Longarm hadn’t understood Petrovsky’s words any better than Hawkins had, but he gathered from the tone used that Petrovsky was asking Mordka to give him a reason for halting the Bratiya. He called, “Fedor! Those cowboys up ahead have got rifles on your men. Stop ’em where they are! If you don’t, a lot of folks are going to get hurt!”

  “Ve vill hurt them vorse as they hurt us!” Petrovsky threatened.

  “No need for anybody to get hurt!” Longarm replied. “Stop where you are a minute, Fedor! Mordka’s coming to talk to you!”

  Grover swept his arm around, and shoved Longarm to one side. “Keep your damn big mouth outa this! I got a bellyful of you butting into my business!”

  “Just be sure that bellyful don’t give you a case of gripe-gut,” Longarm told the sheriff. His voice was dangerously quiet. He pointed to the Bratiya. They had stopped and were looking expectantly at Danilov.

  Hawkins told Grover, “Settle your fuss with Long later. Get on out there and do the job we’re paying you for!”

  The marshal flicked a cold blue glance at Hawkins, but said nothing.

  Mordka tapped Grover’s shoulder. “Come, Sheriff. Let us go and speak with them.”

  Danilov and Grover crossed the trail and stopped in front of Fedor Petrovsky. A number of the Bratiya clustered around them at once; the others kept their eyes fixed on the ranch hands, who had not advanced their horses from their position on the south side of the burning debris. Longarm and the ranchers were between the two groups, too far from both of them to hear what was being said by either.

  They could catch an occasional word from the men around Mordka and Grover. One word in particular was repeated: “Boey! Boey!”

  Hawkins turned to Longarm. “You’ve been around the nesters more than I have, Long. What’s that word mean?”

  Longarm shook his head. “I wouldn’t know. I ain’t been around ’em all that much, no matter what you think.”

  If the ranch hands were talking, it was in whispers, for only an occasional nicker from one of the horses came from that direction.

  Those members of the Bratiya near the riders were silent too, watching their fellows for some sign of action. The flames of the fire were almost completely gone; only a tiny, pale tongue shot up here and there from a board that still had not been consumed. The glowing heap of dying coals gave little light to supplement that provided by the lanterns of the Brethren. The snow had tapered off; only an occasional stray flake floated down. The wind had changed direction, and was blowing from the east, bringing warmth. Underfoot, an ankle-deep white blanket crunched when anyone took a step.

  To those who waited, it seemed that the discussion among Mordka, the sheriff, and the Brethren lasted a long while. At last the men who were crowded around them stepped away. As they backed off, the faces of Mordka and Grover were pink blurs silhouetted against the yellow of the lantern light, but there was no need to see their expressions. Dejection was in the slumping of their shoulders, their slow, deliberate walk. Behind them, the Brethren were re-forming their ranks.

  “Well?” Hawkins asked when Grover and Danilov reached the group. “What’d they say?”

  “You could hear them,” Mordka answered. “Though you may not have understood. Their cry was ‘boey’. It means ‘fight’.”

  Grover said, “That’s the stubbornest bunch of bastards I’ve ever run into! They don’t seem to know more’n only two words, boey and nyet. I heard them words so many times I don’t guess I’ll ever forget ’em.”

  “What’re they saying no about?” Hawkins asked.

  “They say they ain’t going to let another steer pass along this trail till they’ve been paid for their church and that woman whose baby got killed is made some kind of payment too.”

  “That won’t hurt us,” Tatum said. “Our herds are already in the shipping pens at Junction.”

  “They don’t just mean now,” Grover explained. “They mean from now on. Next year, the year after that, till hell freezes over, from the way they talked.”

  “Hell, they can’t close this trail!” Hawkins sputtered. “It’s public, which means us! We’ve been using it as long as there’ve been ranches here. It’s not their land, anyhow. It’s Santa Fe land.”

  “You think I didn’t tell ’em that?” Grover asked. “They said to bring on the Santa Fe, they’ll fight them and us both.”

  “Wait a minute, Clem,” Tatum broke in. “Don’t they know we can just drive our herds around east of their homesteads and get to the railhead that way?”

