full of kids and women? Besides, fightin' ain't enough. Anybody with guts and a gun can fight. It's winning that pays off." .
His eyes were measuring me. "What does that mean?" That I'd fallen in his estimation, I knew. Maybe I'd never stood very high .
"That we choose the time to fight," I said. "Together we can whip them, but just showing how tough we are won't help. We've got to get the odds against us as low as we can." .
"Maybe you're right." He was reluctant to agree. "I seen a man lynched once because he shot a kid accidental in a gunfight." He sized me up carefully. "You seemed scared of those three." .
We looked at each other over the coffee cups and inside I felt a slow hot resentment rising, but I kept it down. "I'm not," I told him, "only Chet Bayless is known for eight square killings. Down Sonora way Jerito is figured to have killed twice that many. That Jerito is poison mean, and we can figure on getting hurt even if we win." .
"Never figured them as tough as all that," Tap muttered. Then he shot me a straight, hard glance. "How come you know so much about 'em?" .
"Bayless," I said carefully, "is a Missourian. Used to run with the James boys, but settled in Eagle Pass. Jerito-- everybody in Sonora knows about him." .
The next few days followed pleasant and easy, and we worked hard without any w ord s between us beyond those necessary to work and live. It irritated me that Tap doubted me .
On the fourth afternoon I was stripping the saddle off my steeldust when I heard them coming. A man who lives like I do has good ears and eyes or he don't live at all. "Tap!" I called to him low but sharp. "Riders coming!" .
He straightened up, then shot a look at me. "Sure?" .
"Yeah." I threw my saddle over a log we used for that and slicked my rifle out of the scabbard and leaned it by the shed door. "Just let 'em come." .
They rode into the yard in a compact bunch and Tap Henry walked out to meet them. Bayless was there, riding with Jim Lucas, but Jerito was not. The minute I saw that I felt better. When they first showed I had stepped back into the shed out of sight. There were a dozen of them in the bunch and they drew up. Bayless took the play before Lucas could get his mouth open .
"Henry!" He said it hard and short. "You been warned. Get your stuff. We're burning you out!" .
Tap waited while you could count three before he spoke. "Like hell," he said .
"We want no nesters around here! Once one starts they all come! And we want nobody with your record!" .
"My record?" Tap had guts, I'll give him that. He stepped once toward Bayless .
"Who says I--ffwas .
"I do!" It was Red Corram. "You rode with that Roost outfit in the Panhandle." .
"Sure did." Tap smiled. "I reckon not a man here but ain't misbranded a few head. I ain't doing it now." .
"That's no matter!" Bayless was hard. "Get out or be buried here!" .
Lucas cleared his throat and started to speak .
Tap looked at him. "You feel that way, .
Lucas?" .
"I'm not for killing," he said, "but--!" .
"I am!" Bayless was tough about it. "I say . t hey get out or shoot it out!" .
Tap Henry had taken one quick glance toward the . s hed when they rode up, and when he saw me gone . h e never looked again. I knew he figured he . w as all alone. Well, he wasn't. Not by a . l ong shot. Now it was my turn. .
Stepping out into the open, I said, "That go for me, too, Chet?" .
He turned sharp around at the voice and stared at me. My hat was pulled low and the only gun I wore was that .44 Russian in my waistband. I took another step out and a little bit toward the trail, which put Bayless in a bad spot. If he turned to face me his side was to Tap. "Who are you?" Bayless demanded. He was a big blue-jowled man, but right now the face under those whiskers looked pale .
"The name is Tyler, Chet. Ryan Tyler. Don't reckon you ever heard that name before, did you now?" Without turning my head, I said to Tap, but loud enough so they could all hear me. "Tap, if they