Slocum and the Tonto Basin War Read online

  Slocum rode closer and in a smooth motion brought up the rifle and fired. He missed the wolf stalking a calf at the periphery of the herd, but he ruined its chance of getting a quick meal. The cattle began to run. Slocum squeezed off a second shot but missed the wolf again. He considered going after it because it must be sick. Otherwise, it would never have stalked its prey from upwind.

  “Let it go, Slocum,” Tewksbury said. “There’s no point goin’ after it.”

  “What if I want a wolf skin?”

  “It’ll disappear like a ghost within twenty yards. I been after that gray devil for months.”

  Slocum doubted Tewksbury’s hunting skill, but chasing after a hungry wolf wasn’t something he wanted to do right now.

  “Might be sick,” Slocum said. “It was going after its prey from upwind, so the cattle could smell it coming.”

  “Don’t let that worry you none,” Tewksbury said. “Huntin’s easy here and even the wolves aren’t too bright. Don’t have to be.”

  Slocum shoved his rifle back into its scabbard. He didn’t understand what was going on around here. Tewksbury couldn’t make a living off cattle, and yet the wolves were so bold they didn’t care if they were scented before they attacked. Everything was mixed up.

  “We might have more cattle to deal with, if you still want to drive ’em to market fer me.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Let’s skedaddle on back to the house,” Tewksbury said. “Don’t look like two-legged wolves are after any of these beeves.”

  Slocum wondered at the man’s sudden loss of interest in cattle he had been so keen on protecting before. The wolf would have brought down one cow at the most and still might. But this had been important enough to leave the Daggs brothers after a big business deal was closed. Now Tewksbury had to return to the house.

  Slocum rode in silence, hardly listening to the man chattering away like a magpie. As they reached the double-rutted road leading to the ranch house, Slocum drew rein and cocked his head to one side.

  “What’s up, Slocum?”

  “Listen. Cattle and lots of them. What’s going on?”

  Tewksbury grinned and said, “Caleb and the boys’ve been busy tonight. And Graham’s got maybe a hundred head fewer in his herd to worry over.”

  Slocum stared at him in amazement. Tewksbury had wanted him away while his son and hired hands were out rustling a neighbor’s cattle, because Slocum would object.

  “What’s wrong, Slocum? You ain’t squeamish ’bout liberatin’ a few of Graham’s cows, are you?”

  “I’ll take the beeves owed me and be moving on at first light,” Slocum said. “And I want only the cattle with the Circle T brand.”

  Tewksbury laughed and said, “Hell, boy, by dawn that’ll be all them beeves!”

  Slocum knew it was time to clear out.

  8

  “We ‘found’ damn near eighty head of cattle, Pa,” Caleb Tewksbury said proudly. Slocum tried to ignore the man’s glee and couldn’t. He wasn’t above a little rustling himself, but the Tewksburys and Graham had it all wrong. Stealing from someone who knew you were responsible was well nigh loco.

  “Run the brands quick-like,” Tewksbury said. “I don’t want none of them beeves lookin’ like they been grazin’ on Graham grass. You hear me?”

  “I do, Pa. I already got an iron heatin’. You want to help, Slocum?”

  “I don’t think so,” Slocum said.

  “Slocum here’s gettin’ a little squeamish. He wants his cows so he can be on the trail. Make sure they’re all our brands,” Tewksbury said.

  “Not a run brand, either,” Slocum said harshly. “Waltzing into Prescott with stolen cattle for sale is a sure way to get my neck stretched.”

  “The sheriff’s not a bad sort,” Tewksbury said, “but he is gettin’ tired of dealin’ with Graham.”

  “Those cattle up in the valley,” Slocum said. “I’ll cut out my due from those.”

  “Suit yerself, Slocum,” Tewksbury said. He stretched and yawned mightily. “I need to get some sleep. But I’m powerful hungry. Where’s Lydia?”

  “Ain’t seen her, Pa,” Caleb said. “She must be in bed already.”

