[Texas Rangers 05] - Texas Vendetta by Elmer Kelton Page B

It’s a blood thing now.”
    Farley looked at Andy and shrugged. “No use arguin’ with him. You can’t talk sense to people like that.”
    Andy said, “It’s a good thing for Dick Landon that he joined the Rangers and got away from the trouble.”
    Farley grunted. “Even Dick’ll bear watchin’. He’s got bad blood in him.”
    Andy could count on one hand the times he had heard Farley speak well of somebody, and he could give back a couple of fingers.
    Jayce said, “If you think the Landon blood is bad, wait till you meet the Hoppers.”
    Hearing hoofbeats behind him, Andy turned in the saddle. He counted six riders. Farley demanded, “Who are they, Jayce?”
    Jayce looked back in dismay. “They’re Hoppers … Hoppers and their kin.”
    Andy said, “Five Landons in front, six Hoppers behind, and us in the middle.”
    Farley growled, “Best thing would be for us to pull out of the way and let them settle their stupid feud for good.”
    Andy considered the situation, then moved his horse toward the six men.
    Farley shouted, “What do you think you’re doin’?”
    Andy did not answer. He drew his rifle from its scabbard, laid it across his lap, and rode almost within touching distance of the horsemen. “Which one of you is in charge of this bunch?”
    A big bear of a man with a short, curly beard said, “Ain’t nobody in charge. We’re workin’ together to see justice done.”
    “And your name?”
    “I’m James Hopper. Big’un, they call me.” He looked strong enough to wrestle a bull to the ground from a standing start. He was half a head taller and fifty pounds heavier than any of the men who rode with him.
    Andy swung the rifle muzzle around to point at the man’s belly. He jerked his head. “Come on, Big’un. You’re ridin’ up there with us. The rest of you stay back. If one of you makes a move against us and our prisoner, I’ll blow this gentleman’s lights out.”
    The bearded man protested, “I’ll have you know that I’m a deputy sheriff. Appointed by the county judge hisself. What gives you the right to tell me what to do?”
    “This rifle does. Are you comin’ or do I shoot you right here?”
    Hopper did not consider long. “I’m comin’. The rest of you better do like he says.”
    One of the riders was a smaller man but had the same facial features as Big’un. He said, “He’s bluffin’. Say the word and we’ll take him.”
    Big’un declared, “Shut up, Harp. We don’t need no blood spilled here. Not mine anyway.”
    Andy started Big’un moving toward Farley and Jayce. Big’un said, “You look kind of young to pack so much authority.”
    “A gun makes everybody the same size.”
    Farley looked the deputy over, then turned critical eyes on Andy. “What did you bring him for?”
    “For insurance.”
    “You think you could really kill him if you had to?”
    “You said to never give them an inch.”
    Farley almost nodded in approval but caught himself. “Lookin’ at you right now I’d swear you’re a Comanche after all.”
    Andy took that as a left-handed compliment, the only kind Farley Brackett gave.
    Jayce’s face hardened, displaying his hatred of the bearded man. “Well, Big’un, looks like they’ve got you the same as they’ve got me.”
    Hopper’s eyes burned with malice. “Not quite the same. They’ll turn me loose when we get to town. They’re already stackin’ lumber over by the jailhouse to build your scaffold.”
    Farley broke in. “I’ve got half a mind to cut you two coyotes loose and let you go at one another, but there’s probably some fool law against it. So both of you shut the hell up.”
    A mile from town they were met by the county sheriff. Jayce’s supporters pulled to one side but did not leave. The Hoppers started to move up, but Andy made a show of pressing the rifle’s muzzle against Big’un’s midsection. That stopped them.
    Big’un complained, “Damn it, Ranger, you got to bruise my ribs?”
    A middle-aged man