  Grover answered before Hawkins could speak. “They know that. But they figure it’ll cost you money to do it.”

  Hawkins nodded. “It will, too.” He looked at Tatum. “Figure it out, Bill. We’d add better than twenty miles to our drives, twice a year, spring and fall. That’s two or three more days’ wages for the extra hands we always hire. Comes to a week a year for every extra man. And covering that much more distance will take a lot of weight off our steers. We’ll get less for them at the shipping pens.”

  “I hadn’t looked at it that way,” Tatum said. “But you’re sure right.” He asked Grover, “What’s the law say about blocking up a public trail like this one?”

  “How the hell should I know? I’m not a lawyer.”

  “Not much of a sheriff, either, for my money.” Tatum sounded disgusted. “You could’ve stopped these nesters from acting up, kept ’em in their place, if you’d been on the job.”

  “You got no right to say that!” Grover pointed at Mordka. “He couldn’t do nothing with ’em, and he’s supposed to be their boss.”

  Mordka spoke up. “I cannot command the Bratiya to do what I wish; that is not our way. I have told you this before. But it is true, we do not trust Sheriff Grover, any more than we trust you or Mr. Hawkins. And there is still something the sheriff has not told you yet. The fence-cutting must stop, too.”

  “How come you didn’t mention that?” Hawkins asked the sheriff. “Remember what we talked about when it first started? I—”

  “I guess I just forgot, Clem,” Grover interrupted hurriedly.

  Mordka broke the angry silence that followed the exchange between Hawkins and Grover. “I have only one suggestion. If you will pay to rebuild our church, and agree that there will be no more cutting of our fences, I will see that we ourselves satisfy Aleksandra Toletof’s need for help.”

  “Damned if I’ll put up a penny to pay for a nester’s foreign church!” Hawkins spat out. He asked Tatum, “Bill, how do you feel about it?”

  “Same way you do. If we start paying out like that, why, every time one of these nesters has a broke-down fence, or a stray steer gets into his wheatfield, he’ll be at our doors with his hand out. That stampede was a pure accident. We didn’t make it happen any more than they did.”

  “They were still your cattle, and your men were not attending to their jobs properly,” Danilov said.

  “It’s blackmail, and I won’t pay it!” Hawkins shot back. “We’ll fight first! Hetter, go tell the boys to get ready. Looks like there’s going to be trouble after all.”

  “If there is, it will be of your own making,” Mordka said soberly.

  Longarm had held himself back during the argument. He knew that even his presence there irritated the ranchers and Grover, and he had hoped that if he stood aside, they would be able to settle their differences with the Brethren. Now he gave up hope.

  “I think you better do what those people want,” he told Hawkins. “It’ll be a sight cheaper than fighting. If you begin feuding now, it could drag on for years.”

  His remark provided an instant trigger for Grover’s angry frustration. Secure in the awareness that he was holding Longarm’s Colt, the sheriff let go a backhand blow that caught Longarm across the cheek.

  “Stay out of this, Long!” Grover snapped. “You’ve always took up for them son-of-a-bitch nesters! If I hadn’t took away your gun, you’d have forced us to settle this their way before now.”

  Exercising all his self-control, Longarm didn’t strike back. The blow gave him the opportunity he’d been needing. He staggered with the slap and purposely lurched into Hawkins. The rancher put out his hands instinctively to catch him. Longarm slid his hand along his watch chain, and when he straightened up, the derringer on the end of the chain was pressed against Hawkins’s ear.

  “All right, Hawkins. You like to call the shots around here. I’m going to let you go on calling ’em, but from here on, you’ll call ’em my way,” Longarm said. “Start out by telling your friends to give us a lot of room.”

  “You heard him!” Hawkins gasped. “Back away, Bill, you and Grover. And for God’s sake, don’t go for your guns, either one of you! This damn popgun Long’s got on me don’t look like much, but it’ll sure play hell with a man’s skull at close range!”

  “And don’t forget, I’ve got more than one shot,” Longarm warned the others. “The first one might be for Hawkins, but if either one of you starts to throw down, I’ll take you first and save him for later!”

