Madigan covered them as he moved around the corner in full view. “Seems to me you took an awful chance coming up to the cabin the way you did. You left yourself open for someone to get the drop on you.”
“We weren’t hunting any trouble,” the big man replied.
“Then why’d you sneak up to the cabin without hailing it first?”
The boy turned toward Madigan and for the first time, Madigan realized he was not a boy at all, but a very small man.
“We ran into trouble back on the trail and weren’t sure who we might meet up with. You can see our point for being cautious. We just wanted to make sure it wasn’t any of the bunch that’s been trailing us, that’s all,” the little man said.
Well, maybe they were tellin’ the truth and maybe they weren’t. The main thing was that Madigan had gotten himself into a fix he couldn’t see an easy way out of. If he’d not been wounded, he would have the time to hear them out and get a feeling for if they were telling the truth. But even as Madigan stood there he could feel his legs start to weaken and was having a hard time keeping the gun up.
Why, Madigan thought to himself, did everything have to happen to him? He’d started for California not bothering anyone and not wanting to be bothered by anyone. Just a peaceful ride, seeing the country, doing a little fishing along the way, mayhap a bit of huntin’. But life has a way of changing the best-laid plans. Usually, it only threw you a few problems along the way to make things interesting, or annoying at most, although Madigan could honestly say this was not one of those times. In the space of a few weeks he’d almost been blown up, chased from here to hell and back, and finally shot, not to mention the men he had to kill.
Now Madigan was saddled with the added problem of trying to figure out what to do with two men that could be friend or foe and he had no way of tellin’ which. Of course, he could just shoot them on the spot and deal with his conscience later. Just thinking of it made Madigan realize that he must still be half out of his head. As it was, the decision was taken out of Madigan’s hands.
Standing there with his gun covering the two men, he suddenly became aware of a strange look on their faces. Then everything seemed to turn upside down as if he was being drawn down into a deep whirlpool from which there was no escape.
Around and around he went, deeper and deeper into the void, the faces of the men growing wider and wider until they stretched themselves into grotesque masks. Was he seeing the face of death? Then. . blackness. No sound, no pain, just total blackness. The blackest black Madigan had ever seen.
The first thing Madigan remembered was a flash of light, then blackness again. Next came a blast of sound as if the whole world was crashing in on him. Madigan’s hand tightened on the gun, but it wasn’t there. Slowly, ever so slowly, his senses crept back to him. The blackness turned to gray, then brown.
Noises kept entering his head to bounce back and forth in indiscernible patterns. At last a word filtered through, then another and another. “He’s coming to,” someone said.
A smell drifted by and Madigan’s stomach growled.
“He’ll be hungry when he wakes up,” another voice from some distant place said.
It seemed like hours, days, before his mind cleared enough to open his eyes. When he did, Madigan found himself lying back on the cot. What’s that smell, he wondered, not quite able to make out what it was yet.
Madigan felt a coolness on his forehead. A hand came into view and lifted a damp rag from him, and a drop of water fell into his eye. He blinked and his vision cleared some more, enabling him to see the big man sitting by his side on a chair that looked too small for the man.
“Well, you’re back to the land of the living, I see,” the big man said.
“Who are you?” Madigan asked weakly.
“You rest a while, then we’ll talk,” the big man said with a gentle smile. “When you feel up to it, we’ll fix you something to eat.”
Madigan must have dozed off, for when he awoke there was the smell of stew cooking. Seeing him awake, the two men came over and asked if he was strong enough to eat at the table. Madigan was, so they helped him to the table, where a bowl of hot stew and a cup of coffee waited. Over food they made friendly conversation.
Madigan found out the big man’s name was Pete LaRue and the other went by the name of Shorty. Both were well educated and seemed friendly enough, but deep down he’d the feeling they were hiding something.
“You both seem to be honest men,” Madigan said at long last, looking from one to the other, “but I feel there’s something you left out.”
The two men glanced at each other as if caught in an embarrassing situation, then seemed to reach an unspoken agreement.
“Speaking of honesty,” LaRue said, suddenly growing uneasy, “we were part of the bunch that tried to kill you a few weeks ago.” LaRue looked down at his hands nervously, beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. “In fact, I was the leader. For reasons that are now not even clear to me, I allowed those men to try to gun you down. Please believe me when I say there has not been a day gone by since that I have not regretted it.”
Coming to his feet, the big man came to Madigan’s side. “Shorty didn’t have anything to do with it. He’s just along for the ride, you might say. When you’re well again, if you want to have me pay for my actions, I’ll give you more than a fair chance at my hide. You deserve more, but that’s all I have at present.”
“Was it one of you that shot me?”
“Not us. We’re not ambushers. So, like I said, if you want a chance at my hide I won’t blame you.
“Thanks,” was about all Madigan could think to say, but he knew deep in his heart that the three of them would be friends. They were all too much alike not to be. Revenge would serve no purpose.
“How many of your boys did I get with the big bruiser?” Madigan asked.
“You mean that buffalo gun of yours? Madigan nodded his head. “Two out on the plains. But all told, you cost me five men, although two of them weren’t your doing.”
“What do you mean?” Madigan asked fully expecting the answer.
“Sent a couple after you with several horses to run you down.”
“Smart move on your part.”
“I thought so too. Only trouble was, they ran smack into a big old grizzly while it was feeding or wounded, I don’t know which. Guess he didn’t take too kindly to them intruding, so he made a meal of both of the men!
“Only thing I couldn’t figure out was why they got off their horses and went into the brush where the bear was, unless it scared the horses so bad they threw the riders. Could have happened so fast the grizzly killed them the second they hit the ground.
“Never really know how, but sure makes me have a lot of respect for those big bears. Be glad you didn’t have to see it. Those men were a mess. Believe me, it was gruesome.”
“I did see it!”
LaRue gave Madigan a startled look. “How?”
“I set it up so the men would take cover in the brush where the bear was. I chanced to see them coming right after I’d a run-in with the grizzly, so I worked my way around it, then waited for your men.” Madigan took in a deep breath as he remembered how he shook at the sight of the bear attack.
“When your men came hell-bent-for-leather around the corner, I was in the middle of the trail with my rifle pointed at them. Natural thing for a man to do is dismount and run for cover. That’s just what they did, only the bear was waiting for them.
“So you see, both of us will have to live with the regret of our actions for the rest of our lives. So unless you have a mind to, just forget about a showdown between us,” Madigan said sadly. “Now how about some more stew, and fill it up this time. That stuff makes a man’s belly cry out for more. By the way, if you don’t mind me askin’, what happened to the rest of your men?”