CHAPTER X: MISBRANDED
The Circle M was typical of its owner, Jules Mendoza. The main ranch-house was of poles and adobe, much in the Hopi style, one-story, threatening at any time to fall down. The stables and corrals were on a par with the house. But it was picturesque and it suited Jules Mendoza, whose wants were few.
Mexico Skinner and Tony Gibbs were Mendoza’s two helpers. Mexico was half-white, half-Mexican, while Tony was Italian and Mexican, with a dash of Irish and a bit of Indian. The name “Gibbs” was easier to say than Tony’s real name, which was something like Aponopolini. Mexico’s right name was Peletero, which is the equivalent of Skinner in Spanish.
The Circle M raised more horses than cattle, although there was little market for horses. Many Circle M horses ranged far back in the hills, half-wild things, some entirely wild. In fact, Mendoza had no idea how many horses he owned, as there was never any round-up of horses for him to make a count of his herd. But he was satisfied.
Cultus found Blaze Nolan and Jules at the ranch. Jules eyed him with a certain suspicion, until he realised that this was the strange cowboy who had pitched Alden Marsh out of the saloon.
“I’m soree I’m not see it,” he told Cultus.
“Was it somethin’ you’d like to have seen?” smiled Cultus.
“Oh, ver’ mooch.”
“Come in and set down,” invited Blaze.
The interior of the ranch-house was on a par with the exterior. The floor was hard-packed adobe, the walls whitewashed. In one corner was a big fireplace, where the smoke had blackened the walls. Several old Navajo rugs were spread on the floor, and one wall was decorated with a huge Mexican serape.
Cultus sprawled in an old chair and rolled a cigarette.
“This place shore seems homelike,” he said. He sniffed the air and grinned over his cigarette.
“Frijoles, eh?”
“Beeg pot,” laughed Mendoza. “Plenty beans. Pretty soon we eat.”
“Sounds fine to me, pardner.”
“Bueno.”
Mendoza went out to the kitchen to stoke the stove.
“He’s salt of the earth,” said Blaze softly. “Mex and Apache, with the worst of both left out.”
Cultus nodded with understanding, although the condition was a rare one.
“I’ve heard so much about you since I came here,” said Cultus, “that I rode out to look yuh over, Nolan.”
“I reckon yuh didn’t hear anythin’ good.”
“Some of it wasn’t so bad. The deputy sheriff told me quite a lot about yore troubles.”
“He would,” smiled Blaze. “Bad News would choke to death if he couldn’t talk. But his opinion doesn’t bear much weight in Painted Valley.”
“Probably because he favours you, Nolan.”
“That’s probably the reason.”
“Do you know any of the men at the Triangle X?”
Blaze shook his head.
“Only what I’ve seen of ’em since I came back. Marsh bought that outfit after I left, and put his own men in charge. I’ve only seen Butch Van Deen, but the names of the rest are strange to me.”
“I suppose Marsh has a reason for hirin’ gunmen.”
“That might be a fact, Collins.”
“I’d like to ask you a personal question.”
“Go ahead.”
“Did you come here straight from the penitentiary?”
Blaze looked narrowly at Cultus. The question was rather peculiar, and he wondered what was behind it.
“No,” he said thoughtfully. “I didn’t. I went to Los Angeles first.”
“And did yuh come by rail from there, Nolan?”
“From San Berdoo. I caught a ride from Los to San Berdoo.”
“Thanks.”
“Thanks for what?”
“Elimination. Have Mendoza’s two men been away from Painted Valley lately?”
“Not for six years; maybe more.”
“Mendoza?”
“Not for longer than that. Jules never travels. But what’s the idea of all this, Collins?”
“Curiosity, I suppose. A few weeks ago, down on the border, I was helpin’ some border officers grab a bunch of contraband. It was at night, and by all rights we should have captured ’em all, but there was a slip, an officer was killed and my horse stolen. I’ve been on that horse-stealin’ killer’s trail since then. And the tall gray horse you was ridin’ is the horse which was stolen from me, and he’s wearin’ a Circle M on his right shoulder, instead of the plain N he was originally branded with.”
Blaze frowned heavily, hardly understanding what Cultus meant.
“Are yuh sure about that?” he asked.
“I can prove it by the horse.”
Blaze sat down and began rolling a cigarette.
“It’s shore nice of yuh to take it this way,” he said. “That tall gray was in a bunch of Circle M horses, and I kinda picked him out to ride. But I can assure yuh that nobody on this ranch ever stole him—and Mendoza never brands a branded horse without puttin’ his registered vent over that brand.”
“I’m not accusin’ anybody,” said Cultus.
“I know it. That horse is down in the corral now. He picked up a sharp stone between here and town, and I’ve been doctorin’ it. Let’s go and look at him.”
They walked outside and Cultus halted at the corner of the house.
“You turn him loose, and I’ll prove ownership, Nolan.”
Blaze walked down to the corral and opened the gate. Mendoza was standing in the kitchen door, skillet in hand, wondering what it was all about. He saw the tall, gray horse come from the corral, and he heard Cultus whistle a shrill note, like the call of a bird.
The gray lifted his head quickly, ears pricked, scanning the country. Again came the shrill call and the gray saw Cultus. With a low nicker, the animal came across the yard at a swinging walk and went straight up to Cultus, nosing at him. Blaze came quickly from the corral, and Mendoza left the kitchen to join them.
“I reckon that’s plenty proof,” said Blaze. He turned quickly to Mendoza and explained about the animal. The little man blinked foolishly, walked around and examined the brand. For quite a while he studied the animal.
