Sudden--Troubleshooter (A Sudden Western) #5 (3 page)

‘
Holy cow, Jim,’ breathed
Henry. ‘I never seen anything like it!’

Green’s smile was wintry
again. He looked older and tired, but he smiled as he saw the
youngster’s shining eyes.

‘
Philadelphia,’ he said. ‘There ain’t no secret to it. Given
good reflexes an’ plenty o’ practice, most fellers can learn to
shoot pretty good. What counts is not so much knowin’ how but
knowin’
when
to use a gun.’

The youngster nodded. ‘I
get yu, Jim.’

‘
Yu listen to me, kid.
Don’t never pull a gun unless yu got to; and when yu got to, aim to
shoot. Will yu remember that?’

‘
Shore, Jim,’ the lad
agreed. ‘I swear it.’

‘
Good,’ nodded Green. ‘Now
let’s get that belt right for a start.’ He adjusted the gun belt
around Philadelphia’s middle until the butt of the pistol hung
level with the lad’s mid-forearm. He stood by the youngster’s side
and demonstrated the movements of the draw, chanting the sequence
out aloud: ‘Draw, cock, aim―fire!’

‘
Point the barrel like a
finger,’ he told Philadelphia. ‘Yu ain’t got time to sight. Imagine
the gun-barrel is yore finger. Point it. Then fire.’

Together they went through
the routine again. Draw, cock, aim – fire; draw, cock, aim –fire.
Draw, cock, aim
–
fire. Green’s voice
chanted on and on as Philadelphia’s hand and arm grew heavier and
heavier. His mentor finally called a halt.

‘
Gosh, Jim, my arm feels
like it weighs about a ton,’ he confessed.

‘
Yo’re usin’ new muscles,’
Green told him. ‘Don’t worry: yu’ll get used to it.’

He stood to one side, eyeing his young
companion critically.

‘
Wal, yo’re as ready as
yu’ll ever be. Try her yoreself.’

Henry nodded, his eyes gleaming at the
prospect of testing his newly acquired knowledge. Already he had
the feel of the gun, and the adjustments Green had made to the belt
had made it feel as though it belonged about his waist. At a signal
from Green he drew smoothly, the hammer clicking on the empty
chamber.

‘
Pretty good,
Philadelphia,’ Green told him. ‘Ain’t much else I can teach yu; the
rest is all practice.’

Henry nodded. He drew the gun again, and
again. Pretty fast, he told himself.

‘
One final thing,’ Green
said. ‘We’ll draw together, see how much yu’ve learned.’

Henry nodded eagerly. ‘I
know I can’t match yu, Jim,’ he said. ‘But I aim to try, so watch
out.’

Green nodded, busy emptying
his own revolver. Henry meanwhile settled himself in the half
crouch that the puncher had shown him and, waiting until Green
nodded, called, ‘Draw!’

He had hardly touched the
butt of his gun when he found himself staring into the muzzle of
Green’s forty-five.

‘
I ain’t showin’ off,
Philadelphia,’ the cowboy told him. ‘I just want to impress on yu
the final lesson I was talkin’ about. If that had been for real,
yu’d have been on yore way to Boot Hill right now. Remember: yu’ll
allus meet someone who’s faster on the draw than yu are, so don’t
fool yoreself – not ever.’

He said this with such grim
authority that Philadelphia’s heart sank.

‘
Jim,’ he asked hesitantly,
‘did yu ever meet anyone faster’n yu?’

‘
I seen a few men I
wouldn’t have wanted to draw against, kid,’ Green told him.
‘Learnin’ when to keep yore gun in the holster’s durn near as
important as knowin’ when to pull her out. But that’s enough, I
reckon. We’d better be movin’ on if we want to reach Harris’s afore
nightfall. An’ keep that hawgleg unloaded while yo’re practicin’,
yu hear me? I don’t want yu shootin’ yoreself in the
laig.’

With a grimace, the youngster proceeded to
his horse and mounted, following his friend back on to the trail.
His mind was full of the fantastic display of shooting skill he had
just witnessed, and he vowed silently to practice and practice
until he could merit the unqualified praise of this tall, drawling
cowpuncher who had in such a short time replaced any hero he had
ever had.

The two riders traversed a wide, flat
prairie, moving steadily uphill now towards the hills ahead of
them. Off to the right a shimmer that looked almost like the sea
drew their attention.

