The First Shot by E. C. Tubb

Author:E. C. Tubb
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Spencer Ltd
Published: 1957-05-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

Clive Leyburn was standing at the corral when Daren came from the bunkhouse. The foreman was dressed in his best, his guns hanging low and tied to his thighs, his silk shirt matching his bandanna, a rattlesnake skin around his stetson and his high boots ornamented with bead-work. He carried a quirt in one hand and touched it to the brim of his hat as he saw the boss of the Flying W.

"Hi, Clive. Just going into town. Any messages?"

"No."

"Not even the usual?" Daren glanced to where a group of cowpunchers stood against the fence post of the corral. Benson was among them. He met Daren's stare, his eyes without expression.

"No." Clive scowled at the horses in the corral.

"You getting soft?" Daren's expression didn't alter but his voice held a sneer. "Or maybe you figure that working Rex Willard over a little was good enough to pay for John's death."

"Leave John out of this."

"Why not?" Daren shrugged. "He died with a bullet in the back, sure, let's forget him. Let's forget the living too, the man who shot him and stole your money."

"I got paid."

"Dan Willard paid you money. Did he give you a little extra to make you forget the death of your brother?"

"Watch it, Daren." Clive stared at the foreman, his rugged face hard, his thick body set as for trouble. "Don't let that tongue of yours run away with you."

"Maybe you're the one to remember that." Daren stepped closer. "You're in a spot, Clive, and you know it. You've borrowed money on this spread and the only way you can hang on to the Flying W is to meet it when it's due. Can you do it?"

"That's my business."

"Sure, so you can manage on your own. Maybe you can meet that note but if you do you'll wind up like old man Willard, drunk and broke and getting drunker all the time." Daren smiled and called to one of the cowpunchers. "Lem, saddle my horse, will you?"

"Sure, Daren." The man jumped to obey. He went into the corral, caught the foreman's horse, saddled it, tightened the cinches and led it towards the ramrod. "Here it is, Daren."

The foreman nodded, not answering the cowpuncher. Lem hesitated, seemed about to say something then turned away. Daren looked after him then spat on the ground.

"No guts," he said.

"Maybe he wants to keep his job," said Clive.

"Eating dirt's no way to hang on to a job." The foreman spat again. "Better get rid of him and Benson too."

"I do all the firing and hiring around here," reminded Clive. "Don't push me too far, Daren. I may remember that I'm the boss and I'm the one to say what goes."

"You made me ramrod for a reason," said Daren coldly. "You and me both know that reason. You're big, Clive, and you look tough but we both know that deep down inside you're weak. John used to back you and you got by. Now I back you. Without me you'd make it up with old man Willard.

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