“That’s ver’ damn funny,” he said. “I’m don’ remember theese horse, but he’s got my brand. Ver’ new brand, eh, Blaze? Looks like running-iron.”
“Yuh don’t reckon Tony or Mexico know anythin’, do yuh, Jules?”
“I’m not pay Tony and Mejico to steal horse for me, Blaze.”
“No, that’s right.”
Cultus shook his head, as he rubbed the nose of the horse.
“No, I’ve got to look further than this, boys. Don’t say a word about it to anybody. Keep the horse here at the ranch, until I want him, because I want the man who stole him.”
“Bueno! I keep,” said Jules. “Frijoles ready jus’ when the biscuit ees cook.”
They were eating when Tony and Mexico came, but nothing was said to them about the stolen horse. They retired to the bunkhouse as soon as they finished their meal.
“Tony say they come pas’ Triangle X,” said Jules. “He say they see old man Marsh.”
“Is he sure of that?” queried Blaze quickly.
“Tony know him damn well.”
“I reckon he does, Jules; thanks.”
“Marsh is takin’ a chance, comin’ here, ain’t he?” asked Cultus.
Blaze seemed very thoughtful, as he replied, “Mebby he don’t know it, but he is, Collins; takin’ a big chance. But that’s what they call him—Take-a-Chance. There’s two men in Painted Valley who ain’t wanted. Somebody could kill the both of ’em, and no Painted Valley jury would ever convict them. I’m the other one of the two.”
“For two different reasons,” said Cultus.
“I’m not so sure about that either,” bitterly. “I reckon I was a fool to ever come back here. The world is wide, but these were my people, and I thought it might be different than it is. I’ve always had a hunch that somethin’ would turn up to disprove some of the things I’m supposed to have done; but yuh can’t prove anythin’ in a place where yo’re hated the way I’m hated here.”
“You mean to disprove that you shot Ben Kelton?”
Blaze shook his head sadly.
“No, I reckon I shot him. I never could prove I didn’t, except to myself. I counted four shots besides my two. Ben Kelton only shot once.”
Cultus threw his cigarette in the fireplace and dusted the tobacco crumbs off his shirt-front.
“Bad News never told me about that,” he said, as he sat down.
“Probably Bad News don’t know it. I never told it in court. What was the use. But there were six shots fired, and I thought they were all fired at me. Anyway, one of ’em brushed my ear, and I heard it hit a building across the street.”
“Wasn’t Ben hit twice?”
“Yeah. Both bullets went through him. I couldn’t see who it was, and they found me, lightin’ matches, tryin’ to see who I’d shot. They asked me if I shot him, and I admitted it. Mebby I did.”
“Didja ever have any quarrel with him?”
“No. His father was my best friend.”
“I’ve heard that part of it, Nolan. They fed me out at their place the day I rode in. I heard to-day that Marsh had bought out the War Dance Saloon.”
Blaze laughed shortly.
“He’s goin’ to own the Valley, if he keeps on.”
“And turn Medicine Tree into a sheep camp. Oh, I heard a lot of talk in Marshville. I reckon the feed is played out on them hills over there. They shore look it.”
“Turn Medicine Tree into a sheep camp,” mused Blaze. “Sometimes I don’t care—and then I do care. Funny, ain’t it. Sometimes I want to go away from here and let things go hang. Don’t the Bible say somethin’ about an eye for an eye? And then it says to love those who hate yuh.
“But what’s the difference? They see things from their angle, and I see ’em from mine. It’s all past and done, but I’d like to know who fired them other three shots besides my two and Kelton’s one.”
“Wasn’t it young Marsh who testified that you and Ben fought over a dance-hall girl?”
Blaze’s jaws snapped shut and his eyes hardened.
“Dirty little liar! He was drunk. He said that Ben told him we quarrelled over that girl before, and that I might get him. I don’t know what Ben told him, but it was a lie about that girl. I never even spoke to her. She could have proved that much, but she got scared and pulled out. That shore blocked me from any alibi in that direction, and they soaked me plenty. It wasn’t a just decision, and they knew it, but they got away with it. You knew Kendall Marsh got me out on parole, didn’t yuh?”
“No, I didn’t know it. What was his interest?”
Blaze shook his head.
“I can’t tell you what it was. In fact, I dunno why I’m tellin’ you all this stuff, Collins—unless it’s because you acted damn decent about that stolen horse. If you had been as brainless as some cowboys I know, you’d have shot or jailed me before this. I don’t know what I’d have done under the circumstances.”
“Well,” grinned Cultus, “I didn’t suspect you, and I felt sure that the brand had been made with a runnin’-iron. I figured that Mendoza could have lapped his regular iron over that N and made a good job of it, instead of the way it was made.”
“You wanted to find out if I rode a horse into the Valley,” smiled Nolan.
“Sure. Somebody did, and I thought you might know. Well, I guess I better head back for Medicine Tree. I wonder if Marsh knows how they feel about him here.”
“Quien sabe? He’s no fool; but if he don’t, I’ll tell him. Me and him are due to meet pretty quick.”
Cultus shook hands with Mendoza and thanked him for the meal.
“You come some more,” urged Mendoza. “Plenty frijoles, plenty beef.”
Cultus assured him that he would come again, shook hands with Blaze, and rode away. He felt sure that Blaze was not guilty. Perhaps he did kill Ben Kelton, but there must have been a third party present, and this third party would know the truth.