Burt Alvord's bedroll inside witih him.
"Now you stay there, boy," Bess ordered, lighting a lamp and looking at Alvord, who had flopped into a chair but made a move to get up as his boss entered the room. "And you leave him be until he's taken
something to drink, John Slaughter. Whatever brought him back isn't so all-fired important that it can't wait until he draws breath."
As usual in matters of that nature, Bess was given her way. While Slaughter might be boss of the ranch, inside the house was his wife's range and she ruled it with an iron hand.
After drinking a glass of milk, Alvord told of what he had seen and heard at the Long Rail camp. Trace and Burton stood in the background, listening to Burt Alvord speak more than he usually gave out in a full month of talking. They both looked at their boss as the scout's words came to an end.
"Twenty guns, John," Trace said quietly. ''Even counting Coonskin we can't put out more than fifteen. We'll need the rest on the herd. Could use more men wiih the herd, happen the shooting gets started close in, or we'll have both danged bunches mixing even if they don't break and run."
"Unless we hit them out there far enough so the shooting won't be heard," Biu-ton put in.
"I don't want it to come to shooting, if we can avoid it,'' Slaughter answered. "We can't lay for them from ambush and any other way we're hkely to lose some of the boys."
"We'd all take our chance."
"I know it. Wash. Only oiu* boys are cowhands, not trained guntoters like the Chisum crew."
"Do you think Chisum is serious, John?" Bess asked.
"He sure is, honey."
TBut why? You stopped his man injuring Lige Baxter in town, and you only took back what belongs to you.'^
"That's all I did, honey. Only Chisum's got a name for being a hard man to cross. His power depends on folks being scared of him. Happen he backs water and lets me run two blazers on him, he's sure going to find other folks hard to convince he's so tough in future. Nope, he has to make a grandstand play, show folks that it doesn't pay to buck the Cattle King."
Which same was the longest speech Bess could re-76
member her husband making for many a year. Fact being, she could never remember hearing him say so much at one go in all the years they had been together.
''What'll we do, John?" Burton asked.
"Boss," Alvord put in, pointing to his bedroll which lay on the table at die side of the room. '1 brought us a lil' something back from out of Chisum's wagon, from under his bed comes to that. Figured it might make a right smart doohickey for trading should Chisum come."
Opening the bedroll. Slaughter looked down at the thing it contained. Biut had called it right, the thing might easily change Chisum's mind when he saw it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ttere^d Better Not Be Anotlier Time
At the head of twenty of his gun-hung "warriors,** John Chisum rode down into the bottom of the valley which led to the J.S. home range.
While it could not be claimed that Chisum was in any way an honest man, or said that he ever did a good thing in his life with the intention of helping anybody other than himself, there was no denying that few men of his day and age had a shrewder knowledge of human nature and how to turn it to his advantage.
He kept his men up late, drinking and building their hatred for Slaughter and the J.S. crew. When they crawled into their blankets in the small hours of the morning, the men had a bellyful of hate for J.S. and clear forgot that they had only a few short hours to sleep. The cook was met with curses and snarls when he roused the crew at dawn, and a sullen, morose bunch gathered at the fire.
Given the choice of herding cattle for ten hours or making a raid on the J.S. and being allowed to rest for the remainder of the day, they chose the latter without a second thought. Most of them still had hazy recollections of the hate Chisum had stirred up against Slaughter the previous night and perversely blamed the boss of the J.S. for their
"Now you stay there, boy," Bess ordered, lighting a lamp and looking at Alvord, who had flopped into a chair but made a move to get up as his boss entered the room. "And you leave him be until he's taken
something to drink, John Slaughter. Whatever brought him back isn't so all-fired important that it can't wait until he draws breath."
As usual in matters of that nature, Bess was given her way. While Slaughter might be boss of the ranch, inside the house was his wife's range and she ruled it with an iron hand.
After drinking a glass of milk, Alvord told of what he had seen and heard at the Long Rail camp. Trace and Burton stood in the background, listening to Burt Alvord speak more than he usually gave out in a full month of talking. They both looked at their boss as the scout's words came to an end.
"Twenty guns, John," Trace said quietly. ''Even counting Coonskin we can't put out more than fifteen. We'll need the rest on the herd. Could use more men wiih the herd, happen the shooting gets started close in, or we'll have both danged bunches mixing even if they don't break and run."
"Unless we hit them out there far enough so the shooting won't be heard," Biu-ton put in.
"I don't want it to come to shooting, if we can avoid it,'' Slaughter answered. "We can't lay for them from ambush and any other way we're hkely to lose some of the boys."
"We'd all take our chance."
"I know it. Wash. Only oiu* boys are cowhands, not trained guntoters like the Chisum crew."
"Do you think Chisum is serious, John?" Bess asked.
"He sure is, honey."
TBut why? You stopped his man injuring Lige Baxter in town, and you only took back what belongs to you.'^
"That's all I did, honey. Only Chisum's got a name for being a hard man to cross. His power depends on folks being scared of him. Happen he backs water and lets me run two blazers on him, he's sure going to find other folks hard to convince he's so tough in future. Nope, he has to make a grandstand play, show folks that it doesn't pay to buck the Cattle King."
Which same was the longest speech Bess could re-76
member her husband making for many a year. Fact being, she could never remember hearing him say so much at one go in all the years they had been together.
''What'll we do, John?" Burton asked.
"Boss," Alvord put in, pointing to his bedroll which lay on the table at die side of the room. '1 brought us a lil' something back from out of Chisum's wagon, from under his bed comes to that. Figured it might make a right smart doohickey for trading should Chisum come."
Opening the bedroll. Slaughter looked down at the thing it contained. Biut had called it right, the thing might easily change Chisum's mind when he saw it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ttere^d Better Not Be Anotlier Time
At the head of twenty of his gun-hung "warriors,** John Chisum rode down into the bottom of the valley which led to the J.S. home range.
While it could not be claimed that Chisum was in any way an honest man, or said that he ever did a good thing in his life with the intention of helping anybody other than himself, there was no denying that few men of his day and age had a shrewder knowledge of human nature and how to turn it to his advantage.
He kept his men up late, drinking and building their hatred for Slaughter and the J.S. crew. When they crawled into their blankets in the small hours of the morning, the men had a bellyful of hate for J.S. and clear forgot that they had only a few short hours to sleep. The cook was met with curses and snarls when he roused the crew at dawn, and a sullen, morose bunch gathered at the fire.
Given the choice of herding cattle for ten hours or making a raid on the J.S. and being allowed to rest for the remainder of the day, they chose the latter without a second thought. Most of them still had hazy recollections of the hate Chisum had stirred up against Slaughter the previous night and perversely blamed the boss of the J.S. for their
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