  Slocum wondered how much of the illegal dealings Lydia knew about. She was no fool, but Tewksbury could be mighty sly and obviously kept a great deal from her. Slocum smiled as he thought of the times he had spent with Lydia. Such furtiveness must be inherited, because she had managed to keep her affairs secret from her father. At least Slocum hoped she had. He had the feeling that Tewksbury would be quick to use that shotgun of his on anyone sniffing around his daughter.

  After he tended his mare, Slocum walked to the bunkhouse. He could hardly keep his eyes open but knew he had to be up in an hour or two and hit the trail. If he lingered, he might never get out of the Tonto Basin. He dropped flat on his back, staring up at the bunkhouse ceiling. He was drifting off to sleep when the door was flung open and banged hard against the wall.

  Slocum’s reactions were slowed by exhaustion, but he still had his six-shooter out, cocked and pointed at the man standing in the door.

  “What is it, Caleb?”

  “She’s not here, Slocum. She’s gone. Lydia’s nowhere to be found.”

  “Well, she’s not here, either,” Slocum said, lowering the hammer and tucking his Colt away in its holster.

  “Pa wants to see you right now, Slocum. Please.”

  Slocum growled like a bear as he sat up. It took him a few minutes to get his boots back on and his gunbelt slung. By the time he reached the ranch house, he was fuming mad.

  His anger died when he saw Tewksbury’s face. The man was pale under his weathered skin and his hand shook as he lifted a tin cup and drank from it.

  “She’s gone, Slocum. They got her. That son of a bitch Graham’s got her.”

  “How do you know that?” Slocum asked. He pulled up a chair and sank onto it. Every line on Tewksbury’s leathery face showed concern. Not for the first time Slocum wondered if the man was playing him for a fool. If he was this time, he was doing a great job.

  “She’s always here. Where else’d she go?”

  “There’s no telling,” Slocum said. “Maybe her horse ran off and she went after it?”

  “Star’s still in the corral, but another horse is missing—one that you just broke. Ain’t no reason fer her to take it and leave Star.”

  “I’ll scout around,” Slocum said. “You stay here. I’ve had more than enough of your tall tales for one night.”

  “The others, those was mostly made up, Slocum, but not this. I’d never josh around ’bout Lydia like this.”

  Slocum had to believe him. Stride long, he went to the corral behind the barn and quickly located Star. The other horses in the corral had been saddle broke before Slocum showed up. They had put one newly broke horse in with the others to get it used to the notion of men carrying saddles and tack around it. The other four he had broken were in another corral. Slocum climbed to the top rail and peered at them. All were there. The only horse missing was the new one from this pen.

  He jumped to the ground and walked around the gate hunting for Lydia’s distinctively small boot print. He didn’t find it, but there were several larger, deeper ones both outside and just inside the corral. Dropping to his knees, he fumbled out a lucifer and lit it to better examine the prints. The flickering light revealed that at least three men had recently entered the corral. Since Caleb had the rest of the hands from the Circle T with him on his rustling expedition, that didn’t leave a whole lot to the imagination.

  Slocum followed what he thought was the right set of hoofprints to the far side of the barn. When he saw the small prints here, he sat heavily and stared. It took a few minutes for him to reconstruct what must have happened. Three men brought the newly saddle-broken horse around.

  Three others had escorted Lydia from the house and held her here until she mounted. Then they rode off. The best he could tell, seven horses had left but th
ere was no way to tell how many had ridden onto the Circle T.

  “They got her, don’t they?”

  Slocum looked up at Tewksbury.

  “They rode that way,” Slocum said, pointing north. “We might have just missed them as we returned, though they look to be angling away.”

  “Toward Graham’s spread.”

  “They might have taken her a couple hours ago but not longer than that,” Slocum said.

  “I’ll get Caleb and the others and go fetch her. That sidewinder’s not keepin’ my little girl!”

  “Hold on, Tewksbury. You go barging onto Graham’s land and he will gun you down. That might be what he intends. Lydia might be bait to get you onto his property so he’ll have some standing with the law.” This sounded hollow even to Slocum. Graham and Tewksbury weren’t that subtle, and laying ambushes for each other was out of the question. They were like two elk in rut, banging antlers in all-out fighting, and nothing less than death would end the battle.

