High Riders"
"Johnny," Scott said urgently, as he approached the motionless form. The boy's face turned towards him, the eyelids flew open and a pair of brilliant blue eyes stared up at him accusingly. And that's when Scott Lancer woke up.
As he lay there staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling, the words, "You traitor, you'll pay", echoed through his mind in what Scott now recognized as Lt. Dan Cassidy's voice. Cassidy had accused Scott of betraying an ill-fated attempt to escape from Libby Prison. It had been Dan who had planned the escape, before he had been taken ill and confined to the camp hospital, leaving Scott in charge as second in rank. The other men had insisted on carrying out the escape effort as scheduled. They had failed utterly, and Scott had been the sole survivor. Now his nightmares of the carnage of the disastrous attempt had become entangled with his memories of his brother Johnny--both his childhood fantasy and the recently encountered reality.
Scott knew from experience that there was no point in trying to go back to sleep with the early dawn light already entering his window. He slowly climbed out of bed and eased into a shirt to ward off the early morning chill.
A short time later, shaved and dressed in his new "western" clothes, Scott slipped into the hallway carrying his gun belt and hat. When he reached the entryway, he deposited the items on the hall tree and then endeavored to locate the kitchen. The scent of freshly brewed coffee lured him in the right direction. Stopping in the doorway, he offered up a "Hello?" in order to avoid startling anyone who might be at work inside the room.
A round-faced Mexican woman came into view, wiping her hands on the apron tied about her substantial waist. "Buenas dias," she said with a smile. "Good morning. You are Senor Scott?"
"Yes, I am," he replied, returning her smile. "Bu-e-nass dee-ass, and you are . . ?"
"Senora Maria Constancia Aguilera de Alvarez," she said rapidly, then waved her hand, as if to negate it all. "I am Maria."
"I was just hoping to find some coffee," he explained, gesturing toward the pot on the stove.
Maria stood still for a moment with her hands on her hips, her eyes appraising. Then: "Come, sit, sit," she said, indicating the kitchen table and the four wooden chairs around it. Without waiting for Scott to comply, the woman bustled over to the sideboard, procuring a cup and bowl of sugar, which she placed on the table. Scott eased
into a chair and waited while Maria provided a pitcher of cream and then, finally, the silver coffee pot, dispensing the dark liquid. As Scott inhaled the rich aroma, he smiled contentedly, then carefully added cream and a touch of sugar to his cup. When he lifted the cup and savored the first few sips, he noted that the woman--Maria--was busy with something at the stove. He set his cup down and addressed a question to her back. "How do I say `thank you`?"
Maria turned, a puzzled expression on her face, not immediately certain what the young blonde Senor Lancer was asking her. "In Spanish," he added.
Maria's smile split her face once more. "Gracias."
Scott raised his cup and repeated the word. "Gra-ci-us."
Then, "Coffee?" he asked.
"Cafe" was her response. Next she held up an egg: "huevo", just as Scott refilled his cup. He started to rise, thinking to take his coffee to the dining room, when Maria held up a hand and addressed him insistently. "Sit, sit. I will make for you the huevos ranchos."
Scott`s usual breakfast consisted of coffee and a piece of toast. He had no idea what Senora Alvarez was about to prepare, but he decided that it would be impolite to refuse. Maria set to work wielding a large iron skillet, and murmuring to herself in Spanish. Scott had no way of knowing that the woman was commenting disapprovingly on his lean physique.
Sometime later, Scott had just finished working his way through a large plate of Mexican style omelet when Murdoch Lancer entered the kitchen. Maria greeted him and a second cup of coffee was swiftly produced. Scott listened with great interest as his father and Maria conversed in Spanish. He wasn't certain, but he thought that he might have heard his mother's name. Maria set about preparing breakfast for el patron.
Coffee cup in hand, Murdoch gestured towards the doorway. "Join me in the Great Room," he said to Scott, as Maria bustled past with a full plate.
Scott followed his father and sat down at the table. Murdoch Lancer concentrated on his breakfast for a few minutes, while Scott nursed yet another cup of coffee.
"Did you read many of the Pinkerton reports? " Murdoch asked, finally addressing his son.
"I got through a few of them."
Murdoch set his fork down on the table. "Does what you read fit the man you met?"
"Well, that's hard to say."
