CHAPTER IV.

"ASSASSINATED, SIR, ASSASSINATED!"

A tableau of stoicism was presented as Judge Tarleton rode up and stopped. The old planter had a gun on his hip. Railroad Ross stood like a block of granite, looking square at the visitor. Randy stood by his father's side. Both were armed, but no hostile gesture was made.

The young man's lips were drawn in a hard line. He knew that the Tarleton family had merely tolerated him as Zella's suitor, because she was the only daughter of the house, and usually had her way. His standing there, his hope of winning Zella had long hung by a slender thread.

What was Judge Tarleton's purpose? Would what the old planter had to say sever that thread? Worse still, would it sever the friendly relations between the two old families? He was not left long in doubt.

"Good morning, judge," greeted Railroad. "Won't you get down and come in?"

"No, sir, I won't get down," returned the judge, ignoring the greeting. "I won't go into your house now, and I don't know that I ever shall. I came over here to get some information about the murder of my son."

As he sat there on his horse, Judge Tarleton was the personification of family pride and resentment against a world in which any untoward thing could happen to a Tarleton. Railroad stood calmly looking his neighbor over, from his gray head crowned by a broad black hat, to his fine morocco-topped boots.

Tarleton's cheeks glistened from a fresh shave. He shaved from his temples to a line running from the mustache back to the hinge of the jaw, and he shaved it every day. Below that line was a neatly trimmed beard that had once been black.

The high-bridged nose and other outstanding features that marked Zella and Ben were there. His very air and bearing bespoke the patrician. It said plainly that he didn't know and he didn't care a hang whether he was going to meet with hostility at the Railroad or not. When Ross didn't speak, he rapped out:

"Well, what have you got to say?" much as if the old ranchman had been a slave.

Railroad's face was as fixed as granite, and one expected it to break if he opened his mouth.

"I have to say that murder is a pretty hard word to use about that killing."

"That's what it was. Assassinated, sir, assassinated! I know my people. No Tarleton ever turned his back in a fight. Ben was murdered. Shot in the back by a cowardly assassin."

"That's pretty hard talk, judge. I don't think Ben was assassinated, because there ain't any assassins in my outfit. I wish you could see yo' way to change that word to something else."

"I'll change nothing! The boy was shot in the back. He wasn't fighting. His gun was still in the holster and hadn't been fired. I don't charge you with murder. I've known you a long time. You're rough, but I've found you square. All I want is for you to tell me who killed Ben. My sons and I will attend to the rest."

The tableau turned now. Railroad's lips were a grim line. Finally, he spoke:

* * * * *

"I'm sorry, judge, but I don't know. You haven't asked me how this mess came up, but I'm going to tell you. Bell Holderness and his gang comes here to make trouble and they made it. They killed one of my boys cold. Naturally, I and my men opened on 'em, and they run. I ain't charging nothing against Ben. He was with the Holderness boys and when they ran, he did, and he was killed. Who killed him, I can't say. Several of us were shooting. They were a good distance from us, their horses were running, and ours were running. Whoever killed him was shooting at the crowd and happened to hit Ben."

"So, as near as you can come to it, your outfit murdered Ben?" and Tarleton's lips curled in a silent snarl.

"No, I don't put it that way. Ben was a wild boy. He got in bad company, and somebody in my outfit shot him. I'm sorry, for I don't think Ben had anything against me or the Railroad outfit."

"You admit the killing then! To me and my boys it was murder, and we have our own way of settling with murderers, whether it is one or a hundred. Lav and Cliff wanted to come with me, but I told them no. If you was friendly, and could explain and help us get the murderer, I could do more alone. If you wasn't friendly, I was enough to be shot in the back."

"That's more hard talk, judge," pleaded Railroad. "I, nor ary man in my outfit, ain't got a thing ag'in' you and your boys. Not one of us had anything ag'in' Ben. I've got trouble enough with the Holderness boys 'thout quarrelling with a family that's been friendly and my neighbors for years."

"Never mind that," snapped Tarleton. "I don't feel any blame for being friendly to you. Sometimes it takes a good many years to find people out." Then the judge shifted his glance to Randy's set face. "You have been treated as a friend and an equal at my house, young man. That's past. If you come there again, you come as one of the assassins of my son, and will be treated accordingly."

Randy winced, but didn't speak. He couldn't trust himself. Anyway, Railroad didn't give him a chance.

"Judge Tarleton," he said, as his brows knit, "you've made yourself pretty plain, and I don't know that talking more could do any good. If any trouble comes up between your family and my outfit, you'll have to start it."

