Free Radigan (1958) by Louis L'amour Page A

for them to stay in there." "All right," Thorpe swung his horse, "let's take it."
    Ross Wall moved swiftly. The cattle were driven into the bottoms and held in a loose herd by four men, and the others climbed into position where they could fire upon the house. Three men occupied the barn and two moved into the corrals, and there was no firing. Coker he placed among the trees to the right of the house, Barbeau to the left.
    Angelina rode back down the hill and dismounted near the fire. She extended her hands toward the flames, watching Bitner, who had remained by the fire for the time being.
    "You've seen him. What do you think about him?" she asked.
    Bitner glanced at her out of his tough, cynical eyes. "You never seen a cattle war, ma'am," he said. "This here shapes up like a first-rate one. Man never knows when one starts as to how it will end, or where. Yes, I've seen him close up, and he ain't no bargain. That there Radigan is a grizzly bear from way back in the up hills. He'll take some killin' an' when he dies he won't go by himself. I hired on for fightin' wages. Ma'am, I reckon we'll earn 'em."
    "There's only two men."
    "Two. Ain't many, is it? But they're forted up, an' they know how to fight." He stirred the fire and piled on some dried wood. "Two men can make a fight of it, and that Radigan's a fighter from who flung the chunk."
    A rifle shot came to them. It was Coker who had fired, and they could see the smoke from his position, although they could not see the house. "Coker," Bitner said. "He's quick on the shoot."
    There was no other sound for several minutes and Angelina listened the echo away, thinking of what it might mean. Men might die-but men had died before. A dozen had died in the feud from which they had just come, and several more disappeared or wounded.
    The shot fired by Coker struck the window sill and ripped a gash. It was a wooden sill laid on the rock of the house. Radigan glanced at it and waited. He was in no hurry. There was no sense shooting until somebody gave him something to shoot at.
    Gretchen, under his orders, was making up three packs of food. Blankets had already been cached, but each would take one along and a ground sheet. No telling where all they would camp.
    A bullet shattered glass and imbedded itself in the ceiling. John Child shifted a little, then fired suddenly. Barbeau jerked back, swearing. There was a burn across his shoulder that stung like fire and he felt a trickle of blood down his back. It was only a break in the skin, but he felt a sudden chill. These men could shoot.
    All afternoon there was sporadic fire with no harm on either side. Harvey Thorpe, nested down among some boulders, studied the house irritably. Not more than four shots had come from the house ... either they had little ammunition or they were careful. Barbeau had been scratched, and Coker had a boot heel shot off. Twice shots had come dangerously close to Wall.
    The packs were completed and placed near the tunnel door. Child had been out through the tunnel and had fed corn to the hidden horses. He was worried, and stayed with them for some time. Sooner or later somebody was going to try circling behind the house and if they did they would be sure to find the horses. There was little concealment back there, and on much of the talus slope a man would be exposed to fire from below with no cover at all.
    When darkness came Radigan slipped outside and waited against the wall of the house with a six-gun. He was sure an attempt would be made to creep under the windows and lie against the wall for quick shots through the windows. He wanted to be ready.
    Seated with his back against the wall, Radian waited.
    The air was cool, not as cold as it had been, and the dryness seemed gone from the night. A faint wind stirred the pines and out in the stable a horse stomped.
    He saw a faint movement near the wall of the barn and the corral corner. And then the man came, bent low and running in his sock feet. Radigan