  “You won’t get away with anything, Long,” Tatum said. “Clem’s man’s already started our hands to moving.”

  Glancing down the trail, Longarm saw that the rancher was telling the truth. The hands from the C Bar H and the Double Z were beginning to walk their horses forward.

  “Maybe you forgot I’d already sent Hetter to get my boys ready,” Hawkins gloated. “I guess that spoils your little play, Marshal.”

  “Let’s eat the apple a bite at a time,” Longarm told his prisoner. “Get on out there with me. We’re going to go stand right in the middle of that trail, in front of them farmers.”

  “Wait a minute! That’s going to put us in the line of fire when my hands open up!” Hawkins gasped.

  “It sure as hell is,” Longarm replied. He pressed the muzzle of the derringer harder into Hawkins’s ear. “But I don’t see that you’ve got much choice. When a man’s going to get shot, it purely don’t matter who pulls the trigger. Now march!”

  As he walked out into the trail, into the light of the lanterns carried by the Bratiya, Hawkins called back to Tatum, “Tell your men to hold their fire, Bill! And tell mine I said to hold back, too!”

  Tatum’s warning call stopped the ranch hands’ advance; they reined in. Opposite them, the coals still glowed redly and cast a lurid half-light across the trail. They didn’t lower their rifles.

  Hawkins tried to look over his shoulder to see what response the Bratiya were making to the advances of the cowhands, but the cold muzzle of the derringer at his temple kept him immobile. His voice a hoarse rasp, he asked Longarm, “The men behind us won’t shoot, will they? If they do, my boys will sure as hell shoot back, and you and me’ll be ripped wide open.”

  Longarm glanced over his shoulder, and saw the Brethren lined up in two rows. Those in the front row were kneeling so the men behind could fire over their heads.

  “Fedor!” Longarm called.

  “Da, Marshal.” Petrovsky’s voice responded behind him, “I see vhat you are doing. Don’t vorry, vhen ve shoot, ve vill aim above your heads. Hawkins is make as good breastvork as line of stones!”

  “Oh, my God!” Hawkins gasped. “Marshal, you’ve got to do something, or we’ll both get killed!”

  “You were ready enough to have your men start killing, a few minutes ago,” Longarm replied coldly. “Makes a difference when you’re in the line of fire, doesn’t it?”

  “Tell me what you want me to do, Long! I won’t try anything, I swear! I’ll do exactly what you say!”

  “Tell your men to toss their rifles on the ground,” Longarm ordered. “I’ll see if I can’t get the Brethren to do the same thing. Maybe if they see your crew’s not going to turn loose on ’em, they’ll be reasonable.”

  “Hetter!” Hawkins shouted. “You and the other boys toss your guns down! Do it right now and the nesters won’t open up on you!”

  Hetter’s voice came back, “How do we know that, boss? That’d open us up to getting killed if them nesters decide to take advantage of us!”

  “Do it, damn you!” Hawkins replied. “Or I’m likely to be a dead man!”

  “Long’s trying to trick you,” Grover called from the side of the trail where he stood with Tatum. “Don’t listen to him, Clem! He’s in with the nesters! I’ve said so all along!” Raising his voice, he called, “Hetter! This is Sheriff Grover talking. I’m swearing you and all the rest of you boys in as my posse. Now, you got the law on your side, and you’re under my orders. And my orders are to keep your guns and stand pat!”

  From behind Longarm and Hawkins, Fedor Petrovsky called, “Ve are hear vhat says the sheriff, Marshal. Ve must defend ourselves! If one shot from the cowboys comes, ve shoot back!”

  In Longarm’s ear, Hawkins said harshly, “Well, Long? You’ve sure outsmarted yourself this tune! Only comfort I’ve got is that we’ll both die together!”

  Chapter 20

  Longarm did not bother to answer Hawkins. He was trying to think of a way to break the deadlock. He knew that within minutes, perhaps seconds, the tension that had gripped the Brethren and the ranch hands alike must snap. Somebody would pull a trigger.

