turned toward Williams.
“You aren’t talking about buying this herd, are you?”
Williams shook his head in the negative.
“So what you are asking me to do is steal the herd?”
Williams let out a nervous sigh before he answered. “Yes.”
“You do know, don’t you, that I own the Cattlemen’s Protective Association?” Staley said. “Stealing cows is not my business. My business is running down the outlaws who
“You found them?” Williams asked.
Staley nodded. “Found ’em and hung ’em. They’re danglin’ from a tree near Cobb’s Crossing right now as a warnin’ to anyone else who thinks they can get away with stealin’ cows.”
“I see,” Williams said nervously. He put his finger to his shirt collar and pulled it away from his neck.
“And now you are asking me to steal cows?”
“I, uh, I’m sorry,” Williams said. “I was led to believe that I could do business with you if the price was right.”
Suddenly, and inexplicably, the frown on Staley’s face was replaced by a smile.
“We can do business if the price is right,” he said.
“Seventy-five hundred dollars?”
“Ten thousand.”
Williams was silent for a long moment. Then, finally, he nodded.
“Ten thousand,” he agreed.
“Write out a letter, hiring me to recover your stolen herd,” Staley said.
“What? No, you don’t understand. The herd isn’t stolen, it’s…”
“No,
“Wait a minute,” Williams said. “If anything goes wrong, that would automatically transfer all the guilt to me.”
Williams smiled. “Yeah, it will, won’t it?” he said.
“All right, all right. You’re a difficult man to work with, Mr. Staley, but I don’t see as I have any choice. I’ll do as you say.”
“Good. That means that if you do everything I tell you to do, we’ll get along just real good. Now, where do I find these cows?”
Chapter Nineteen
Mike was riding nighthawk when he heard the sound of hooves, not a restless shuffling of cows repositioning themselves in the night, but a steady clack of hooves on rock. Since the herd was at a halt, he looked around to discover the source of the sound. Then, in the moonlight, he saw a long dark line, ragged with heads and horns, moving away from the main herd.
At first, he wasn’t sure of exactly what was going on; then, all at once, he realized what was happening. These cattle weren’t merely wandering away; they were being taken away.
“Billy!” he shouted to the man who was riding nighthawk with him. “Look out! We got rustlers! Call the others!”
Billy was closer to the main camp than Mike, and he shouted back toward the chuck wagon where the others were sleeping.
“Smoke! Pearlie! Cal! Turn out! We got rustlers!”
Billy’s shout not only awakened Smoke and the others, it also alerted the thieves to the fact that they had been spotted. Instantly thereafter, one of them fired a shot at the sound of Billy’s voice. Billy saw the muzzle flash, then heard the bullet whiz by, amazingly close for a wild shot in the dark.
Billy shot back, and the crack of the guns right over the head of the stolen cows started them running. By now, rapid and sustained gunfire was coming from the camp itself as Smoke and the others rolled out of their blankets and began shooting. Sally was standing in the wagon, firing a rifle, adding her own effort to the fight.
Billy put his pistol away and raised his rifle. He aimed toward the dust and the swirling melee of cattle, waiting for one of the robbers to present a target. One horse appeared, but its saddle was empty. Then another horse appeared, this time with a rider who was shooting wildly.
Billy fired and the robber’s horse broke stride, then fell, carrying his rider down with him, right in front of the running cattle. Downed horse and rider disappeared under the hooves of the maddened beasts.
So far, only the cattle that had been stolen were running. The main herd, though made restless by the flashes and explosions in the night, milled around, but resisted running.
Cal appeared alongside Billy then, having mounted more quickly than any of the others.
“Are the others coming?” Billy asked.
