“Who was that?” she asked.
“That was Luke Shardeen,” Adele said.
“What did he want?”
“I don’t have the slightest idea. And what’s more, I don’t think he does, either.”
Before returning to his ranch, Luke stopped by the post office to pick up his mail. He had a letter from Heckemeyer and Sons, a cattle brokerage company in the nearby town of Greenhorn. Anxiously, he opened the letter, hoping it was the answer he was looking for.
Luke shipped 500 head of Hereford cattle by rail to Greenhorn, paying five dollars per head to get them there. The railroad had off-loaded the cattle into a holding pen where they would keep them without charge for one day. If he made the sale, Heckemeyer and Sons would move the cattle from the pen.
“I tried to get you forty-two fifty, but the best offer I’ve been able to come up with, is forty dollars a head,” Heckemeyer said. “That would be twenty thousand dollars for all five hundred head.”
“Great,” Luke said. “I was prepared to sell for thirty-five dollars a head. The five-dollar increase paid for shipping them over here.”
“Well, then,” Heckemeyer said with a broad smile. “We will both be happy, and you will be sure to tell others of the wonderful service provided you by Heckemeyer and Sons.”
“Yes sir. I’ll be glad to do that, Mr. Heckemeyer.”
Luke signed the bill of sale, then left the office. Twenty thousand dollars was the most money he’d ever had, and he went on a short shopping spree, buying a new shirt, a pair of boots, and a rain slicker. After that he stopped by the saloon to have a celebratory drink before heading back to Two Crowns.
“Did you get your cows sold?” the bartender asked as he poured a shot of whiskey into Luke’s glass.
“I did indeed. And a good price I got for them too,” Luke replied. “Set the bar up for one round. This has been a most productive and profitable trip for me.”
“One free drink to everyone,” the bartender called. “Compliments of this gentleman.”
With shouts of thanks, the other patrons in the saloon rushed to the bar as Luke saluted them with a raised glass.
In another part of the same saloon two men exchanged glances, then left the saloon.
“You think he’ll have the money with him?”
“He just bought drinks all around, didn’t he? Where else would the money be, if not on him?”
“Yeah, you’re right. Where else would it be?”
“So, what do we do, now?”
“Let’s get our horses. We’ll watch the front of the saloon, and when he leaves, we’ll follow.”
Half an hour later, after exchanging good-byes with the new friends he had made, Luke left the saloon, mounted his horse, and started home.
“Tell me, Harry,” he said, patting his horse on the neck. “How does it feel to be ridden by a rich man?”
Harry whickered and nodded his head.
Luke laughed. “All right, Harry, all right. I’m not really what you would call rich. But I’ll have you know I am carrying more money than I have ever held in my hands in my entire life.”
CHAPTER SIX
“Here he comes,” muttered one of the two men waiting for Luke.
“Let’s go,” the other instructed.
“Shouldn’t we wait until he passes, then follow?”
“No, we’ll ride ahead of him. That way he won’t suspect anything, and we can set up and wait for him.”
Shortly after leaving town, Luke noticed the two horsemen on the road ahead of him. Acutely aware of his environment because of the money he was carrying, he decided not to overtake them, but to keep them in sight. That worked well for the first fifteen minutes, and when he reached the top of the next rise he expected to see them still on the road just ahead.
They weren’t there, and despite a very careful perusal, they were nowhere to be seen. Where did they go? There were no buildings to have entered nor crossroads to have taken, so what happened to them? He found it rather troubling that he could no longer see them.
Pulling his pistol, Luke checked the loads in the cylinder chambers, and satisfying himself that he was ready for any contingency, returned the gun to the holster. Shifting his eyes back and forth from one side of the trail to the other he rode ahead. Suddenly, through a break in the trees, he caught a glimpse of two mounted men waiting just off the side of the road. Drawing his pistol again, he cocked it and held it straight down by his side. Thus armed and alert, he continued forward.
When the two riders thrust themselves in the road in front of him, Luke was ready for them. Both men were wearing hoods over their faces, only their eyes visible through the eyeholes.
“Throw down your money!” one shouted.
“The hell I will!” Luke called back, bringing up his arm and firing in the same motion.
A little puff of dust flew up from the man where the bullet hit. A red spot appeared there as well, and the man who had challenged him fell from his horse.
The other rider, suddenly realizing he no longer had a two-to-one advantage, jerked his horse around and dug in the spurs.
Luke holstered his pistol and snaked his rifle from the saddle sheath. Jacking a round into the chamber, he raised the rifle to his shoulder and took very careful aim, but couldn’t bring himself to shoot a man in the back. Carefully, he eased the hammer back down and lowered the rifle as he watched the rider flee.
Dismounting, Luke walked over to the man he had shot and saw that he was dead. The man’s fate neither surprised nor bothered him. It had been a head-to-head confrontation, and the robber knew the chances he took when he set out. Luke pulled the hood off and tossed it to one side as he studied the man’s face without recognition.
The road agent’s horse had not run off, so, with some effort, Luke put the dead man belly down over the saddle. He thought about going back to Greenhorn, but he was almost as close to Pueblo, so he decided to take him there.
Riding up to the sheriff’s office in Pueblo half an hour later, he was greeted by Deputy Sheriff Proxmire, who met him out in front of the office. “Who have you got there, Luke?”
“To tell you the truth, Deputy, I don’t know who this man is,” Luke answered. “But this fella and another man tried to rob me.”