‘
Desert,’ explained Green
succinctly. ‘Probably runs into badlands.’

The Mesquites were not much
more than rolling foothills skirting the base of a range of
mountains whose silvered tips they could see limned against the
dropping sun. These were the Yavapais where, in not too distant
time, the Apaches had lurked. From these mountains they had swept
down upon the plains below, raiding south into Mexico, looting and
killing, until the U.S. Army had subdued them and placed them on
reservations where, even today, they lived in sullen acceptance of
the white man’s laws.

The two riders found themselves crossing a
timber-line, and riding into the gloom of a heavy pine forest. The
keen scent of the green trees was strong in the evening air, the
shade and coolness doubly welcome after the heat of the open plain.
Ahead of them lay a junction; the trail dividing into four
tracks.

‘
Second
trail from the left, that bar-keep said,’ Green
recalled. ‘Better ride behind me,
Philadelphia.’

Some minutes later they
crested a bluff to see below them a small ranch house, constructed
of logs, smoke curling lazily from its tin chimney. They could see
men moving about in the open yard before the house. As they came
fully into view it seemed to Philadelphia that the men moved more
quickly, and one of them went into the house and emerged again. The
gleam of the late sun on metal was discernible.

‘
Take off yore gun belt an’
sling it on the pommel o’ yore saddle,’ Green told his companion,
suiting his own action to the words. Then, riding easily, his hands
in plain sight, he kneed his horse on towards the ranch below. As
they entered the ranch yard a thickset, bushy-browed individual
stepped in front of them, covering them unwaveringly with a
double-barreled shotgun.

‘
Hold it right there,’ he
commanded. ‘Johnstone – get their guns.’

A lanky fellow with fair
hair that fell over his eyes and grew long at his collar stepped
carefully forward and lifted the gun belts off the
pommels.

‘
Lookin’ for Jacob Harris,’
Green said cheerfully, as if no guns were in sight. ‘Might yu be
him?’ he asked the thickset man.

‘
Might be,’ allowed that
individual. ‘Depends who’s askin’.’

‘
Name’s Jim Green. Thisyere
youngster is my partner. He goes by the name o’ Philadelphia.
Feller in town name o’ Tyler said yu might have a job for two
willin’ workers.’

‘
Yu look a sight more like
fodder for the Saber, bucko,’ growled Harris. ‘Or maybe that’s
where yo’re from?’

‘
It might be but it ain’t,’
smiled Green, slipping easily from the saddle, hands still held at
chest height. ‘But seein’ yu got our guns, it ain’t goin’ to hurt
yu none to listen.’

‘
I’m listenin’,’ Harris
told him.

‘
Like I told yu, my name is
Green. I’m a stranger in these parts. Been ridin’ the chuckline
atween here an’ Tucson, an’ I’m down to my last few dollars. It’s
either work or starve, so I’m hopin’ for work, bein’ what yu might
call an optimist. The kid here is from Philadelphia, but his daddy
was a cowman. He’ll make a hand.’

The man named Johnstone sidled over to
Harris and murmured something inaudible to the newcomers. Harris
nodded.

‘
What Reb says is right,
mister,’ he told Green. ‘Yu sport two guns, an’ they look as if
they’ve been used plenty. How come yu ride out here instead of
tryin’ Gunnison at the Saber?’

‘
He gave Jim Dancy a
beatin’ in town, that’s why!’ burst out Philadelphia, unable to
contain himself.

Harris looked at Green in astonishment.

‘
Yu
did
what?’
He slapped his thigh. ‘By cracky, mister, if yu did that yo’re
the most welcome sight I’ve seen in many a long day. Is what the
kid says true?’

‘
Well, Dancy needed
pacifyin’ a mite,’ Green admitted. ‘He was set on marmalisin’
Philadelphia, an’ I kinda talked him out of it.’

‘
Yu shoulda seen him,’
enthused Philadelphia. ‘It was—’

‘
Shucks, kid, no call to
run off at the mouth about it,’ intervened Green. ‘If it’s okay
with yu, seh, I’d be glad to lower my arms afore they stick like
this.’

‘
Green, I’m beggin’ yore
pardon. Come on over here an’ set.’ Harris led the way to a bench
on the porch of the ranch house. ‘Yu, Reb, tell Susie to bring some
cawfee out here for these fellers.’ Johnstone rose and went into
the house. ‘Now, Mr. Green—’ Harris began.

‘—
Jim’s a sight easier,
seh,’ interposed the puncher.