Murdoch looked at Scott with some intensity. Then, "Tell me about him," he instructed the younger man.
Scott nodded. "All right." He began slowly, with a description of Johnny`s physical appearance, his distinctive attire. Scott explained that Johnny had approached him as soon as he had identified himself by name; "I didn't realize at the time that it might be unwise to be associated with Lancer," was his dry comment. "He asked me a few questions about you, questions which I was unable to answer. And then he told me a little about your `problems' with Pardee."
Throughout this recitation, Murdoch had been staring at his plate, no longer eating his breakfast, but sitting motionless, listening to Scott. He looked up at this last. "So you already knew about the threat to the ranch," he said flatly.
"I did," Scott responded. Murdoch Lancer realized that when his son had inquired as to why his father, had sent for him that Scott had quite likely been testing him.
As Murdoch lapsed into silence once more, Scott continued his story. He briefly described Pardee's entrance into the saloon, mentioned that `they' had gone elsewhere to talk. Murdoch noted that Scott did not make reference to physical force being used, and wondered whether the mark on his son's face was the work of Day Pardee or of Johnny himself. Scott did explain that his brother had intervened, that it had been Johnny who had suggested that Pardee send Scott to the ranch as a messenger.
"But he didn't acknowledge his relationship to me?"
"No, sir, he didn't. I'm quite certain that his associates are unaware of the connection between you." Murdoch did not look happy about that. "There was something else . ." Scott said slowly. "In our earlier conversation, I had mentioned my military service. . . . But Johnny didn't say anything about that to Pardee; in fact, he strongly implied that I'd be of no help to you. I believe in order to convince him to let me go."
Murdoch silently contemplated exactly what that might mean. "He has no reason to wish you any harm," he said finally. Murdoch sipped at his lukewarm coffee and Scott studied his father, wondering what the man was thinking.
There was a knock on the door. Murdoch rose to open it, but two men abruptly entered without waiting. Scott recognized the foreman---Cipriano?-- who entered behind a younger man who seemed quite agitated. "Senor Lancer!"
"What is it, Miguel?"
"It is terrible! Oh, what I have seen, Senor, what I have seen!"
Cipriano quickly explained that a nearby home had been attacked. Murdoch went immediately to the hall tree, grabbed his gun belt and put it on, firing questions at Cipriano as he did so. Taking his hat from one of the uppermost branches, he turned and was gratified to see Scott come up behind him and then reach for a gun belt of his own. Outside the hacienda, they climbed into a waiting buckboard wagon. Scott took the reins and urged the team into motion. Cipriano, Miguel and several other vaqueros led the way on horseback.
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More senseless destruction. But this time it was different. Lives had been lost. Two innocent lives, apparently killed by the land pirates in order to send Murdoch Lancer a message. Murdoch shook his head. He had delegated a few men to tend to the wreckage, bury the bodies. The rest returned home.
"This sickens me," he said quietly, staring straight ahead. "And even more so to think that your brother is involved in this."
Beside him in the buckboard, Scott nodded soberly. He had to acknowledge that it was certainly possible that Johnny had participated. He recognized, however, that only a small handful of man would have been necessary to do the deed; clearly not all twenty would have been needed. The hoof prints leading away from the farmhouse bore that out.
"Those tracks," he pointed out, "They may lead to their camp." Murdoch nodded. No more was said en route to the hacienda, both men deep in thought.
Jumping down from the wagon, Scott addressed his father's foreman. "Cipriano, how well do you know these mountains?"
"Like the back of my hand, Senor."
"Is there a pass?" was Scott's next question.
Receiving an affirmative response, Scott then addressed Murdoch, who had climbed down slowly from the buckboard and then walked around the wagon to join them. "I'll go after them, take a dozen men. That is, if you agree."
Murdoch hesitated. "It could be a trap."
"The thought had occurred to me." Scott did not elaborate; he simply stood waiting for Murdoch's answer, a carefully neutral expression on his face. Looking at Scott contemplatively, Murdoch Lancer viewed this as another test. Was he willing to entrust the safety of the ranch to his son? For if Scott was wrong, there was no question that the ranch would be at risk. Speaking very deliberately, he announced: "I say you go." His expression still serious, Scott nodded. Then he turned to Cipriano: "I'll need a horse . . . .and a carbine. I think we should leave the best marksmen behind. Will you choose the men?"
