Free Law Of the Desert Born (Ss) (1984) by Louis L'amour Page A

is like sendin' a houn' dog down a hole after a badger. That man knows these hills, every crack an' crevice. He can hide places an Apache would pass up."
    The black-bearded man stared sullenly. He had thick lips and small, heavy-lidded eyes. "Sounds like maybe you're a friend of his'n. Maybe when we get him, you should hang alongside of him."
    Somehow the long rifle over Morton's saddlebows shifted to stare warningly at the man, although Morton made no perceptible movement. "That ain't a handy way to talk, stranger," Morton said casually. "Ever'body in these hills knows Nat, an' most of us been right friendly with him one time or another. I ain't takin' up with him, but I reckon there's worse men in this posse than he is .
    "Meanin?" The big man's hand lay on his thigh. "Meanin' anything you like." Morton was a Tennessee mountain man before he came west, and gun talk was not strange to him. "You call it your ownself." The long rifle was pointed between the big man's eyes, and Morton was building a cigarette with his hands only inches away from the trigger.
    -Forget it!" Benson interrupted. "What you two got to fight about? Blacide, this here's Jim Morton. He's lion hunter for the Lazy S."
    Blackie's mind underwent a rapid readjustment. This tall, lazy stranger wasn't the soft-headed drink of water he had thought him, for everybody knew about Morton. A dead shot with rifle and pistol, he was known to favor the former, even in fairly close combat. He had been known to go up trees after mountain lions, and once, when three hardcase rustlers had tried to steal his horses, the three had ended up in Boot Hill.
    "How about it, Jim?" Chuck asked. "You know Nat. Where'd you think he'd be?"
    Morton squinted and drew on his cigarette. "Ain't no figurin' him. I know him, an' I've hunted along of him. He's almighty knowin' when it comes to wild country. Moves like a cat an' got eyes like a turkey buzzard." He glanced at Chuck. "What's he done? I heard some tal k down to the Slash Five, but . N obody seemed to have it clear.
    "Stage robbed yestiddy. Pete Daley of the Diamond D was ridin' it, an' he swore the robber was Nat. When they went to arrest him, Nat shot the sheriff."
    "Kill him?"
    "No. But he's had off, an' like to die. Nat only fired once, an' the bullet took Larrabee too high."
    "Don't sound reasonable," Morton said slowly. "Nat ain't one to miss somethin' he aims to kill. You say Pete Daley was there?"
    "Yeah. He's the on'y one saw it."
    "How about this robber? Was he masked?"
    "Uh huh, an' packin' a Winchester .44 an' two tied-down guns. Big black-haired man, the driver said. He didn't know Bodine, but Pete identified him."
    Morton eyed Benson. "I shouldn't wonder," he said, and Chuck flushed.
    Each knew what the other was thinking. Pete Daly had never liked Bodine. Nat married the girl Pete wanted, even though it was generally figured Pete never had a look-in with her, anyway, but Daley had worn his hatred like a badge ever since. Mary Callahan had been a pretty girl, but a quiet one, and Daley had been sure he'd Win her.
    But Bodine had come down from the hills and changed all that. He was a tall man with broad shoulders, dark hair, and a quiet face. He was a good-looking man, even a handsome man, some said. Men liked him, and women too, but the men liked him best because he left their women alone. That was more than could be said for Daley, who lacked Bodine's good looks but made up for it with money.
    Bodine had bought a place near town and drilled a good well. He seemed to have money, and that puzzled people, so hints began to get around that he had been rustling as well as robbing stages. There were those, like Jim Morton, who believed most of the stories wer e started by Daley, but no matter where they originated, they got around.
    Hanging Bodine for killing the sheriff-the fact that he was still alive was overlooked and considered merely a technical question, anyway-was the problem before the posse. It was a