Free Killoe (1962) by Louis L'amour Page B

Rose. If it hadn't been for that old longhorn spotting something in the brush, Sandy would have unquestionably killed one of them, and maybe both.
    He would have shot Tap where he found him. He said as much, and he said it cold turkey.
    Tap was watching Sandy as he talked, and I thought that Tap respected him for the first time. It was something Tap could understand.
    "What have you to say for yourself?." Pa asked Tap.
    Tap Henry shrugged. "What can I say? He told it straight enough. We were talking"--Tap grinned meaningly--"and that was all."
    Pa glanced over at Rose. "We're not going to ask you anything, Rose. What lies between you and your husband is your business. Only this: if anything like this happens again, you leave the drive . . . no matter where we are. Tom can go or stay, as he likes."
    Pa turned his attention back to Tap. His face was cold. "One thing I never tolerate on my drives is a troublemaker. You've caused trouble, Tap, and likely you'd cause more. I doubt if you and Tom could make it to the Pecos without a killing, and I won't have that, nor have my men taking sides."
    He paused, and knowing Pa and how much he cared for Tap, I knew how much it cost him. "You can have six days' grub, Tap, and a full canteen. You've got your own horse.
    I want you out of camp within the hour."
    Tap would not believe it. He was stunned, you could see that. He stood there staring at Pa like Pa had struck him.
    "We can't have a man on our drive, which is a family affair, who would create trouble with another man's wife," Pa said, and he turned abruptly and walked back to our wagon.
    Everybody turned away then, and after a minute Tap walked to the wagon and began sorting out what little gear he had. "Sorry, Tap," I said.
    He turned sharp around. "Go to hell," he said coldly. "You're no brother of mine."
    He shouldered his gear and walked to his horse to saddle up. Ira Tilton got up and walked over to him, and talked to him for a minute, then came back and sat down.
    And then Tap got into the saddle and rode off.
    Day was breaking, and we yoked up the wagons and started the herd. The river became muddy and shallow. We let the cattle take their time, feeding as they went, but the grass was sparse and of no account.
    We had been short-handed when we started west, and since then we had buried Aaron Stark and lost Tap Henry. It wasn't until the wagons were rolling that we found we had lost somebody else.
    Karen was gone.
    She had slipped off, saddled her pony, and had taken off after Tap.
    Ma Foley was in tears and Tim looked mighty grim, but we had all seen Tap ride off alone, and so far as anybody knew he had not talked to Karen in days. But it was plain enough that she had followed him off, and a more fool thing I couldn't imagine.
    Pa fell back to the drag. "'Son, you and Zeb take out and scout for water. I doubt if we will have much this side of the Pecos. There's Mustang Ponds up ahead, but Tap didn't say much about them."
    We moved out ahead, but the land promised little. The stream dwindled away, falling after only a few miles to a mere trickle, then scattered pools. Out on the plains there was a little mesquite, all of it scrubby and low-growing. The few pools of water we saw were too small to water the herd.
    The coolness of the day vanished and the sun became hot. Pausing on a rise where there should have been a breeze, we found none. I mopped my neck and looked over at Zebony. "We may wish we had Tap before this is over." He nodded. "Your pa was right, though."
    At last we found a pool. It was water lying in a deep hole in the river, left behind when the upper stream began to dry out, or else it was the result of some sudden, local shower.
    "What do you think, Zeb?"
    "Enough." He stared off into the distance. "Maybe the last this side of Horsehead."
    He turned to me. "Dan, that Pecos water is alkali. The river isn't so bad, but any pools around it will kill cattle. We've got to hold them off it."
    Suddenly he drew up. On