"Si, Senor."
Scott headed to the stable with Miguel to select a mount. Cipriano addressed his employer. "It is good he is here." Murdoch nodded his agreement and headed inside for weapons and ammunition.
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Much later in the day, Pardee, Coley and a handful of other members of the gang returned to town to gather the "rest of the boys", including Johnny Madrid. Pardee announced that they would be heading out just before dawn and having breakfast at the Lancer ranch. After the other men had left to prepare for the attack, Johnny pulled Day aside and asked him why he was so sure that they'd be riding right on in.
"Lancer's city slicker son? We laid a trail up through the mountains and he took the bait. Led a crew of ranch hands right on after us." Day grinned and slapped Johnny on the shoulder. "I figure Lancer's got less than half a dozen men left at the house. Gonna be real easy Johnny."
Johnny returned a grin of his own: "That's good news, Day. Nothin' wrong with easy." But he felt some disappointment. Somehow he'd expected a bit more from Scott Lancer than riding right on into the very first trap that was set for him. Well, it was a good thing he hadn't let on to the man just who he was. Johnny headed slowly back over to Gus' place and had a bite to eat, thinking about the next morning, when he'd be meeting Murdoch Lancer face to face. <<Guess he didn't recognize the name `Madrid',>>. Johnny thought. <<Or else ol'Boston forgot to tell give `im tha message.>>
His small meal finished, Johnny headed upstairs. When he turned to close the door to his room, he immediately felt the presence of another person. As his right hand reached for his gun, he heard a weapon cock and a quiet voice say, "I wouldn't." He paused for a moment, considering, decided that he recognized the accent and held his hands away from his body as he slowly turned to face the interior of the darkened room.
He grinned as he recognized the man seated in the only chair. "Thought that sounded like you. Hey, I heard you were stumblin' around in the dark, up in the mountains, with a bunch of cowhands for company."
Scott Lancer kept his pistol carefully trained on Johnny Madrid. "We rode far enough to fool your friends."
Johnny grin widened. "Ol'Day's convinced you're still up in the hills with the entire Lancer crew. Musta doubled back, huh? Decoyed the decoy?"
"It's a military tactic I'm familiar with."
Johnny`s smile suddenly disappeared. "So what`re you doin' here, Boston?"
Scott`s eyes narrowed at that appellation: "Well, Brother, it seems there was something you forgot to mention when we spoke earlier."
Johnny's face assumed a grim expression. "Weren't sure you'd believe me."
Scott inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement of that reasoning. He also noted that Johnny hadn't especially liked being called "Brother". Scott didn`t say anything more, merely continued to regard Johnny in the dim light, a somewhat expectant look on his face. Johnny shrugged. "Ya might as well put that gun away, we both know ya ain't planning ta use it." Scott again nodded in recognition of the truth of that statement. He then slowly lowered his weapon, glancing down briefly to adjust the holster so that he could sheath the weapon while in his seated position. When Scott looked back up, he was staring at the barrel of Johnny's gun.
The blonde man met Johnny's eyes: "I'd heard you were fast," he commented as he settled himself more comfortably in the chair.
"Being this trustin', you must get taken pretty often."
"I guess I do," was the calm response.
Johnny noted with approval that the Easterner betrayed no apprehension or fear, merely continued to regard him impassively. "You play poker?" he asked seriously.
"I do," Scott replied again, but this time one eyebrow raised, ever so slightly, at the unexpected question.
"Well, I'd be willin' to stake you."
Scott continued to look at Johnny. Finally he posed a question of his own: "How does one thousand dollars sound as a stake?"
"You tryin' ta buy me, Boston?"
Scott was annoyed at the repeated use of the pseudonym, though he kept his tone carefully neutral. "In case you didn't catch the name, it's Scott."
Johnny smiled again, then holstered his weapon. "So, Scott, tell me `bout this $1000 you're offerin'."
"Oh, it's not my offer. It's Murdoch Lancer who's willing to pay. One thousand dollars for one hour of your time. That Pinkerton agent, the one that found you, well, it seems that he didn't have the opportunity to tell you about it."
"You sayin' Murdoch Lancer sent him?"
"That's right."
