The Return of Caulfield Blake by G. Clifton Wisler Page A

remember you, too,” Roberto said, emerging from the others. “You know my brother Hernando, though he has been away as long a time as you.”
    The thin-faced man nodded, and Blake smiled. Hernando had never been one to back away from a fight, and the two had tangled once or twice in younger years.
    â€œMy wife,” Caulie began, coughing as he realized Hannah now shared another man’s life. “My wife and her ma sold this land to your father.” Caulie continued speaking to the two men with watery eyes. “Your ma helped birth my boys, and it was no easy thing bringin’ that pair of howlin’ coyotes into this life, believe you me. I’m not askin’ you to ride anywhere. I’m just sayin’ we’ve got common cause now as we once did when Comanches did their best to ride us all into the dust. Your papa stood at my elbow the day we killed Little Wolf.
    â€œI’m not makin’ a speech or anythin’, just remindin’ you it wasn’t me told you lies. Whatever happens at Carpenter Creek, you know Henry Simpson’s bound to call here first. You’re closer, for one thing. For another, he’s had an eye on this range for years. Emma Siler sold it to old Arturo more to spite Simpson than anythin’ else.”
    â€œWe know,” Hernando said, producing an old flintlock musket. “We will be ready.”
    â€œWell, you’ll accomplish little with that,” Caulie said. “You may not think my words mean much, but Dix has ordered a case of Winchester repeaters. Make one man into ten. I’ll see how many I can talk him out of for you.”
    â€œWe have no money to pay . . .”
    â€œI didn’t say anythin’ about selling, did I?” Caulie asked, grinning. “An old friend can make you a loan, can’t he? You’ll return them when you’ve finished.”
    â€œI don’t take . . .” Hernando began.
    â€œTake?” Caulie asked. “Lord, I’ve still got a poncho of yours someplace, Hernando. I remember pullin’ cactus thorns out of your backside. You borrowed my pants. Don’t tell me you’re particular about whose rifle you fire!”
    â€œI promise we’ll use them to good effect,” Roberto said, clasping Caulie’s hand. “You should never have let them drive you off, amigo. Old man Simpson has had the run of the range too long.”
    â€œWe’ll just have to run him down like a renegade mustang. You keep your eyes sharp, old friends. Simpson hasn’t been collectin’ shooters out there for the hang of it.”
    â€œYes, he hates us plenty,” Hernando agreed. “But I never hung his son. You watch out yourself, Caulfield Blake. Some of these fellows Simpson has hired have the eyes of an owl. They shoot real well in the dark.”
    â€œI’ll keep that in mind,” Caulie promised as he turned away. He motioned for Dix and Jeff Perry to follow.
    â€œAll the way over here I was sorry we left Marty at his place,” Dix grumbled “Bein’ a neighbor, he has better luck with ’em. That Hernando’s a hard case.”
    â€œMaybe,” Caulie grumbled. “But I’d be happy to have him with me in a tight spot. He’s right about one tiling, Dix. He won’t be runnin’. Get ’em some of those Winchesters. They’ll put ’em to good use.”
    â€œI’ll do it straightaway.”
    â€œI think it’s time for me to head south,” Perry declared, glancing at his pocket watch. “I’ll leave the horse at the livery, Dix. With luck, I’ll catch the three o’clock coach to Austin.”
    â€œJeff, you keep out of trouble’s shadow. It’s dangerous work sidin’ with us,” Caulie warned the young lawyer.
    â€œI’ve known tight corners before, Mr. Blake. You leave me to find my way home.”
    Caulie couldn’t help smiling. Dix had certainly