Violence of the Mountain Man. William W. Johnstone

just passed had gone on to other jobs, and even though he had not been particularly popular with the others, a few of them had even invited Keno to come with them.

      “Thanks anyway, but I got me some other plans in mind,” Keno replied.

      “What plans you got?” one of the cowboys asked.

      “Just plans,” Keno answered.

      Keno was vague about his plans because it wouldn’t do for anyone else to know what they were. But before leaving Sugarloaf, Keno had moved fifty head of unbranded Sugarloaf cattle into a hidden box canyon and penned them up inside. His plans were to sell the cattle and get enough money to head down to Arizona or New Mexico or even Texas. It didn’t really make that much difference to him where he went, just as long as he left Colorado.

      Keno was here to meet a man who was going to help him carry out those plans, and as he looked up, he saw the man he was to meet coming in through the batwing doors. Toby Jeeter was considerably older than Keno, and his hair and beard were laced with gray. He nodded at Keno, then stopped at the bar to buy a beer before he joined Keno at the table.

      “I found a buyer,” Jeeter said.

      “Who is it?”

      “His name is C.D. Montgomery. He’s a cattle dealer from over in Wheeler.”

      “Did you tell him when and where to meet me?”

      “He’ll be here to talk to you this afternoon,” Jeeter replied.

      “Good.”

      “When do I get my money?”

      “As soon as I get my money, you’ll get your thirty dollars,” Keno promised.

      “You didn’t say nothin’ ’bout me havin’ to wait,” Jeeter said. “You told me to find a buyer and you would pay me.”

      “How do you expect me to pay you before I sell the cows?” Keno asked.

      Jeeter scratched at his beard, then pulled out a flea. He examined it for a moment, then crushed it between his fingernails. “All right, I’ll wait. But I want fifty.”

      “What do you mean? Thirty dollars is a month’s wages and you didn’t do anything for the money. “

      “I set up a meeting for you with a cattle buyer. That’s what you asked for.”

      “All right, fifty dollars,” Keno said. “But it better pay off.”

      “It will,” Jeeter said. “Montgomery buys cattle all the time.”

      True to his word, Jeeter brought Montgomery to the saloon that afternoon. Montgomery was an older man, but his well-kept silver hair, clean-shaven face, and tailored clothes made him a very distinguished-looking figure.

      “Keno, this here is Mr. Montgomery,” Jeeter said. “This here is Keno,” he added.

      “Mr. Montgomery,” Keno said. “Have a seat.”

      Taking out his handkerchief, Montgomery brushed off the chair before he sat down.

      “Would you like a beer?” Keno asked.

      “Thank you, no,” Montgomery replied.

      “I, uh, reckon that Jeeter told you what this was all about, didn’t he?”

      “He said you had some cattle for sale.”

      “Yeah, I do. Fifty head. I know it ain’t all that much, but it’s all I got at the moment.”

      “All right, deliver them to me at the railhead in—” Montgomery began, but Keno interrupted him.

      “You’re goin’ to have to come get ’em your own self,” Keno said.

      “I’m going to have to come get them? See here, that is most unusual,” Montgomery said. “Most of the time when I buy cattle, they are delivered to me.”

      “Yeah, well, this ain’t most of the time,” Keno said. “And you ain’t never got no cattle this good for this cheap.”

      “I don’t have any idea how cheap they are,” Montgomery said. “You haven’t mentioned a price.”

      “What do you normally pay for cattle?”

      “About twenty-five dollars a head,” Montgomery answered.

      Keno smiled broadly. The broken and discolored teeth the smile displayed caused Montgomery to glance away in quick but repressed revulsion.

      “I’ll sell ’em to you for five dollars a head.”

      “Five dollars a head?” Montgomery said, reacting to the price.

      “Does that sound good to you?” Keno asked.

      “Yes, it sounds very good,” Montgomery replied. “But I don’t understand. Why so cheap?” Montgomery frowned. “Are these stolen cattle, Mr. Keno?”

      “There ain’t a brand on a one of them,” Keno said.

      “You didn’t answer my question, Mr. Keno. Are these stolen cattle?”

      “Five dollars a head,” Keno said. “Do you want them or not?”

      “Where are they now?”

      “They are safe.”

      “Five dollars a head,” Montgomery repeated. “You aren’t going to change your mind later on now, are you?”

      “No, I ain’t goin’ to change my mind,” Keno said.

      Montgomery was quiet for a long moment as he thought about the situation. Finally, he nodded.

      “Yes, I’ll take them,” he said. “When and where do I come for them?”

      “Do you know where Sugarloaf Ranch is?”

      “Yes, of course I know. I don’t think there is anyone in Eagle County who doesn’t know where Sugarloaf is.”

      “All right, you come out there just after noon tomorrow,” Keno said.

      “Where exactly should I come?” Montgomery asked. “Sugarloaf is a big ranch. I suppose I could stop by the Big House and ask for directions.”

      “No! No, don’t do that,” Keno replied quickly and earnestly. “Look, you know where Old Woman Creek goes into the canyon? It’s at the far west end of the ranch.”

      “Yes, I know the place.”

      “There’s a little thicket of trees there. You come to the trees, I’ll meet you there. Bring the money with you. Two hundred fifty dollars.”

      “You’ll have the cattle?”

      “Yeah, I’ll have them,” Keno said.

      “Then I will have the money.”

      “Say, Mr. Montgomery, is there any way you could maybe pay fifty dollars now?” Keno asked. “Sort of on good faith, so to speak?”

      “Can you produce ten cows now on good faith?” Montgomery replied.

      “No, how would I do that?”

      Montgomery stood up and pushed the chair back up under the table. “Very well, then I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon,” he said. “Good day to you, Mr. Keno.” He looked toward Jeeter and nodded. “And to you, Mr. Jeeter,” he added.

      Jeeter chuckled as Montgomery walked out of the saloon. “Did you really think he would give you fifty dollars now?” he asked. “What the hell were you thinking about?”

      “I was thinking that if he would give me some of the money in advance, I would be able to pay you thirty dollars right now and save myself twenty more dollars later on,” Keno said.

      “Hell, I could’a told you a man like C.D. Montgomery wouldn’t