[Texas Rangers 06] - Jericho's Road by Elmer Kelton Page B

the river lookin’ for somethin’ to steal and gringos to kill. He tells his people that someday he’ll fly the Mexican flag again over everything from the Rio Grande to San Antonio.”
    Len said, “I hear that Jericho Jackson ain’t no angel either. It’s like he built a wall around his ranch and don’t let anybody in that ain’t an outlaw like he is.”
    Andy said, “I remember Preacher Webb talkin’ about a place called Jericho. It had walls, but they fell down.”
    Len nodded. “That was on account of a soldier called Joshua, but I ain’t met anybody around here by that name.”
    Hatton’s eyes flashed in irritation. “I wouldn’t go talkin’ against Jericho. It can get a man hurt.” He pushed to his feet. “Maybe the boys have got supper fixed.” He stalked away.
    Farley turned on Len. “What did you provoke him for? He was tellin’ us things we need to know.”
    “ I remember where I’ve seen him before. He was with a bunch we caught drivin’ stolen horses. We got most of the horses back, but the ones they rode was faster than ours. We suspected they was workin’ for Jericho Jackson, but it’s hard to get anything on him. People like Hatton do his dirty work for him.”
    Farley chewed on what Len said. “You reckon there’s paper out on Hatton?”
    Len grunted. “There ought to be. I’d wager that the cattle they delivered to San Antonio still had Rio Grande mud on them. We better stand guard duty tonight, or we’re liable to find ourselves dead in the mornin’. Or at least afoot. Notice the way he kept lookin’ at our horses?”
    Farley said, “I figured since the men was all white that we had no need to worry.”
    “ White, Mexican, down in this country there’s meanness enough to go around.”
    Andy asked, “So what do we do?”
    Len made a wry smile. “What would your Comanche brothers do if they smelled Apaches?”
    “ They’d sleep with their eyes open and a war club in their hands.”
    Len said, “We’ll do better than that. After good dark we’ll move our horses, then we’ll keep watch.”
    Andy half expected Farley to put up an argument because the idea was Len’s, but he didn’t. They made a show of stringing a rope between two trees and tying their horses and the pack mule to it. Before moonrise they quietly led the animals farther out into the brush and retied the picket line. They returned to camp but remained in the shadows beyond the campfire’s dying light.
    After a time Andy felt himself dozing off. Farley punched him with his elbow. He whispered, “Rub a little tobacco in your eyes. That’ll keep you awake.”
    And maybe blind me, Andy thought. He declined the offer of Farley’s tobacco.
    He felt himself nodding again just before Len gently shook him. “They’re comin’.”
    The fire had burned down to flickering coals that yielded little light. Andy could make out shadowy figures moving stealthily into the Rangers’ camp.
    He recognized Hatton’s voice, raised in disappointment. “They’re gone.”
    Someone else said, “They can’t be gone far. Their camp stuff is here.”
    Farley raised up. “Yes, we’re still here, and you sons of bitches ain’t gettin’ our horses.”
    Pistols blazed on both sides, and then a rifle. Men shouted and cursed. A youthful voice cried out in mortal pain. Hatton’s men backed away, quickly lost in the darkness. Andy heard Hatton shout, “Pick him up and let’s get out of here.”
    The smell of gun smoke was pungent. Andy heard horses moving away from the Hatton camp. His heart pumping with excitement, he said, “We must’ve hit somebody.”
    Farley said, “I thought they would just come after our horses. But they was after us too.”
    Andy said, “No witnesses, no charges.”
    Len said, “No use tryin’ to follow them in the dark. I can’t see that they done us any harm.”
    He was mistaken. At the picket line they found Farley’s horse down. Andy knelt to examine it and found it was dead. “Stray