"It's already up, sir!" and Tarleton whirled his horse and rode away.

"Too bad!" said Railroad to his son.

"Yes, it is too bad," admitted Randy, "but if nothing else will do them--"

"Wait a minute, Randy. I want to say a word to all of you. Judge Tarleton and his boys are good men--among the best in the country. I want every one of you to keep out of trouble with them if you possibly can without running from them. Mount and ride now, but keep your eyes open."

Without a word, Randy mounted and rode away, with Dolly by his side, and Sank and Con following at a little distance. They were heading toward the round-up grounds. Randy wasn't going to wait for a further demonstration from the Holderness gang. He was going to see what he could find along the river, where Leck and Pate had been killed.

When they reached the round-up ground, they saw Judge Tarleton look back, as he entered the timber on the trail that led up the river. He wasn't a half mile ahead of them, and was riding slowly, apparently to show that he wasn't afraid.

They rode on, entered the timber, and followed on up the trail. When a quarter of a mile from the narrows, they heard a single shot.

"Good God! They've shot the judge!" gasped Randy, and galloped on up the trail, with Dolly at his heels.

* * * * *

Coming out on the river bank, where they could see far ahead, they saw a horseman, sagging in his saddle and clinging desperately to the saddle horn. They knew it was Judge Tarleton, but as Randy quickened his speed to go to the old planter's assistance, a gun cracked across the river. Randy's horse reared and crashed to the earth. He rolled free and came up behind a big cottonwood tree.

Dolly spurred his horse behind a thicket, dismounted and crept to the river bank. Something moved in the thicket on the other side of the stream. Dolly's carbine cracked, and a terrible yell came from the thicket. After that, silence.

"I don't know whether you ought to have done that or not, Dolly," said Randy. "You didn't see the man that shot at me, and you might shoot the wrong man."

Dolly looked at him with an odd glint in his blue eyes.

"See here now, Randy. Let's you and me get this straight before we go any further. Do we let that Holderness gang pot us, or don't we? If we're going to fight back, I'll stay with you. If we're going to be potted, why, I ain't ready to be potted, that's all."

"Oh, I mean to fight back and fight hard. I just want it to be in the open."

"Well, it won't be. That gang aims to bushwhack us. Do you know what that fellow's done for you?"

"Why, no, except that he missed me, hit my horse, and left me afoot."

"He's done a heap more than that. He's shot old Judge Tarleton, and the Tarleton boys will lay it on the Railroad outfit. The judge saw us following him, and if he gets home alive, which he probably will, he'll tell 'em it was us."

"Then let me have your horse, and I'll go on and catch up with the judge and tell him better."

"Yes, and he'd believe you, just like you'd believe the biggest liar you ever saw in your life. Now you listen to me. You got to do something more than just not be afraid. You got to use your head in this mess. I been thinking. The Holderness gang ain't just trying to square a mess that happened a hundred years ago. I don't know what they're after, but it's something else. Had you thought of what a hell of a long shot for a six-shooter it was from the Railroad outfit to where that gang went into the woods and Ben Tarleton fell?"

"Why, no. What of it?"

"Well, when Sank and me was out after the remuda yesterday evening, we met Con. He showed us where Mr. Ross and the boys turned back and it's full two hundred yards from there to where Ben fell!"

"I don't see--"

"I don't either, but I'm guessing. I don't believe anybody hit Ben that far with a six-shooter. I believe Bell Holderness shot Ben in the back, as they ran away."

"Bell did! Why would Bell kill one of his own gang?"

"Ben didn't exactly belong. He wasn't that sort. Couldn't be. He probably didn't know what the Holderness boys were up to when they went to the round-up. Maybe he said something about the killing of Asa. It might be, and likely was, that Bell simply figured that if Ben was killed at your round-up, it would put the Tarletons against you, instead of against them, as they would have been if Ben hadn't been killed."

"Dolly, do you suppose--"

"Yes, I suppose a whole lot of things; and among 'em, I suppose we better get your saddle off'n that dead broncho and get away from here."

* * * * *

Sank and Con had heard the shots, but misjudged the direction. They came up just as Randy was ready to mount behind Dolly for the return to the ranch. They all returned to the edge of the prairie. Dolly brought a fresh mount for Randy, and then they went into a general discussion of the situation.

Con Bates had been with the Railroad as far back as Randy could remember. He was a typical leather face, and talked so little that people often wondered if he was dumb. He sat on his heels, listening, as the others talked. He heard Dolly's suggestion as to Bell Holderness having shot Ben. He listened to everything and said nothing. Finally, Randy turned to him.

