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“Mebbe.” Pardo rolled a smoke and related the events of the brief visit in town.
“Mebbe Strykes will get smart and leave Latch alone,” he finished. “This here Mike Latch is no greenhorn. No man who’s green takes things easy like this hombre. Never even turned a hair when Strykes braced him. Harry didn’t have no idea what to do. Nossiree, yuh can place yore bets on this here boss of our’n. He’s got sand in his gizzard, and I’m bettin’ he’s a hand with a shootin’ iron. He’s braced trouble afore.”
Flood chewed on his pipe stem. “He’s deep,” he said.
“Old George always said young Latch was a book-readin’ hombre. Quiet-like.”
“Well,” Flood said thoughtfully, “this Latch is quiet enough, and he reads books. . . .”
Tony Costa learned of the incident from Pardo, and Maria related the story to Carol. Jed made no reference to it at supper. Costa hesitated as he arose from the table.
“Senor,” he said, “since Senor Baca’s death the senorita has allowed me to eat in the ranch house. If you wish, I can—”
Jed glanced up. “Forget it,” he said. “And unless you’re in a hurry, sit down.”
When Costa had seated himself, Jed lit a cigarette and leaned back.
“Yesterday I was over in Fall Valley,” he said, “and I saw some cattle over there, quite a lot of them, with a Bar O brand.”
Costa’s eye flared. “Bar O? Ah, then they try again! This brand, senor, belongs to a man with a big ranch—Frank Besovi. He is a big man, ver’ ugly man. Senor Baca has much troubles with him. Always he tries to take that valley, and if he gets that, he will try to take more. He has taken many ranches so.”
“Take some of the boys up there and throw that bunch of cattle back on his own range,” ordered Jed.
“There will be trouble, senor.”
“You afraid of trouble, Costa?” Jed Asbury asked quietly.
The foreman’s face sharpened. “No, senor!”
“Neither am I. Throw them back.”
When the punchers moved out in the morning, Jed mounted his own horse and, keeping to the timber, followed them. And there was going to be trouble. Jed saw that when they neared the valley.
Several punchers were grouped near a big man with a black beard. Their horses had a Bar O brand.
Jed rode out of the trees.
“I’ll take over, Costa,” he said. “I want to hear what Besovi has to say.”
“Besovi, he ver’ bad man!” Costa warned.
Jed Asbury knew trouble when he saw it and he knew that Besovi and his men had ridden in here for a showdown. He rode directly to them and pushed his big black right up against Besovi’s gray. The big man’s face flamed with rage.
“What yuh tryin’ to do?” he roared.
“Listen, Besovi!” Jed’s voice was cold and even. “Have your boys round up those cattle and run them back over that line— right now! If you don’t, I’ll make you run ’em over afoot!”
“What?” Besovi’s voice was an incredulous bellow.
“You heard me. Give the order.”
“I’ll see you in Tophet first!” Besovi roared.
Jed Asbury knew this could be settled in two ways. If he went for a gun there would be shooting on both sides and men would be killed. He chose the other way.
He grabbed Besovi by the beard and jerked the rancher sharply toward him. He kicked the big man’s foot free of the stirrup, then shoved hard. Besovi, caught by the sheer unexpectedness of the attack, went off his horse, and Jed hit the ground and was around the horses in a flash.
Besovi, his face white with anger, was lunging to his feet, his hand clawing for a gun.
“Afraid to fight with your hands?” Jed taunted.
Besovi glared, then unbuckled his gunbelts and handed them to the nearest horseman. Without hesitation, Jed unbuckled the silver guns and handed them to Costa.
Besovi started toward him with a sort of crabwise movement that made Jed’s eyes sharpen. He circled warily, looking the big man over.
Jed was at least thirty pounds lighter than Besovi, and the big man had power in those mighty shoulders. Yet it took more than power to win in this kind of a fight. Jed moved in, feinting. Besovi grabbed at his wrist and Jed pushed the hand aside and stiffened a left in his face.
Blood showed, and the Casa Grande men yelled. Pardo rolled his chewing in his jaws and watched. He had seen Besovi fight before. The big man kept moving in, and Jed was wary. Besovi had some plan of action. He was no wild, hit-or-miss fighter. Jed feinted, then stabbed two lefts to Besovi’s face so fast one punch had scarcely landed before the other smacked home. Pardo was surprised to see how Besovi’s head jerked under the impact.
Besovi moved in and when Jed led again, the bigger man went under the punch and leaped close, encircling Jed with his mighty arms. Jed’s quick leap back had been too slow, and he felt the power in that quick, grasping clutch. If those huge arms ever closed on him he would be in for trouble, so he kicked up both feet and fell.
The fall, sudden and unexpected, caught Besovi off balance, and he lunged on, losing his grip. Quickly he spun, but Jed was already on his feet. Besovi swung, however, and the punch caught Jed on the cheek bone. He took it standing, and Pardo’s mouth dropped open. Nobody had ever stood up under such a Besovi punch before.
Jed struck then, a left and right that cracked home solidly. The left opened the gash over Besovi’s eye a little more. The right landed on the chin, and the big man staggered. Jed moved in fast, threw both hands to the head. As the big r ancher’s hands came up to protect his face, Jed slugged him in the stomach.
Besovi got an arm around Jed and smashed him twice on the face with stiff, short-arm blows. Jed butted him hard, breaking free.
He was faster, and he caught the rancher behind the head and jerked Besovi’s face down to meet the right uppercut that broke his nose. Jed pushed him away then and hit him seven times before he could set himself. Besovi tried, like a huge blind bear, to swing, but Jed went under the punch and hit him in the stomach again.
Besovi staggered back, and Jed drew back and dropped his hands.
“You’ve had plenty, Besovi, and you’re too good a fighter to kill. You’d never quit. I could kill you but I’d probably break my hands. Did you take those cattle out of here?”
Besovi, standing unsteadily, wiped the blood from his eyes. He stared at Jed, unbelievingly.
“Well, I’ll be hanged!” he said. He blinked, then turned. “You heard the man,” he said. “Round up them cows. The fun’s over.” He turned back to Jed. “Yuh’re a fighter, by the eternal! Yuh could have beat me to death! Want to shake?”
“I’d never shake with a better man, or a tougher one!”
Their hands gripped, and suddenly Besovi began to laugh. He slapped his thigh and roared. His eyes twinkled at Jed.
“Come over for supper some night, will yuh? Ma’s been telling me this would happen. She’ll be right pleased to see yuh!”
CHAPTER FIVE: At Bay
The big rancher’s lips were split, there was a cut over his right eye, his cheek bone was cut under it. The other eye was slowly swelling shut. There was one bruise on Jed’s cheek bone. It would be bigger tomorrow, but it wasn’t enough to know he had been in a fight. Pardo studied his new boss carefully.
“Can’t figger him,” he told Flood later. “Is he scared to use them guns? Or does he just like to fight with his hands?”
“He’s smart,” Flood said. “Look, he’s made a friend of Besovi. If he’d beaten him to the ground, Besovi never would forgive him. He was savin’ face for Besovi, like they call it over China way. And what if he’d reached for guns?”
“Likely seven or eight wouldn’t have rode home tonight.” “Shore. This hombre is smart, that’s what he is!”
Jed, soaking his battered hands, was not so sure. Besovi might have gone for a gun, or one of his men might have. He had been lucky. He might not be so lucky next time.