The Collected Short Stories of Louis L'Amour: Vol 3 Part 50

"You're tellin' me?" Sam brought two sacks to the counter. "They'd kill me after this."

"Then go saddle two horses. One for yourself and one for the lady."

"Miss," Clanahan gestured to her, "write him out a bill of sale to the claim designated on that map."

"But-" Elaine started a protest, then stifled it at Red's sudden impatience.

"Hurry!" he said angrily. "Do what I tell you!"

Red Clanahan saw Sam come around the building with the saddled horses, and yelled at him: "Tie Fallon," he said. "But let Johnson alone. By the time he gets Fallon loose and that shoulder fixed, we'll be too far off. And if he follows, we'll kill him."

Johnson took the map and the bill of sale, smiling suddenly. "Maybe it was worth a bullet-shot shoulder," he said. "That's a rich claim."

Sam picked up the gold and sacked it into the saddle bags. Then he picked up the lunch he had packed earlier, and two hastily filled canteens.

In the saddle, Red said hoa.r.s.ely, "Ride fast now! Get out of sight!"

Elaine glanced at him and was shocked by the sudden pallor of his face. "You! You're hurt!" she cried.

His wide face creased in a grin. "Sure! But I didn't dare let those hombres guess it. Keep goin' a few miles. I can stick it."

Beside a stream they paused and bandaged his wound. It was a deep gouge in the side, from which he had bled freely. He watched the girl work over it with quick, sure fingers.

"You'd do to take along, ma'am. You're sure handy."

"I worked for a doctor."

Back in the saddle, they switched off the trail and headed up through the timber.

Sam rode beside them, saying nothing. His round face was solemn.

"By the way," Red said, "I better tell you. I looked at your dad's claim. And he was wrong, ma'am. It wasn't worth a million. It wasn't worth scarcely anything."

Shocked, she looked around at him. "What do you mean?"

"Your dad struck a pocket of free gold. It was richer than all get-out, but your dad was no minin' man. There ain't a thousand dollars left in that pocket."

"Then-"

"Then if you'd kept it, you'd have had nothing but hard work and nothin' more. You got fifteen thousand."

"But I thought-"

Red chuckled. "Ma'am," he said, "I never stole from no woman. I just figured those hombres wanted that claim so bad, they should have it. "

"The trail," he pointed north, "goes that way. You take her to town, will you, Sam?"

The older man nodded. "Where are you headed, Red? The Roost?"

Clanahan glanced at him, wry humor in his eyes.

"Yeah. You know me?"

"Sure. I seen you once before, in Tascosa."

Clanahan glanced briefly at the girl. "Take it easy with that money, ma'am." He lifted a hand. "So long."

The flanks of the horse gleamed black a time or two among the trees. t Elaine stared after him, her eyes wide and tear-filled.

"He-he is a good man, isn't he?" she said softly.

"Yeah, a real good man," Sam answered.

"What did you mean? The Roost?"

Sam rode on in silence;, then he said, "Robber's Roost, ma'am. It's a hangout for outlaws up in the Utah canyon country. The way he rode will take him there."

"You knew him?"

"By sight, ma'am. His name's Red Clanahan, and they say he's killed nineteen men. It's said that he is a real badman."

"A good badman, ' she said, and looked again at where the horse had vanished in. the trees. Onee, far on a blue-misted ridge she thought she saw movement, a rider outlined briefly on the horizon. And then it was gone.

She might have been mistaken.

end.