‘
So be it, my boy, so be
it. My name’s Jacob, but purt’ nearly everyone in these parts calls
me Jake. Susie – that’s my daughter; yu’ll meet her just now –
keeps on tellin’ me I orta insist on Jacob like her Maw, God rest
her soul, used to prefer. I keep on forgettin’. Now then, Jim: yu
say yo’re lookin’ for work. Yo’re a cattleman, I take
it?’

‘
That’s correct, seh,’
Green told him. ‘I hail from Texas.’

‘
An’ the boy, here,’ boomed
Harris, ‘is he …?’

‘
Nope, he’s kinda
apprenticed, yu might say,’ the puncher replied. ‘He’ll work for
his food an’ a place to sleep an’ mebbe a few dollars to spend in
town, won’t yu, Philadelphia?’

The younger man opened his
mouth to frame an indignant protest at Green’s apparent endorsement
of legalized slavery, when at that moment they were interrupted by
the arrival of Jake Harris’s daughter, Susan. Not more than
eighteen, her lithe young body had all the natural lissom grace of
a young animal. Her neat shirt, jeans, and half-boots suited her
admirably, while the late sun caught traces of gold in the cropped
chestnut hair. Wide brown eyes, a slightly tip-tilted nose with a
faint dusting of freckles, and a well-shaped mouth completed a
picture that any man would have found attractive.

‘
Susie, thisyere is Jim
Green. He’s goin’ to work for us. The young sprout, too. Goes by
the name o’ Philadelphia, believe it or not. My daughter,
gents.’

‘
Gentlemen, I’m happy to
know you.’

Susan Harris’s voice was
low pitched and warm. She smiled and set down steaming mugs of
black coffee in front of them, affecting not to notice the
hypnotized stare and open mouth of Green’s companion.
Philadelphia’s reaction had not gone unnoticed by either Green nor
his new employer. Jake Harris clapped the boy on the shoulder and
shattered his reverie with jovial words.

‘
Son, yu ain’t the first
cowpoke to gawp at my gal, an’ I don’t reckon yu’ll be the last,
neither! Danged if she don’t get purtier every day!’

‘
She shore don’t hurt the
eyes none,’ Green agreed. Then to Philadelphia, ‘Yu was about to
say something afore Miss Susan arrove,’ he prompted.

The boy gulped, flushing
scarlet as he realized how completely he had betrayed himself.
Green’s smile told him the puncher was well aware that he had been
about to protest his ‘apprenticeship’ when Susan Harris appeared,
but seeking to spare his young friend’s feelings further, Green
asked a question of Harris.

‘
I run a small spread,
Jim,’ the old man said. ‘Nothing to rave about, but she’s more’n I
can handle alone. About seven hundred head. Up to now I ain’t been
able to get help. My neighbors pitch in at round-up time, but they
got their own places to look after.’

‘
That bartender Tyler said
yu was on the “one-o’-these-days” side,’ blurted
Philadelphia.

‘
Damned if he ain’t right,’
chuckled Harris. ‘I’m allus sayin’ to Susie that one o’ these days
we’ll spread a mite, an’ build up our herd. But we’ll never do it
without help. I can’t avoid feelin’ that yu boys would’a’ got a
better deal at the Saber. Gunnison pays top rates: I can’t match
that.’

‘
Who is this Gunnison,
anyway?’ asked Philadelphia. ‘All I heard when I was in town was
Gunnison said this, Gunnison did that, Gunnison wants the other. I
got the feelin’ he owned that town.’

‘
Durned if that ain’t half
true, boy,’ Harris admitted. ‘Lafe Gunnison is an old tyrant. Been
here since the days when Pete Kitchen was fightin’ Cochise’s bucks,
an’ he reckons Gawd gave him a special lien on the Yavapai valley.
I understand his feelin’s. He come out here when things was a
danged sight harder than they are now, an’ fought Apaches for his
land. He paid for it in blood an’ sweat, but he never took the
trouble to file on it legal an’ proper until after we moved in
here. Then it was too late to move us off. We’re entitled to this
land an’ we’re stayin’ till hell freezes over.’

‘
Y’all said a mouthful,
Jake,’ said Johnstone, who had come up while the older man was
talking. From his accent Green placed the man as a Southerner. ‘We
own this land legal, but Gunnison don’t aim to let that stand in
his way. He’s told us in so many words: get out or take the
consequences.’