Dark Canyon (1963) by Louis L'amour Page A

had always been careful, had avoided contact with the people of the town, and had rarely left Hardcastle's saloon unless on some errand for Hard-castle. Now he seemed almost to invite trouble. Strat Spooner's manner, the whispers of impending trouble for Shattuck, and the mysterious drifters who kept passing through town or reappearing in town worried McCarty. He was a friendly man, and the people of Rimrock he counted as his friends, yet even Larsen, under his placid exterior, was obviously worried.
    Larsen had been going about more. He seemed never to sleep, and there were few evenings now when he was not dropping into the restaurant or one of the saloons. He was present, without fail, when Shattuck came into town, though he only watched and said nothing.
    Several days passed after this evening in the restaurant, and McCarty was making up his paper. Suddenly a shadow fell across his window, and the door opened. It was Gaylord Riley.
    He bought a newspaper, chatted a bit, then stepped outside. What happened then, McCarty observed with interest. Peg Oliver walked by and cut Riley dead. Eyes straight to the front, chin lifted, she walked right by him.
    Riley stood there, his mouth opened to speak, but she kept on walking. Astonished, he shuffled the paper in his hands, then turned and walked toward the restaurant.
    McCarty hesitated, glanced at the paper before him, and hurriedly took off his apron and his eyeshade. The paper could wait. He had a hunch he was going to learn something. He stepped out on the street, hastily shrugging into his coat.
    He was in time to see Riley stopped by Sheriff Larsen, and as he approached he overheard what was said.
    "Are you buying cows?"
    "When I can find them . . . white-face or Shorthorn."
    "I did nodt fink dere was so many aroundt." "There aren't many."
    "Do you haff pills of sale?"
    Gaylord Riley slanted a sharp look at the Swede's bland face. "Sure . . . what are you getting at?" "Do you mindt if I come oudt and look dem over?"
    Riley felt his neck getting hot, and he was suddenly aware that all movement on the street had stopped. "Any time, Sheriff, any time at all."
    Riley turned sharply away, and as he did so he saw Desloge. The gunman was seated on a bench before the saloon, and as their eyes met Desloge slowly, significantly, closed one eye.
    Riley's anger rose, but he started on toward th e restaurant, when Hardcastle stopped him. "Anything I can do," Hardcastle said, "you come to me." Riley stopped abruptly. "What do you mean? How could you help me?"
    Hardcastle shrugged. "I don't believe it for one minute, but the word's gone around town-Shattuck is losing cattle and blaming you."
    "To hell with him! " Riley brushed by him and went to the restaurant.
    At that hour it was almost deserted. The girl who took his order did not smile-she simply took the order and walked away. When his food was placed before him it was almost thrown upon the table. Angrily he started to rise, but he was hungry, and there was no place else in town where a man could eat. He relaxed, and began to eat. It was then that McCarty came in.
    "Mind if I sit down?"
    Riley looked up with relief. "Glad to have you, but the way people are treating me, I don't know whether you should or not."
    "I'll chance it." McCarty ordered his own supper and sat back, lighting his pipe. "Shattuck is missing cattle."
    "So he blames me?" Riley said bitterly. "I've got plenty of cattle of my own."
    "Who else would dare take them?" McCarty asked mildly. "There simply aren't any others anywhere in the country around. Nobody can understand where you got all those cattle you say you have."
    "I bought that herd in Spanish Fork."
    McCarty shrugged. "Understand me, I am not saying this, and it was I who told you of that herd, but some say there never was such a herd, and if there was there would be no way of getting it down, not from there to here."
    He had brought that herd down over the Outlaw Trail, and few even knew of that trail's