'It is nothing,' I said, 'one of them is Reed Carney.'
'Gracias, Senor Sackett,' Torres said. 'I believed I was safe so far from the hacienda, but a man is safe nowhere.'
Riding back toward Mora I kept still and let Orrin and Torres get acquainted.
Torres was a solid man and I knew Orrin would like him, and Torres liked people, so the contrary was true.
Torres turned off toward the ranch and we rode on into Mora. We got down in front of the saloon and strolled inside. It took one glance to see we weren't among friends. For one thing there wasn't a Mex in the place and this was mostly a Mexican town, and there were faces I remembered from Pawnee Rock. We found a place at the bar and ordered drinks.
There must have been forty men in that saloon, a dusty, dirty lot, most of them with uncut hair over their collars, and loaded down with six-shooters and bowie knives. Fetterson was at the other end of the bar but hadn't seen us.
We finished our drinks and edged toward the door and then we came face to face with Red ... the one my horse had knocked down at Pawnee Rock.
He started to open his mouth, but before he could say a word, Orrin clapped him on the shoulder. 'Red! You old sidewinder! Come on outside and let's talk!'
Now Red was a slow-thinking man and he blinked a couple of times, trying to decide what Orrin was talking about, and we had him outside before he could yell. He started to yell but Orrin whooped with laughter and slapped Red on the back so hard it knocked all the breath out of him. Outside the door I put my knife against his ribs and he lost all impulse to yell. I mean he steadied down some.
'Now wait a minute,' he protested, 'I never done you boys any harm. I was just--'
'You just walk steady,' I told him, 'I'm not in the mood for trouble myself. I got a backache and I don't feel up to a shooting, so don't push me.'
'Who's pushing?'
'Red,' Orrin said seriously, 'you're the kind of a man we like to see. Handsome, upstanding ... and alive.'
'Alive!' I added, 'But you'd make a handsome corpse, Red.'
By now we had him out in the dark and away from his friends, and he was scared, his eyes big as pesos. He looked like a treed coon in the lanternlight. 'What you goin' to do to me?' he protested. 'Look, I--'
'Red,' Orrin said, 'There's a fair land up north, a wide and beautiful land.
It's a land with running water, clear streams, and grass hip-high to a tall elk.
I tell you Red, that's a country!'
'And you know something, Red?' I put in my two-bits' worth. 'We think you should see it.'
'We surely do.' Orrin was dead serious. 'We're going to miss you if you go, Red.
But Red, you stay and we won't miss you.'
'You got a horse, Red?'
'Yeah, sure.' He was looking from one to the other of us. 'Sure, I got a horse.'
'You'll like that country up north. Now it can get too hot here for a man, Red, and the atmosphere is heavy ... there's lead in it, you know, or liable to be.
We think you should get a-straddle of that cayuse of yours, Red, and keep riding until you get to Pike's Peak, or maybe Montana.'
'To--tonight!' he protested.
'Of course. All your life you've wanted to see that country up north, Red, and you just can't wait.'
'I--I got to get my outfit. I--'
'Don't do it, Red.' Orrin shook his head, big-eyed. 'Don't you do it.' He leaned closer. 'Vigilantes, Red. Vigilantes.'
Red jerked under my hand, and he wet his lips with his tongue. 'Now, look here!' he protested.
'The climate's bad here, Red. A man's been known to die from it. Why, I know men that'd bet you wouldn't live to see daybreak.'
We came to a nice little gray. 'This your horse?'
He nodded.
'You get right up into the saddle, Red. No--keep your gun. If somebody should decide to shoot you, they'd want you to have your gun on to make it look right.
Looks bad to shoot an unarmed man. Now don't you feel like traveling, Red?'
By this time Red may have been figuring things out, or maybe he never even got started. Anyway, he turned his horse into the street and went out of town at a fast canter.
Orrin looked at me and grinned. 'Now there's a traveling man!' He looked more serious. 'I never thought we'd get out of there without a shooting. That bunch was drinking and they would have loved to lynch a couple of us, or shoot us.'
We rode back to join Cap and Tom Sunday. 'About time. Tom has been afraid he'd have to go down and pull you out from under some Settlement man,' Cap said.
'What do you mean ... Settlement man?'
'Jonathan Pritts has organized a company which he calls the Settlement Company.
You can buy shares. If you don't have money you can buy them with your gun.'
Orrin had nothing to say, he never did when Pritts' name was mentioned. He just sat down on his bed and pulled off a boot.
'You know,' he said reflectively, 'all that talk about the country up north convinced me. I think we should all go.'
Chapter X
Mora lay quiet in the warm sun, and along the single street, nothing stirred.
From the porch of the empty house in which we had been camping, I looked up the street, feeling the tautness that lay beneath the calm. Orrin was asleep inside the house, and I was cleaning my .44 Henry. There was trouble building and we all knew it.
Fifty or sixty of the Settlement crowd were in town, and they were getting restless for something to do, but I had my own plans and didn't intend they should be ruined by a bunch of imported trouble makers.
Tom Sunday came out on the porch and stopped under the overhang where I was working on my rifle. He took out one of those thin black cigars and lighted up.
'Are you riding out today?'
'Out to the place,' I said, 'we've found us a place about eight or nine miles from here.'
He paused and took the cigar from his mouth. 'I want a place too, but first I want to see what happens here. A man with an education could get into politics and do all right out here.' He walked on down the street.
Tom was no fool; he knew there was going to be a demand for some law in Mora, and he intended to be it. I knew he wouldn't take a back seat because of Orrin.
It worried me to think of what would happen when Orrin and Tom found out each wanted the same office, although I doubted if Orrin would mind too much.
When I finished cleaning my rifle I saddled up, put my blanket roll behind the saddle and got ready to ride out. Orrin crawled out of bed and came to the door.
'I'll be out later, or Cap will,' he said. 'I want to keep an eye on things here.' He walked to the horse with me. 'Tom say anything?'
'He wants to be marshal.'
Orrin scowled. 'Damn it, Tyrel, I was afraid of that. He'd probably make a better marshal than me.'
'There's no telling about that, but I'd say it was a tossup, Orrin, but you can win in the election. I just hate to see you two set off against each other.
Tom's a good man.'
Neither one of us said anything for a while, standing there in the sun, thinking about it. It was a mighty fine morning and hard to believe so much trouble was building around us.
'I've got to talk to him,' Orrin said at last, 'this ain't right. We've got to level with him.'
All I could think of was the fact the four of us had been together two years now, and it had been a good
