and shoved the door aside. “Bo!”
Bo didn’t pay any attention. He hammered his fists into Peeler’s body. Even though the rancher was bigger and younger, Bo’s actions had taken him by surprise, and Bo clearly had the upper hand in the fight.
Scratch bent down, hooked his hands under his friend’s arms, and hauled Bo off Peeler, lifting him and dragging him back toward the door. At that moment, the group of cowboys pounded into the house.
Joe Archibald was one of them, and when he saw his boss lying on the floor, bloody and battered, and Scratch holding Bo back, he jumped to the correct conclusion. The segundo yanked his gun from its holster and leaped toward Bo, yelling, “You son of a bitch! I’ll beat you within an inch of your life!”
Scratch twisted around, still holding Bo with his left arm. His right hand flashed toward his hip, and the ivory-handled Remington on that side seemed to leap out of its holster as if by magic and appear in Scratch’s hand. Archibald came to a sudden, startled stop as he found himself staring down the long barrel of the .44.
“Nobody’s beatin’ anybody,” Scratch said in a flinty voice. “This has gone on long enough.”
Archibald lowered his gun and used his other hand to point past Bo and Scratch at Peeler, who lay there groggy from the punches Bo had landed. “Your pard jumped the boss! You reckon we’re gonna let him get away with that?”
“Big John…had it coming,” Bo panted. “He knew he told us to put that fence…in the wrong place. He was just…trying to get the best of Ridley.”
“I don’t care what he did. He’s the boss. We do what he says.” Archibald made a curt gesture to his companions. “Some of you help Mr. Peeler up, damn it.”
Three of the men went around Bo and Scratch, all of them warily eyeing the gun in the hand of the silver-haired Texan. They took hold of Big John and lifted his considerable bulk to his feet, then stood there bracing him as he shook his big, square head like an old bull.
“I told you earlier that if you don’t like the job, you can draw your time and ride on,” Archibald continued. “Well, you’re not even gonna do that. You don’t get any wages for attacking the boss. Just gather your gear and get off this spread…now.”
“You can’t do that,” Scratch argued. “Lord knows Peeler wasn’t payin’ us much. Slave wages is more like it. But what we earned, we got comin’.”
“You’re lucky you don’t get a rope and a necktie party! Or I can send somebody into Socorro to fetch the sheriff, and you can spend the next six months locked up in jail for attackin’ one of the county’s leading citizens. Would you like that better, Morton?”
Bo said, “Let go of me, Scratch.”
“You ain’t gonna go loco again if I do?”
“No, I reckon that’s over and done with.”
Scratch released his grip on Bo, who looked around and then bent over to pick up his hat, which had fallen off when he tackled Peeler. He brushed off the hat and straightened a dent in it, then put it on and said, “We’ll go.”
“Wait a minute,” Scratch objected. “Peeler owes us money.”
“I don’t want his money. I just want to be away from here.”
Archibald sneered. “We want you away from here, too, Creel. You’ve got the place stinkin’ of old man.”
Scratch gave the segundo a hard look. “This old man got the drop on you, mister, when you already had your gun out.”
Archibald didn’t like being reminded of that. He glared at Scratch.
“Step aside,” Scratch said.
“Don’t push it,” Archibald warned.
“You wanted us gone, we’re leavin’. Come on, Bo.”
Archibald motioned for the other men to step aside. The Texans moved past them through the ruined doorway, crossed the porch, and went down the steps.
Quietly, Bo said, “Sorry I lost this job for us, partner. I just couldn’t keep the rein tight enough on my temper.”
“Shoot, don’t worry about it, Bo. Peeler’s a jackass, and Archibald ain’t any better. They don’t appreciate us here. We’ll be better off somewheres else.”
“Yeah, but at least here we could eat.”
“Well, that could be a problem, seein’ as we’re broke. But we’ll think of something.”
When they trudged into the barn to get their horses, the skinny old hostler called Jonas met them. “What was all the commotion over to the big house?” he asked. “I heard a lot of yellin’.”
Scratch grinned and jerked a thumb at his old friend. “Bo here got in a tussle with Big John.”
Jonas’s eyes widened. “You tangled with the boss? Good Lord, Bo, even if he wasn’t the boss, I’ve seen Big John bust fellas plumb in half with his bare hands. He could’a killed you!”
“Yeah, well, Bo was gettin’ the best of the fight when I pulled him off,” Scratch said.
“What’d Big John do?”
“Nothin’. He was still too groggy from Bo handin’ him his needin’s. But Archibald threw us off the place. Said we weren’t even gonna get the wages we got comin’.”
Jonas shook his head. “Now ain’t that a damned shame. Don’t tell him I said it, but Joe Archibald is a plumb mean-spirited hombre. He’s all the time sayin’ things about me being old and broke-down and worthless, and he don’t ever seem to notice that I work like a sumbitch takin’ care of all the saddle stock around here.”
Bo put a hand on the hostler’s shoulder. “You do a good job, Jonas. I’ve noticed how you care for our horses, and I appreciate it.”
“So do I,” Scratch added. “Guess you better bring ’em out now, come to think of it. Bo and me got our marchin’ orders.”
It didn’t take long to get Bo’s rangy lineback dun and Scratch’s big bay saddled and ready to ride. “Where will you go?” asked Jonas.
“Socorro’s not far,” Bo said. “I guess we’ll ride in there and start looking for work again.”
He didn’t mention how they had had trouble finding work in Socorro before. That was how they’d wound up on the Circle JP. But maybe the situation had improved since then and something better would turn up.
“You got any money at all?”
Scratch shrugged. “Not to speak of. Big John hadn’t gotten around to payin’ us.”
Jonas hesitated. “Listen here. I don’t like to see any man tryin’ to make his way in the world when he’s flat-broke busted.” He delved in a pocket of his overalls and brought out a coin. “Here, take this. It’s only five dollars, but it’ll buy you some grub and a place to sleep, maybe.”