Johnny stood looking down at the floor, thinking about this information. It had to be the truth, or how would Boston--Scott--even know about that agent? So it had been Murdoch Lancer who had sent Thomas to search for Johnny Madrid. He wondered if the city boy here knew about that firing squad too.
Still seated in a relaxed position in the chair, Scott offered some additional information. "Apparently, he's had agents searching for you for quite some time."
The dark haired man looked up at him: "Yeah?"
"Off and on for twenty years." When Johnny snorted at that, Scott added: "I've seen the stack of Pinkerton reports."
"You read any of `em?"
"Only the most recent ones. But the others are there, and they go back quite a ways."
Johnny jiggled his hands in an agitated movement. "So I guess he recognized the name then."
"He did," Scott assured him. Then he took a chance. "He said that he woke up one morning, to find that your mother was gone, and you along with her."
Johnny flashed angrily at that: "That ain't the way I heard it."
"Well, I've heard some things myself--and I haven't known the man long enough yet to decide what's true. But he's willing to pay you a thousand dollars to listen to what he has to say," Scott said mildly.
"Well, that don't come close ta matchin' what Day's offerin'."
"Oh, there's more: a one third ownership in his ranch."
"He offer you that?"
"He did."
"So you're thinking of stayin' on, doin' some ranchin`?" Johnny laughed disparagingly. "Well, you can forget it . . . Pardee and his boys are raiding that ranch in a few hours. Ol'Murdoch's gonna be run off the place. You were smart, you wouldn't even be goin' back there."
Scott considered his brother. "I'm afraid I have to."
"So you think I'm gonna let you go, cause I did it once before?"
"Yes. And, I had thought that you might come back with me."
Johnny shook his head. "Well, you got it wrong if you think I'm gonna just turn on Day."
"I was hoping you'd lead him into the trap, actually, " Scott said lightly.
Johnny scowled. "What trap? Coming here just means you put in a lot of wasted effort up in those hills."
Dismayed, Scott feigned nonchalance. "Whether you come with me or stay here with him--- either way I expect that now you'll warn them off."
There was a short silence and then Scott decided to try one more tactic. "You said that you'd only been here a few weeks."
"Yeah, that's right."
"Then perhaps you don't realize that it hasn't only been the large landholders like Murdoch Lancer that have been targeted. . . Your friend Pardee started with the smaller ranches." "And small farmers," he added carefully, "Like the ones you were trying to help in Mexico."
Plainly, Johnny was not happy to hear this news.
"So maybe I'll just have ta think about it, Bos----Scott."
"It seems you don't have much time. Not if the raid is set for dawn."
"Well, neither do you, so you'd best be headin' back."
Scott got up slowly and walked past Madrid. As he reached for the doorknob, he heard Johnny address him by name: "Scott?"
He turned and saw that his brother had extended his right hand.
Their eyes met and Johnny gave a little shrug--"I didn't shake with ya before." Scott regarded him without expression. "Good to meet ya."
A smile briefly crossed the blonde man's face as he grasped his brother`s hand. Giving him a searching look, Scott urged one more time: "Come with me."
"Oh, don't you worry, I'll be along," Johnny replied enigmatically.
Chagrined by that ambiguous response, Scott relinquished the hand and turned away quickly in order to hide his dissatisfaction. He edged into the darkened hallway and slowly felt his way back to the staircase. When Scott had first entered the building through the back room of the saloon, he had been fortunate to encounter young Tommy--the boy had said a startled hello to "Mr. Lancer", but then had kept silent at Scott's signal. When Scott had whispered an inquiry for "Mr. Madrid", the boy had responded that the gunfighter was in fact staying upstairs, adding, "He's real nice--not like those other men." In reply to Scott's request, Tommy had willingly given him the room number; he hoped that the boy had not mentioned to anyone that "Mr. Lancer" was on the premises.
Reaching the bottom of the stairway, Scott, eased through the door to the alley behind the saloon. He was relieved to see his horse still quietly waiting. Briefly looking left and right, and seeing no shadowy shapes lying in wait, Scott strode quickly to the animal, mounted and slowly rode to the end of the narrow street. Careful to stay in the shelter of the darkened buildings, he continued on his way to the edge of town. The only small sounds that he thought he heard, other than the steps of his own mount, seemed to come from directly behind him---never drawing closer. Once he reached the open space that indicated the end of the town proper, Scott turned momentarily and peered into the darkness behind him. Still uncertain, he offered a swift salute, then wheeled his animal and galloped off in the direction of the Lancer ranch.
