Diamond Buckow by A. J. Arnold

telling.”
    â€œMake it as short as you like, or as slow as you need,” came the resigned reply. “After all, I did ask.”
    Buck had time to think. In the last three days, it felt like he’d had too much time. He considered how much to tell this man who had saved his life, and had come to the conclusion that he owed Jake. But only Jake, and nobody else.
    He started with his fast ride out of San Antonio, and why he’d taken a horse that he had no title to. Then he described Glenn Saltwell ’s trail drive, and his own subsequent discovery that he was helping to move stolen cattle.
    Buck had to stop often for sips of water, and also to take rest periods for his voice. It sounded to Strickland’s ears like a crow with a sore throat. By late afternoon, Buck managed to get to the actual delivery of cattle to Glenn Saltwell. Jake could hear his anger at how he felt both the rustler and Henry Blough had used him. His voice was bitter as he concluded he’d tallied up and had still come out seventy dollars behind.
    Jake grunted, wondering about it all. He knew he was only hearing one side of the story, and yet he wanted to believe it. Could this kid somehow be totally in the right? God, he hoped so.
    Buck spoke again, raw with pain and rage.
    â€œâ€™Course, I was sore as a boil at Glenn, but I wanted my money. So when I saw his men changing the Standing Arrow brand to a pine tree, I figured here was the way to get my wages’ worth. And that’s how I came to get caught rebranding my boss’s steers.”
    Strickland sat digesting the tale, his head down and his elbows resting on his knees. At last he raised his searching eyes to Buck’s face, probing for the look of truth.
    â€œQuestion comes to mind,” he said finally, as he settled on what he thought he saw.
    â€œWill you give what money you got for the cattle to Mr. Blough?”
    Buck’s tone was as metallic as a sixgun. “Sure. I’ll give Old Blough the thirty, soon as I get the hundred he owes me. Ain’t much to ask, seein’ it’s fair.”
    His words cracked with a powerful emotion Jake hadn’t as yet seen him show.
    â€œSeein’ I’ve forever lost the chance to follow my girl to Oregon.”
    Jake shook his head. Yeah, the kid would feel marked, all right. And betrayed, and screwed, and a hell of a lot more.
    He said, “OK, I see your point. I’ll do what I can, but it’d look better to the ranchers on this range if you was to give Blough the thirty, regardless. Think you could sit a horse, come tomorrow early?”
    A vein of clear strength cut through what would be Buck’s permanent huskiness of speech.
    â€œYes, I can do whatever I set my mind to. If you want me to meet Old Man Blough and a couple of the other ranchers, I’ll show. I ain’t sure right now how much I’ll tell on Saltwell’s operation. Maybe I never cottoned to Glenn, But I did work for him. Ain’t used to being Judas to nobody.”
    Jake’s eyes narrowed. Not only did his young friend show the blunt, practical honesty he’d seen at the hanging tree, but a fast shot of maturity, as well.
    â€œI take it you don’t aim to meet with Newt Yocum at all? And Blough only so long as other and neutral men are there?”
    â€œYou hit the nail square, Jake.”
    Buck shrugged his shoulders. “If you mean to set up a meet, I’ll wait someplace ’til you come and let me know I’ll be treated fair.”
    â€œTell you what,” Jake bargained, uncoiling like a length of rope as he stood up. “I’ll leave right now. I’ll bypass Blough and that so-called deputy and go right to my own boss. Then I’ll join you wherever you say at dusk tomorrow, and we’ll decide from there.”
    â€œDaniel Thompson?” Buck demanded. “You’d speak to Wide Loop on my behalf?”
    Strickland flinched at his boss’s