Him an’ six more just rode, in at Chisum’s place. Take those five Mexicans ridin’ with Pedro an’ see if you can kill this Jensen an’ his pardners, if they leave the ranch. If they stay, keep an eye on ’em. Find out what Chisum’s up to. If he’s hirin’ more guns, we need to know.”
Cooper frowned. “This ain’t no way to fight a war, Jessie. Hell, we’ve got damn near thirty men as it is. How come we don’t ride over to Chisum’s an’ kill him an’ every last one of them sons of bitches?”
“Orders from Dolan. We kill ’em off a few at a time an’ it don’t make so much ruckus. Just take care of Jensen an’ his men till we get word from Dolan that things have changed. I figure them kids killin’ Brady and Hindeman will touch off the boys up in Santa Fe . They’ve got the purse strings, so we do what they say. After all, Roy , you ain’t no different from me. We’re only in this for the money…”
“This Jensen’s as good as dead,” Roy promised, wheeling away from the porch.
Jessie felt better about things now.Nineteen
Smoke rested his elbows on a corral pole admiring a group of curious, stocky young bulls with sorrel bodies and white heads, a pair of short, curved horns, and more meat than he had ever seen on a cow.
“They’re more than I expected,” he told John Chisum, wishing Sally could see these impressive specimens of beef cattle for herself right now. “They carry more muscle across the hindquarter all the way up their backs to their chests. If the crosses are even half this good, it’ll mean a.bigger profit for every calf we sell.”
“I’ll show you some of the crosses when we ride out in the pastures,” Chisum said. “You won’t be disappointed. You’re looking at the future of the cattle business.”
“I’d like to see those crosses,” Smoke said, pulling away from the fence. His men were lounging on Chisum’s front porch after a delicious meal of beefsteak, tortillas, beans, and rice. “My boys and neighbors look damn near foundered after all that food. You and me can ride out to look at the crossbreds while my bunch recovers from Maria’s good cooking.”
Chisum grinned. “Let’s saddle a couple of horses,” he said as they turned for the barns. “I’ve got a bunch of crossbred steers close to the house in a pasture north of here. It’s less than a half hour ride.“
“Sounds good to me,” Smoke replied, thinking of pastures at Sugarloaf filled with white-faced cattle in a few years. “Just so you’ll know, I’ll take fifteen of those bulls. A few are for my neighbors, who aim to start the same breeding program. If you got no objections, we’ll pick the bulls and roughly two hundred longhorn heifers tomorrow morning. I brought cash, so you’ll be paid on the spot.”
“Then we’ve got a deal,” Chisum said, offering Smoke his hand as a way of sealing their bargain.
The crossbreds all had white faces. Some were brindle in body color, while others were spotted like many longhorns, or a solid black or brown. The steers they saw were long yearlings, born last year, and they carried more beef than Smoke had imagined. Riding across a narrow, tree-studded valley turning green with spring grass, they rode among the gende cattle without disturbing them. At the far end of the valley, a pair of Chisum cowboys kept watch over the herd. Smoke noted they were carrying rifles and pistols as if they expected trouble.
“Your cowhands go heavily armed,” he said. “Too bad you’re havin’ all these problems with rustling. Seems to me like the law would step in.”
Chisum’s jaw went tight. “The law ‘round here is mostly a bunch of crooks wearing badges, taking bribes from powerful men up in the territorial capitol at Santa Fe. They look the other way when I got robbed, for the most part. Now and then they go through the motions, investigating any rustling. That leaves it up to me to protect my own interests if I want to stay in business.”
“So you’ve hired your own gunmen,” Smoke observed. .“I guess it makes sense if it’s the only way.”
“I feel .I’ve got no choice, unless our new governor takes some action. Things have gotten so far out of hand it isn’t safe to ride my own land any longer. These rustlers get more brazen as time passes, when nothing official is done about them. I’m hoping all that will change this summer. But if it doesn’t, I intend to fight fire with fire. I’ve hired two experienced manhunters… Buck Andrews and Curly Tully. If I lose one more cow or one more ranch hand, I’m sending them after whoever is responsible. I’m through sitting on the fence waiting for the law to come to my rescue. I’m taking things into my own hands.”
“That’d be my way of handlin’ it,” Smoke agreed as they rode to a pine-covered ridge at the north end of the valley. “I’m a real firm believer in takin’ an eye for an eye.”
“You’ll need to watch the cattle you purchase from me very closely until you get out of this area,” Chisum warned. “They won’t spare your herd if they think they can take it.”
Now it was Smoke’s jaw tightening a little. “Let ’em try,” he said quietly as they neared the trees where the last groups of crossbred steers grazed peacefully.
It was a sudden glint of sunlight on metal up on the ridge that made Smoke twist in the saddle, one hand reflexively going for a bolstered Colt. “Watch out!” he snapped, eyes glued to the spot. “Somebody’s up there with a gun.”