  “I ain’t lettin’ her rot there. There’s no tellin’ what horrible thing Graham would do to her!”

  “How many men does Graham have? Including Murphy and the one that probably ran off after I shot him.”

  “A dozen, maybe more. And there’s Mrs. Graham.”

  Slocum looked sharply at Tewksbury. Why mention Graham’s wife at all?

  “I gotta go, Slocum.”

  “Stay here, for a while. I’ll scout around and see if there might not be a way of getting Lydia away without swapping a lot of lead.”

  “I want to kill him!”

  “Fine, kill him, but is his life more important to you than your daughter’s?”

  “No, but Graham—”

  “If I’m not back by sundown, do whatever you want.” Slocum forestalled more argument by holding up his hand. “Think about it. If Graham wanted Lydia dead, he could have shot her here. Or if he wanted to rape her, there was plenty of opportunity here for that, too. I suspect he wants to hold her hostage, probably to get his cattle back.”

  “He can’t have ’em!”

  “Shut up,” Slocum said coldly. “If I have to, I’ll trade him this entire damned ranch for Lydia being released unharmed.”

  “No, yes, I see what yer gettin’ at, Slocum, and yer right.”

  “Bring me a couple horses. I’ll take my mare along, but I want a pair of rested horses, in case they’re needed for a quick getaway.”

  “Git her back safe and sound,” Tewksbury said. “And I don’t care if you plug Graham.”

  Slocum wondered how being dead and burning in hell could be any worse than this.

  Sneaking into the Graham ranch would be hard. Slocum rode to the edge of a stock tank and looked across it to the Graham ranch house. More than a dozen men bustled about doing their chores. Another pair were posted as sentries near the house’s front door, but they weren’t up to the job. They sat together, passing a cigarette back and forth between them and feeling comfortable in the middle of Graham’s little empire.

  Slocum dismounted and let his three horses have their fill before leading them away to a nearby wooded area. From here it was a half mile to the house with nothing but level grassland. Even if he got Lydia out of the house, returning to the horses would be difficult. And in the middle of the day it would be impossible. Slocum chafed at any delay, since he had gotten the promise from Tewksbury to wait only until dark. Slocum had no doubt the rancher would come galloping down the road, shotgun blazing. Men would die. Probably Tewksbury but also his daughter.

  This wasn’t Slocum’s fight, but he felt obligated to get Lydia out of this jam. He had saved her before from the Apaches, and doing it again from a white man shouldn’t be as hard. But it was.

  Patience had always been a virtue that worked in Slocum’s favor. Rather than rush in like Tewksbury would do, Slocum sat, watched and guessed what Graham might do. After the noon meal, he saw a small army of men ride out. Judging from the way they rode, they were going out to tend a herd and round up strays. They might even be working on fences, though he saw none of them with wire or equipment.

  “Time to do something other than sit on my butt,” Slocum said, brushing himself off. He left the horse he had ridden and took the two fresh mounts, knowing speed might be his savior getting away from the Graham house. The two guards napped in the afternoon heat and didn’t see Slocum riding up until he was almost on top of them. One stirred and rubbed his eyes.

  “Got a message for the boss. Is Mr. Graham inside?” Slocum saw that this easy familiarity lulled the guards. One snored loudly, and the one who had stirred made a vague gesture toward the front door.

  “He’s inside? Good, thanks.” Slocum waved to the man and looped the reins of the horses through a ring set on a post. He hesitated at the last step before going onto the porch, to be certain the guard wasn’t going to shoot him in the back. The man snored as loudly as his partner.

  Slocum went to the door, tested the latch and then opened it slowly to avoid any creaking of the hinges. The day was warm outside, but the interior of the house was cool and inviting. With a smooth motion, Slocum slid his six-gun from the holster and looked around for Tom Graham. He had taken only two steps into the house when a door opened.

  “Freeze,” Slocum said, aiming the six-shooter directly at Graham. The rancher took a step back, but when Slocum cocked the pistol he did as he was told.

  “Didn’t think I’d see you again. You’re goin’ be pushin’ up daisies, comin’ here like this.”

