Texas Flat by Ray Hogan

Author:Ray Hogan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blackstone Publishing
Published: 2018-04-02T16:02:41+00:00

XXII

Twelve days later Dave Bradford rode onto the hardpack fronting JJ Farman’s ranch house. He was gray with dust, sweat stained, and weariness was a heavy burden riding his shoulders. But there was no diminution of the purpose that burned within him.

It was near midday. He pulled the black, which had leaned out into a pretty fair trail horse, to a halt directly in front of the house.

“Farman!” he shouted.

A chair scraped against the floor inside. A moment later the screen door was flung back, and the rancher stood framed in the opening. Vague motion at the corner of the building caught Dave’s eye, and glancing to that point, he saw two J-Bar-J cowpunchers easing into view. He dropped a hand to the pistol on his hip. They froze instantly.

Farman was staring at him, disbelief filling his features. He recovered, folded his arms across his chest, and moved to the edge of the porch.

“What the hell do you want?” he demanded.

“Letting you know something. The deal you cooked up to keep me from crossing Texas Flat didn’t work. Herd’s been sold, and I’ve got the cash here in my pocket.”

“So?”

“Your gun hawks are laying in Boot Hill in Wichita … both of them. Rest of the bunch you sent to stop me are in jail there … waiting to be tried for murder, rustling, and horse stealing.”

JJ Farman’s expression did not change.

“Three of my men are dead,” Bradford continued. “Casey and Macklin squares me for two of them. You’re elected to be number three if I ever catch you on Texas Flat again. That clear?”

The rancher’s face was now turning red slowly. “You can’t keep me off! It’s open range.”

“Not what you told me and my friends. It’s open, and it’s going to stay open to everybody but you and J-Bar-J cattle. You tried keeping us off. I’m turning it around and keeping you off … from here on.”

Abruptly Bradford wheeled the black around and, with a warning glance at the two cowhands still lounging against the corner of the house, rode from the yard.

It was a long, tense minute, moving off, his back to the rancher and his hired hands. Farman had been wearing no gun, but both cowpunchers were armed, and he sat his saddle in rigid anticipation, ready to whirl at the first intuitive impulse, pistol firing. But he gained the end of the cleared ground and cut in behind the tamarisk windbreak without incident.

He breathed deeper. It had, perhaps, been a damned fool thing to do, but he felt it necessary. Farman had to be told that he’d failed and made to realize he was not feared. It was the only way to keep Texas Flat open for all to use.

Unless—Dave paused on the crest of a hill south of Farman’s and looked back. The rancher was a proud man who did not know how to accept defeat. He could make a final desperate attempt to salvage that pride and preserve his autocratic stature. It would be like him.

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