Keno saw the cattle buyer approaching, he rode out of the copse of trees and down the little hill to meet him.
“Mr. Montgomery, it’s good to see you again,” Keno said. “Do you have the money?”
“I have the money, two hundred fifty dollars. That’s what you asked for,” Montgomery said. “Where are the cattle?”
“They’re right back here in the—” Keno began, but when he turned around he saw Smoke Jensen along with Pearlie and Cal riding up behind him, having just emerged from the same copse of trees where he had been waiting for Montgomery.
“Jensen!” Keno said.
“Keno,” Smoke replied.
“Uh—Mr. Jensen, this here fella is C.D. Montgomery,” Keno said quickly. “If you want to know where some of your cows have been goin’, well, he’s been buyin’ ’em from the thieves that’s been takin’ ’em. I just smoked him out for you.”
“Did you now?” Smoke asked.
“Yes, sir, you can check him out for yourself. He’s got the money right there in his hand. Two hunnert ’n fifty dollars. That’s what I told him I wanted for the cows—just to see if he would take the bait, you see.”
“Here is your money back, Smoke,” Montgomery said, handing the money over to the ranch owner. “I appreciate the loan.”
“Thanks, C.D. I appreciate you coming to me about this,” Smoke said.
“Your money?” Keno asked, looking at the exchange. “What do you mean your money? What’s goin’ on here?”
“C.D. is a friend of mine,” Smoke said. “When you went to him with the offer to sell him fifty cows for five dollars a head, then told him to meet you on Sugarloaf, he came straight to me.”
Keno glared at Montgomery, his eyes flashing intense anger and hatred.
“Why, you sorry son of a bitch!” Keno said. He went for his gun, but before he could draw it, Pearlie moved his horse quickly toward him, and the action knocked Keno from his saddle.
Keno fell heavily alongside his horse; then started again to reach for the pistol he had just dropped. A shot sounded out and Keno’s pistol was knocked across the ground, the wood on the grip shattered by the impact of the bullet.
“Don’t push it any further,” Smoke cautioned. Smoke was holding a pistol. A small wisp of smoke curled up from the barrel.
“All right, so what are you going to do now?” Keno asked, getting up and brushing his hands together. “Are you plannin’ on takin’ me into town and throwin’ me in jail?”
“No,” Smoke said. “You didn’t do anything. You were plannin’ it, but you didn’t do it. Be on your way, Keno. And don’t bother to ever come back to Sugarloaf.”
“You don’t have to worry none about that,” Keno said. “If I don’t never see this place again, it’ll be too soon.”
Remounting his horse, Keno glared at Montgomery, Smoke, Pearlie, and Cal.
“Here, I believe this is yours,” Cal said, handing Keno’s pistol back to him. “I hope you don’t mind, I took out all the bullets.”
Continuing his hateful glare, Keno stuck the empty pistol down into his holster, then turned his horse and rode away.
The four men watched Keno for a moment to make certain he was leaving. Then Smoke turned toward Montgomery. “C.D., how about having lunch with us? I’m sure Sally can come up with something worth eating.”
Cal laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Smoke asked.
“Your sayin’ you’re sure Miss Sally can come up with somethin’ worth eatin’. That’s what’s funny,” Cal said. “Why, Miss Sally is that good a cook, she could stew a boot and it would be good.”
“A boot?” Montgomery said.
Smoke laughed. “Don’t worry, C.D. It’ll be more than a boot, I promise you.”
“It sounds good to me,” Montgomery said. “I’d love to join you.”
“Come on, Cal,” Pearlie said. “What say me and you get these cows back where they belong?”
“I’m right behind you,” Cal answered.
“More mashed potatoes, Mr. Montgomery?” Sally asked, holding up a bowl of the white, steaming viand.
“Yes, please, and a little gravy, too, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind at all,” Sally said, “Sugarloaf is so far out that having a guest for a meal is actually quite a treat for us.”
“Trust me, Mrs. Jensen, with the way you cook, it’s a lot more of a treat for the guests,” Montgomery said, holding out his plate for seconds.
“Mr. Montgomery, do you know a man named Byron Davencourt?” Sally asked as she spooned the potatoes on to his plate.
Montgomery looked up in surprise. “Why, yes. As a matter of fact I do know Byron. Quite well, in fact. Why do you ask?”
“I read in the newspaper that he has signed a contract with the U.S. Army to supply beef,” Sally said.
“Well, I’ll be. So, the deal came through for him, did it?” Montgomery said. “I knew that Byron was working on it. Good for him, I’m glad he was able to pull it off.”
“The reason I’m asking is, that’s going to take a lot of beef, isn’t it? I mean for him to fulfill the contract?”
“I’ll say it’s going to take a lot,” Montgomery answered. “As a matter of fact, if there is any problem at all with the deal Byron has, it’s going to be in managing to buy enough cows to fill the contract.”
“Do you think Mr. Davencourt would be willing to pay a premium price for the beef? Say, more than you can pay right now?”
Montgomery looked up at Sally, then chuckled. “Well, now,” he said. “And here, all this time, I thought we were just having a friendly conversation. You are looking at the business side of it, aren’t you?”
“C.D., anyone who knows us knows that Sally is the one who has the business head,” Smoke offered. He cut a piece of meat and shoved it into his mouth.
“I can see that,” Montgomery replied. He smiled at Sally. “Yes, ma’am, Mrs. Jensen, I expect ole Byron will have to pay a little extra in order to get all the cows he needs.”
“The paper said he’ll be shipping out of Frisco,” Sally said. “So, I expect that means that anyone who plans to do business with him would probably have to take their cows there.” Walking over to the pie saver, Sally removed an apple pie.
“I expect so,” Montgomery agreed. “Oh, my!” he said, his eyes growing large with anticipation and appreciation when he saw what Sally brought to the table. “Apple pie? I do believe I have died and gone to heaven.”
“I know that you have bought cattle from us in the past. I hope you would not be put out if we sold to Mr. Davencourt,” Sally said as she cut a particularly generous piece of pie and put it on a plate for Montgomery.
“Oh, heavens, no, Mrs. Jensen,” Montgomery said. “As I told you, Byron is a friend of mine. I want to see him succeed. Besides, I know we will do more business together.”
“Would you like a piece of cheese on top of the pie?” Sally asked.
“Oh,” Montgomery said, his eyes rolling up in bliss. “You are an angel.”
That night, as Smoke lay in bed with his hands laced behind his head, he was looking at Sally. Sally was sitting at the dresser, brushing her hair, the action lighted by a single