Standing in the shadows, Johnny Madrid allowed himself a small smile at that salute. He felt strangely relieved that the Easterner had apparently made it safely out of town, even though he was still uncertain of his own course of action. Tonight, in the darkness, he had watched silently over his brother, ready to intervene on his behalf if necessary; but tomorrow`s daylight might well find them on opposing sides.
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CONCLUSION:
The subsequent events play out much like the action of the pilot episode, with only a few changes. Johnny Madrid accompanies Day Pardee and the boys, and, on the hill overlooking the ranch, he tells Pardee to get off of "his old man's land." Pardee is understandably skeptical that the gunfighter is really a Lancer, Johnny assures him that he is, and then shoots and wounds Pardee. .
During Johnny's headlong ride towards the hacienda, he is, of course, mounted on a horse other than Barranca; his introduction to the palomino, as well as the demonstration of his brother's equestrian prowess will have to wait. Since Murdoch has never seen his Johnny as an adult, it is Scott who recognizes the approaching rider as his brother and announcing this, calls out for the Lancer men to hold their fire. When Johnny is shot off of his horse and Murdoch poses his question "I wonder what was that boy doing?", Teresa does not make her tearful assertion that he was "Coming back to us", as she has yet to make the acquaintance of Murdoch Lancer's younger son.
When it becomes apparent that Johnny is still alive, Scott goes to his fallen brother's assistance. He shoots Pardee and, just as in the original, the rest of the land pirates decamp. Lying on the ground, Johnny has seen it all.
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"Good shooting."
Scott turned and walked over to the injured man. Johnny looked up at him and managed a weak, lop-sided grin. "Told ya I'd be along."
"I'd just about given up on you, Brother," was Scott's smiling response.
Johnny carefully eased himself into a seated position. "Thought I might as well have a word with the Old Man," he said. Despite Scott's murmured advice to "Take it easy", he struggled to his feet. "That him over there?" Johnny asked, indicating the tall white haired man waiting with a young girl and some of the ranch hands over near the building, some distance away.
"Yes," Scott assured him, and then reached out to grasp Johnny's shoulder as he saw the younger man start to sway a bit. Johnny gritted his teeth and holstered his weapon. He was determined to meet his father standing on his feet, but the pain which shot through him as he took his first step warned the wounded man that carrying out that intention was not going to be easy.
Leaning on his cane, Murdoch Lancer limped slowly towards his sons, Teresa, Cipriano and a few of the vaqueros following in his wake. Intent upon the man who had been identified as his father, Johnny took a few small steps, and then, as he started to collapse, reached out towards Scott. Instantly, his brother's arm went around him, and Cipriano also hastened to the wounded man's side. "Johnny," said Murdoch, as he continued his forward progress.
Johnny regarded him searchingly. "You got something to say Old Man?" he asked just before losing consciousness.
With Cipriano's assistance, Scott carried his brother into the hacienda. The doctor was called in and after tending to Johnny's wound, confidently predicted the patient's full recovery. Murdoch and Teresa took turns sitting beside the injured man's bed, while Scott worked with the hands to repair the damage to the grounds and remove the bodies of those killed in the combat. The next day was also a very busy one, and Scott's conversations with his father were limited to discussions of the work that needed to be done on the ranch.
As luck would have it, Scott was giving Teresa a moment of respite when his brother finally opens his eyes. "Hey, Boston." Johnny's voice was weak, but there was a hint of a friendly tone. "What happened?"
Scott supplied him with information about the outcome of the gun battle with the land pirates and also described the extent of his injury, thoroughly answering Johnny's concerns on those two topics. They lapsed into a silence which was broken by a question which Johnny started but did not finish: "So where's . . .?"
"Murdoch?" Scott asked with immediate comprehension. "I'll get him."
Finding Murdoch Lancer in the Great Room, he informed his father that Johnny was awake. As Murdoch headed for the doorway, Scott said his name: "Murdoch?" The older man turned, waiting to hear what his son had to say.
"Yes, Scott, what is it?"
"Just that I'm sure that he has some questions, Sir." "And," he added, glancing down at the floor momentarily before meeting Murdoch's gaze. "I think you should try and answer them."
THE END
SBC
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