Ride the Man Down by Luke; Short Page A

looked sharply at the Young boys. Mel had a boot heel hooked over one of the gate poles, and his battered Stetson was shoved back off his forehead. He was chewing idly on a hay straw and when he looked at Ike his eyes were mild, innocent.
    â€œWhat’s this?” Ike demanded.
    â€œYou told us to watch out for any strange beef this side of the line, didn’t you?”
    Ike looked at Garretson and said cautiously, “Some of your stuff stray over, Harve?”
    â€œFive miles over,” Jim Young drawled. He was squatted by Mel, and his eyes also were innocent, Ike noticed.
    Garretson said angrily, “I’ll give you a chance to return ’em, Ike, and I’ll forget to tell Will about this.”
    Ike, up to now, had been faintly embarrassed, remembering that Garretson, like all the outfits in the Indigos, had been good neighbors to Hatchet. But Ike didn’t like threats, and after considering this a moment he decided it was a threat.
    He said, “I’ll tell him myself. How far over the line was your stuff?”
    â€œFive miles,” Jim Young repeated.
    Ike said flatly, “I’m askin’ him,” to Jim Young.
    Mel said, “Jim just wanted to be sure you heard right.”
    Ike, nettled, turned back to Garretson. “That right?”
    Garretson came over to him and put a hand on Ike’s horse, and now his voice was confidential. “That’s right, Ike. Only let’s get some sense into this talk.”
    Ike didn’t say anything, and Garretson went on persuasively, “You know and I know that Will and John Evarts don’t aim to try and keep all of old Hatchet. They can’t. Well, these cattle”—he gestured toward the horse pasture—“are my claim to that chunk that borders on me. That’s only reasonable, ain’t it?”
    â€œYou’re pretty sure,” Ike drawled ominously.
    â€œSure?” Garretson laughed easily. “Know who’s part owner of them cattle with me, Ike? Lowell Priest.”
    Ike was startled. The whole country knew that Will was going to marry Lottie Priest someday. Certainly Priest wouldn’t allow his cattle to be driven onto Hatchet, risking seizure, unless Will had given the word to go ahead. But Will hadn’t said anything to him, and that was enough for Ike.
    He said, “Mebbeso. I’ll ask him.”
    â€œThat’s right,” Garretson said, and he turned to the Young brothers. “I told you fellows this was Priest’s herd. Now help me cut ’em out!”
    â€œThey’ll keep right here,” Ike said.
    Garretson turned on him. “You mean you’re goin’ to hold ’em anyway?”
    â€œTill Will says to drive ’em back, I am.”
    Garretson stood there, speechless with anger. Jim Young rose and handed him two six-guns and drawled mildly, “We’ll let you know what he says.”
    Garretson took the two guns, gave one to his man, who had watched this with utter indifference, and tramped over to his own horse. He stepped into the saddle and pulled his horse around, facing Ike.
    â€œYou’ll be damn sorry for this, Ike!” he shouted, shaking his fist. “The whole scummy crew of you will get your time for this!”
    â€œGood-by, Mr. Garretson,” Ike said dryly.
    Garretson roweled his horse, and his puncher fell in beside him, and they rode rapidly down the fence line.
    Ike looked over at the herd in the horse pasture. Garretson’s bunch had been the biggest catch yet. The grass was nearly gone in the pasture, and Ike didn’t have any idea what Will was going to do with all the captive cattle, but it was at least tangible evidence that Hatchet was fighting. He looked now at the Youngs.
    Mel said, “We kind of figured we already had this bunch, and we didn’t have that other bunch you was talkin’ about, so we brought ’em in.”
    â€œAny trouble?”
    â€œOne fella