"Con, you've been in many a mess like this. What do you think is the best way to handle it?"

"I been in plenty of messes," growled the wrinkled old puncher, "but none like this. They ain't no two alike. Besides that, I've never been in one when Bell Holderness was ramrodding the other side of the fight."

"A fight's a fight, ain't it?"

"Yes. Sometimes it's a dozen. This is apt to be that kind before it's over. I've known Bell Holderness all his life. He never made a horse trade in his life that he didn't plan every move in it before he said a word. When he brought his gang over here and killed Asa, he had all his plans made. He knows now that Asa and Pate are out of the way. He knows Railroad is too old to push the fight, and he thinks right now that he knows what you'll do."

"I guess he's mistaken about that," said Randy, with a wintry smile, "for I don't know myself."

"Maybe not, but you ain't done what he thought you would, and I don't believe you will."

"What was that?"

"He thought you'd go to Willow Mills and get drunk, and he'd pick a quarrel with you and kill you. Likely he still thinks so."

Randy shot a glance at Dolly, and then:

"He'll miss his guess, if he does. I may go to Willow Mills, but if Bell, or anybody else kills me, he'll kill me sober, and I'll be at the killing."

They rode south, up the hill, and out onto the prairie. The four of them were not together all the time. When noon came, Randy and Dolly stopped under a lone hackberry tree, where they could see a considerable distance in every direction. They took the lunch from their saddle pockets and ate it. Randy was silent and thoughtful. At last he spoke:

* * * * *

"Dolly, you look like a boy, but I know you're a lot older than I am. Anyway, you've been a man longer, for I never was a man until you pulled me out of the Cottonwood and made a man of me. I need help badly. We can't just sit still until they push us over."

"No, I reckon not," grinned Dolly, "but I got a picture of the one that pushes you over while you're still alive. You're so damn fightin' mad right now, Randy, that yore boots are scorching, and you don't know what's the matter with you. Way I look at it is this. Holderness is ahead of the game. He's got three of the Railroad outfit. He's got Ben Tarleton dead and the old judge shot, and got it all laid on us."

"I've proved to myself that I'm not afraid, Dolly, and now I'm ready for anything. If I could just see a place where we could strike, and strike hard, I'm rearing to break Bell's luck. You're right about me being mad."

They rode on back toward the ranch late in the afternoon. They were within half a mile of where Sank and Dolly hazed the band of cattle over the rimrock the day of the round-up, when they saw two riders, each leading a horse, coming in from the west.

"Why, that's Cub and Shorty. I wonder--" and Randy stopped.

"Them two and Keech and Brazos Jim went to town after the mail. I heard Mr. Ross tell 'em to go and for four of 'em to go together."

"Another mistake," said Randy, musingly. "Looked like a dare."

"Looks to me like somebody taken it up. Let's see what they got to say. What's happened, Shorty?"

"Nothing much," drawled the tallest puncher in the outfit, who had been dubbed Shorty. "We rides into town a little after noon. Cub and me goes to the post office, and Keech and Brazos went over to the Cottonwood to wait for us. When we got to the Cottonwood, Keech was layin' on the floor dead, and Brazos, he was down and bleedin'.

"As we stepped in to the place two guns went into our faces, and we was kindly invited to reach for the sky. We reached. Behind one of them guns was Lav Tarleton, and behind the other was Bell Holderness."

"No!"

"Yes, and a right smart of it. Then we got some news. We found out that the whole Railroad outfit confessed to murder. We found out just what we were. We found out that you, Randy, shot old Judge Tarleton in the back. Then we got turned loose, without our guns, to bring the glad tidings that unless Railroad--I mean Mr. Ross--would give up Randy and the man that kilt Ben, they was goin' to be war."

"'Bout thirty days late with that news," said Dolly. "Everybody that ain't blind or crazy, knew it all."

"What did they kill Keech and Brazos for?" asked Randy.

"Not a thing in the world. Keech killed one of Bell's gang, and Brazos two. That was all. We heard the shooting, and thought it was just in fun--but it wasn't."

"Where did Bell and Lav go?" asked Randy.

"They shooed us down the lane as far as the big house. Then they turned us loose to drift, and they went in the house."

"In the house! Bell Holderness went in Tarleton's house?"

It was what Holderness had been trying to get the right to do, ever since Zella became grown. Randy's world was falling about his ears.