Collection 1986 - The Trail To Crazy Man (v5.0) by Louis L’Amour

love? You talk about that all you want. Talk it to yourself. I want the girl, and I’m goin’ to have her. It doesn’t make any difference who says no, and that goes for Gene Baker, her, or you.”
    ____________
    B RUCE BARKOW STOOD flat-footed and pale. Suddenly he felt sick and empty. Here it was, then. He was through. Dan Shute had told him off, and in front of Pod Gomer. Out of the tail of his eye he could see the calm, yet cynical expression on Gomer’s face.
    He looked up, and he felt small under the flat, ironic gaze of Shute’s eyes.
    “All right, Dan, if that’s the way you feel. I expect we’d better part company.”
    Shute chuckled, and his voice was rough when he spoke.
    “No,” he said, “we don’t part company. You sit tight. You’re holdin’ that mortgage, and I want that land. You had a good idea there, Barkow, but you’re too weak-kneed to swing it. I’ll swing it, and maybe if you’re quiet and obey orders, I’ll see you get some of it.”
    Bruce Barkow glared at Shute. For the first time he knew what hatred was. Here, in a few minutes, he had been destroyed. This story would go the rounds, and before nightfall everyone in town would know that Barkow had been swept aside by Dan Shute, big, slow-talking Dan Shute, with his hard fists and his guns. Crushed, Barkow stared at Shute with hatred livid in his eyes.
    “You’ll go too far!” he said viciously.
    Shute shrugged. “You can live an’ come out of this with a few dollars,” he said calmly, “or you can die. I’d just as soon kill you, Barkow, as look at you.” He picked up his hat. “We had a nice thing. That shanghaiin’ idea was yours. Why you didn’t shoot him, I’ll never know. If you had, this Caradec would never have run into him at all and would never have come in here, stirrin’ things up. You could have foreclosed that mortgage, and we could be makin’ a deal on that oil now.”
    “Caradec don’t know anything about that,” Barkow protested.
    “Like sin he don’t!” Dan Shute sneered. “Caradec’s been watched by my men for days. He’s been wise there was somethin’ in the wind and he’s scouted all over that place. Well, he was down to the knob the other day, and he took a long look at that oil seepage. He’s no fool, Barkow.”
    Bruce Barkow looked up. “No,” he replied suddenly, “he’s not, and he’s a hand with a gun, too, Dan! He’s a hand with a gun! He took Boyne!”
    Shute shrugged. “Boyne was nothin’! I could have spanked him with his own gun. I’ll kill Caradec someday, but first I want to beat him. To beat him with my own hands!”
    He heaved himself out of the chair and stalked outside. For an instant, Barkow stared after him. Then his gaze shifted to Pod Gomer.
    The sheriff was absently whittling a small stick.
    “Well,” he said, “he told you.”
    CHAPTER XII
    “I Think I’ll Kill Bruce Barkow!”
    Hard and grim, Barkow’s mouth tightened. So Gomer was in it, too. He started to speak, then hesitated. Like Caradec, Gomer was no fool, and he, too, was a good hand with a gun. Barkow shrugged.
    “Dan sees things wrong,” he said. “I’ve still got an ace in the hole.” He looked at Gomer. “I’d like it better if you were on my side.”
    Pod Gomer shrugged. “I’m with the winner. My health is good. All I need is more money.”
    “You think Shute’s the winner?”
    “Don’t you?” Gomer asked. “He told you plenty, and you took it.”
    “Yes, I did, because I know I’m no match for him with a gun. Nor for you.” He studied the sheriff thoughtfully. “This is goin’ to be a nice thing, Pod. It would split well, two ways.”
    Gomer got up and snapped his knife shut. “You show me the color of some money,” he said, “and Dan Shute out, and we might talk. Also,” he added, “if you mention this to Dan, I’ll call you a liar in the street or in the National. I’ll make you use that gun.”
    “I won’t talk,” Barkow said. “Only, I’ve been