  He got the answer to his puzzle from a totally unexpected source. From the corner of the churchyard, into the shrinking circle of light cast by the orange-red glow of the fire’s dying coals, the people of the Brethren who had been watching the confrontation suddenly became participants.

  Led by Mordka Danilov, they walked in double file across the trail a few yards in front of the mounted cowhands. Even in the diminished light, it was plain to see that most of them were women and children. Longarm guessed that the men in the group were those who had kept to the creed of nonviolence that had been a founding principle of the sect.

  The sight of the slow, steady parade set off a buzz of voices from Fedor Petrovsky’s men. The chatter was cut short when Mordka began to speak.

  “Bratiya!” he called. “Listen to me! The Marshal has made sure that the men of the ranches cannot shoot at you without the risk of killing their leader! Now I have made sure that you cannot shoot the ranch men without risking harm to your own wives and children!”

  “By God!” Longarm muttered under his breath, “I don’t guess Mordka’s ever heard of one, but he’s sure set up a Mexican standoff!”

  “Damned if he hasn’t,” Hawkins agreed. For the first time that night, the rancher’s voice sounded cheerful.

  “Does it satisfy you, Hawkins? Because you’re the man those hands of yours and Tatum’s will listen to. If you tell ’em to drop their rifles again, I’m betting they’ll do it this time.”

  Tatum and Grover came running from the side of the trail to join Longarm and Hawkins. Before they got within reaching distance, Longarm called to them, “Stop right there! This ain’t settled quite yet, and I’ve still got this little gun of mine pushed into Hawkins’s ear. You get too close and I might get nervous.”

  His threat stopped the two men in their tracks. Grover said, “It’s some kind of damn nester trick, Clem! Don’t fall for it!”

  “Shut up, Grover!” Tatum commanded. “Clem can handle this without any advice from you.”

  “Damn right, I can!” Hawkins said. “Bill, whether you agree or not, I’m going to finish up this mess right now, and tell our boys to toss their guns on the ground. I’m gambling that Danilov or Long or both of ’em will tell the nesters behind us to do the same thing.”

  “You can depend on me,” Longarm said. “And I’d guess Mordka will go along, seeing as how setting those folks down there where they are was his idea.”

  “That’s good enough for me,” Tatum agreed. “You won’t have any trouble from my men, I’ll guarantee that, Clem.”

  Hawkins raised his voice. “Hetter! Tell the boys to toss their guns down to the ground! There’s not going to be any shooting, anybody can see that!”

  “You Double Z hands do the same thing!” Tatum shouted.

  “Mordka!” Longarm called out. “Soon as the ranch hands have got rid of their guns, I’m going to see if Fedor won’t tell his men to put theirs down too!”

  “And I will join you in urging him,” Danilov replied. “Do you hear me, Fedor?”

  “Da.” Petrovsky’s voice came from the ranks of the Bratiya. “Ve vill lay our veapons aside. Ve do not vant a fight, but ve vere ready to have one if ve could get justice no other vay.”

  Hetter’s voice came to them within a few moments. “All right, boss. We’ve done like you said. But yell if them nesters act up. It won’t take but a minute for us to get our guns back!”

  Muffled thuds began sounding from the area where the Brethren stood, as rifles, shotguns and other weapons hit the snow-covered ground.

  Fedor Petrovsky called, “Ve have thrown down our guns, too! Now let us meet together and settle our differences peacefully.”

  “I guess I’ve come around to feeling like he does,” Hawkins said to Longarm. “Or I will, as soon as you take that derringer away from my head.”

  “There’s one little thing left to take care of before I can do that,” Longarm replied.

  “Oh? What’s that?”

  “Tell your man Grover to hand me back my Colt. It was you who had him take it off me, so I figure it’s up to you to tell him to give it back. He seems to do just about what you order him to, like any other hired hand would.”

  Without hesitating, Hawkins told Grover, “You heard the marshal. Give him back his pistol.”

  “By rights, I oughta be putting a pair of handcuffs on him,” Grover said. “If he was anybody but a federal marshal, he’d’ve been in jail already.”

  “Sorry you feel that way,” Longarm said. He held out his hand. “But I guess you’re smart enough to do what your boss tells you.”