  “I came for Lydia Tewksbury,” Slocum said. Graham’s eyebrows arched and he started to say something but no words came out. The reaction puzzled Slocum. “Where is she?”

  “Back there,” Graham said. “But she’s not goin’ nowhere.”

  “Where’s your wife?” Again Slocum was baffled at the rancher’s expression.

  “Gone for the day. Won’t be back until late tonight.” Graham summoned up his courage and said more belligerently, “You givin’ me back my beeves? The ones you stole last night.”

  “No matter what rustling went on,” Slocum said, “that’s no excuse to kidnap a young woman like that.”

  “Kidnap?” Graham laughed harshly. “Call it what you will. I want my cattle back.”

  “I’ll see that Tewksbury returns them. You can send a couple cowboys to the road in front of his spread tomorrow at dawn. The cattle will be waiting—if Lydia’s not been hurt.”

  “She’s fit as a fiddle,” Graham said. Again Slocum wondered at the rancher’s attitude.

  “Come on out into the room,” Slocum said, “and get down on your knees.” Slocum waited for Graham to obey, then looked into the room beyond. Lydia sat on the bed, calm as could be. She looked up when he poked his head in.

  “John!”

  “Come on. I’m getting you out of here. Your pa’s been worried sick when he found you were missing.”

  “But you came to fetch me,” she said. “You’re so brave!” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. Slocum pushed her away in time to turn and get Graham back into his sights. The man had begun edging toward the door to the porch.

  “Don’t make me cut you down,” Slocum said. “If you don’t like the deal, I can renegotiate it right now. With a slug.”

  “Go on, get out of here,” Graham said.

  “You look kinda nice down on your knees like that, Mr. Graham,” Lydia said. “In fact, that’s where you ought to be all the time.”

  “Get going,” Slocum said, pushing her toward the door. “I might have to shoot him if he tries to call out to a pair of guards posted outside.”

  “You didn’t kill them?” Graham snarled like a cougar. “I’ll skin them both alive lettin’ you sneak up on me like this.”

  Slocum took two quick steps and swung his pistol, landing the hard steel barrel on the side of Graham’s head. He fell heavily to the floor and lay still.

  “John, you didn’t have to—”

  “Come on, Lydia. I had to keep him
quiet. And you don’t make a sound when we get outside. Get on your horse and ride out slowly. If you do anything to draw attention, there’ll be a whole passel of men dying.”

  “I wouldn’t want one of them to be you, John. I wouldn’t.”

  “Don’t look at the guards. Don’t make any sudden noise,” Slocum said. His hand twitched as he longed to turn his six-shooter on the two sleeping guards and plug them. He and Lydia would have their backs to the men for some time as they went to the horses and rode away.

  “I’m nervous, John,” she said.

  “Your horse is saddled and ready.” Slocum was glad he had switched his saddle to the fresh horse before riding in. He waited a moment, to be sure Lydia got her seat, before he swung into the saddle. Neither of the guards stirred. Slocum inclined his head in the direction of the wooded patch where he had left the other horse. It might be pay enough for getting Lydia free, but losing even one horse he didn’t have to rankled.

  “We made it,” the woman said with a deep sigh.

  The words were hardly out of her mouth when Tom Graham stumbled from the house, yelling for his men.

  “Ride!” Slocum called. “Hard!”

  Heads down, they galloped away, but the hail of bullets Slocum expected never came. He did hear sounds that told him Graham and his sleepy guards were saddling up to come after them.

  “My horse is tiring fast, John,” Lydia told him when they were almost at the wooded area where the other horse cropped at grass. It looked up curiously as Slocum slowed, reached down and scooped up the reins. A quick tug got the horse moving reluctantly from its mid-afternoon repast.

  “Here,” Slocum said, tossing the reins to her. “Ride as hard as you can until the horse you’re on starts to stumble. Switch to this horse. It’s all rested. Get on back to your pa as fast as you can and talk him out of doing anything dumb.”

  “What might that be?”

  “He was going to launch an attack on Graham and his men. Didn’t matter he would be outnumbered three to one. I made him promise to hold off until sundown, but if I know him, he’s already on the road with that shotgun just itching to fire it into Graham’s face.”