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a hammer blow down on his kidneys.
You re fired, Koch, he said. Get your outfit and get out. I don t ever
want to see you around again ... anywhere. Chantry picked up his rifle and
walked to his horse.
He rode out, swept wide, and began gathering cattle, pushing them toward the
center. He gathered about twenty head, and then came upon a bunch that had
slowed to a walk, and started them all back. Hay Gent joined him with a dozen
head.
What happened back there? Gent asked.
With Koch?I whipped him again, and then I fired him.
What if he won t stay fired?
He will.
But if he don t?
Then I ll whip him again, and again, until he stays fired.
Gentmade no comment, and they drove the cattle in, meeting McKay,Helvie ,
andRugger also bringing in cattle. It was the work of hours, but slowly the
cattle were all gathered.
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We ll move on, French said. Maybe there s water up ahead. He looked
around. Where s Koch?
They were all listening. I fired him, Chantry replied. That shot started
the stampede. This is no place to be settling personal grudges.
Williams looked at him thoughtfully.
We ll be short-handed, he said. And he added, He ll carry a grudge. Likely
he ll lay for you.
He ll have company then, Chantry said.
What s that mean? Williams asked quickly.
Men leave tracks, French. I m not so much a tenderfoot that I can t read
sign.
They were all looking at him, but he left it at that, and the cattle started
to move.
Riding out from the herd, he found a promontory and rode cautiously up the
side to look over the ridge and survey the country. A few miles ahead and off
to the right of the trail there was a hollow with a touch of deeper green.
Half an hour later he came up to it, a wide slough boggy along the sides, but
with water a-plenty. Skirting it, he found it had a gravelly shore, and turned
back to guide the herd.
Water? French was skeptical. I don t know of any water around here.
You do now, Chantry said. Hay, turn the herd.
Hay Gent glanced at Williams, who merely shrugged, so the herd swung. By the
time the cattle had watered and a few head had been snaked out of the mud it
was coming on to sundown, and over by the chuck wagon there was a fire going.
There was little talk around the fire. The men were dog-tired, and when they
had eaten they hunted their bedrolls. French alone loitered at the fire,
smoking. From time to time he glanced across at Tom Chantry.
You are a difficult man, my friend, he said at last. Whatever else you may
be, you are not a coward.
Thanks.
I will win, however. It s a long way to Dodge.
It is that. Chantry looked up from his coffee. And when you get there,
I ll be with you.
French s gaze hardened, then he laughed. You might be at that, he replied
cheerfully, and if you are, I ll give you credit for it.
You ll need the credit, Chantry replied.
I ll have the cash.
He got a plate and his food, and sat down a bit away from the fire. If they
didn t accept him, the hell with them he could go his own way. But there was
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something in him that was different now; he had grown harder, tougher. The
wide plains and the long winds of morning were having their effect; but French
Williams, theTalrim boys, and Koch had contributed ...yes, and Sparrow back
there atLas Vegas , and Bone McCarthy atClifton s. These men had experienced
far more living in the West than he had. Perhaps, he thought reluctantly,
perhaps his thinking needed a bit of revision.
How much of what he believed about not using guns was left over from that
bitter day when they brought his father home on a shutter? Or was it what his
mother had taught him? Deep in grief over the death of his father, she had
shrunk from the possibility of such an end for her son.
Killing was wrong on that score he could not change. However, there was no
law here except the law enforced by men with guns, and did such men as
theTalrims , and even such men as Williams himself, understand any other law?
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