Episode 87 A good sound profit

by KayDee35

TV episode with added scenes to make it a good read. Script consulted as well.

A good sound profit

XXX

Dedicated to Henry Darrow and Cameron Mitchell,

the two wonderful actors

who made Manolito Montoya and Buck Cannon

come to life.

XXX

"Twenty dollars for a gun. I'll buy all you have. Two times what you get for ammunition. For dynamite the same. For a horse, you get no more than thirty dollars. I will give you sixty, seventy-five with the saddle."

It was noon in Tucson, but no one thought about food. The men stood in the market place and listened to the announcer. Big John emerged from Mr. Gist's grocery store and took up position at the edge of the square. Even Carlisle the banker came from his office to see who was so eager to get rid of his money. The announcer looked very elegant. He wore a dark blue pinstripe suit, a white shirt, a bow tie, a bowler hat and a pocket watch on a gold chain. His face sported a neatly-trimmed goatee. Nevertheless, the citizens of Tucson looked grim.

"We know what you gonna do with them horses," a man shouted angrily.

"That's got nothing to do with it." The announcer waved his hand dismissively.

"It has everything to do with it," another man thundered. "We know what you gonna do with them horses and anything else you get your hands on. I would not sell you a dead burro."

"Right," the rest of the audience agreed with him, nodding unanimously.

"I address myself only to the practical men," the announcer tried again. "You can't sell a horse for more than thirty dollars. I will give you sixty. Seventy-five with the saddle."

"Eighty-five, ninety-five, even a hundred and five," a Mexican spoke up adamantly. "We do not sell to men who scheme to overthrow the rightful government of Mexico."

"Right," people echoed from all sides. "Get him out of here! You was beat fair and square - as you shoulda been!"

"Viva Benito Juarez," the Mexican added. He was living in Tucson because the pay was better here. But he was a patriot at heart and would never stop fighting for his home country.

"Twenty dollars for one rifle; two times for what you would pay for one box of ammunition. Blankets the same, dynamite the same. I will buy all you have two times," the announcer repeated doggedly.

Mr. Gist walked from his shop down to the marketplace. "I sell rifles, I sell ammunition, I sell blankets, I sell dynamite." He looked around, nodding emphatically. "And I just turned him down two times."

The men laughed.

The banker Carlisle stepped a little closer to the podium on which the announcer stood. "Colonel Ruiz, we're just not interested. Nobody here believes in the mistaken idea that you and your officers have that you can turn back the clocks to the time of Maximilian and all he stood for. You're not gonna succeed here because we don't have anyone hungry enough or ornery enough to help you destroy the country of Mexico."

The announcer closed his eyes. He nodded in resignation when he heard the murmur of approval.

"Fifty horses," a voice suddenly came from the edge of the square. The citizens of Tucson turned around in surprise. The murmurs died.

"Fifty horses tomorrow, and I can get you fifty more in another day or two," Big John repeated firmly.

The announcer's eyes lit up as he looked over to his new business partner. "And the supplies? Blankets, saddles?" he asked quickly.

Big John shrugged. "With cash, whatever I've got and whatever I can get," he said laconically. "Whatever you want."

Ruiz nodded eagerly.

"My name is John Cannon. High Chaparral," the rancher introduced himself. Colonel Ruiz tipped his hat. Big John nodded again, turned around and left. The citizens of Tucson watched him go, mouths agape.

Leaning on the swinging doors of the saloon, Buck, too, looked after his brother speechlessly. He had just uncorked a bottle of whisky when he had heard the announcer and had watched from the doorway. Buck's eyes narrowed. What a mess his brother had got himself into. When Mano learned of this, he would hit the roof for sure. Buck decided to stay in Tucson for another day and leave it to John to explain his behaviour to their brother-in-law. By tomorrow Mano just might have calmed down.

XXX

In the afternoon Sam and his crew were driving fifty horses to the corral. Sam Butler stood at the gate and counted them as they went in. Joe hustled the horses along in a time-tested manner: by flipping small dirt clods at their rears. He was too efficient, and the resulting bunch-up caused one or two to scrape the sides of the gate.

"You watch what you're doing. You bruise one of those rumps, and John Cannon will bruise your own," Sam warned his brother. With a broad sweep of his hand, punctuated by a wink and a slight smile, he motioned for him to close the gate. Joe returned the smile and did as asked.

Manolito came to them. He had been working in the morning and was free for the evening. Leaning on the corral fence beside the foreman, he watched the horses with open admiration. "Beautiful. Beautiful. Hombre, they are more than beautiful. They are magnificent."

Joe nodded wordlessly. He clasped Mano on the shoulder, then went to unsaddle his horse. Manolito laughed.

"Nice, huh?" the foreman spoke up. He now finally had the time to get a good look at the animals.

"Yeah, Sam," Mano nodded. "You must have held a contest in the whole countryside to find animals like these."

Grinning, Sam shook his head. "Not a contest, Mano. Just a lot of looking and dealing."

"Ain't they right out of a picture book?" Admiration colouring his voice, Joe came back to them, carrying the saddle over his shoulder.

Putting a hand on his heart, Manolito turned to him. "Muchachos, may the women in our lives be as beautiful," he laughed. Then he looked back to Sam. "Who has need for so many? John does not need this many."

The foreman looked back and silently shrugged his shoulders.

"Ach, this is getting heavy," Joe remarked, shifting uncomfortably and headed towards the stable.

Big John came from the house. "Sam, any difficulty?" he asked.

The foreman shook his head. "No, boss. No trouble. But it took us every cent. Sixty dollars a head."

"What about saddles?" John asked.

Sam jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "The boys are bringing them in the buckboard now. We got forty of them."

The rancher nodded. "Good."

Manolito turned to his brother-in-law. "Hey, John, who is buying so much? The army?" he asked with a smile.

Big John shook his head. "No, no. The army gets along just fine buying for themselves."

"Well, then who?" Mano insisted.

The rancher glanced at his foreman. Sam looked back impassively, making it clear that giving explanations was the job of the boss. "The horses and all this are for that group on the southeast range at the old Beeker shack," John finally mumbled.

"I'll tend to my horse." Sam said abruptly. He nodded in the direction of the corral and walked resolutely across the compound.

Big John followed him on the heels. "Oh, Sam, hold up a minute." The foreman stopped and gave his boss a questioning look.

"I have an idea where we can scout up fifty more head," the rancher began.

Manolito had overcome his initial shock and followed his brother-in-law. "John? Do you know who these men are? They are Maximilianistas." He gazed at the rancher and the foreman. Neither of them showed any reaction. "I am surprised no one told you about this."

"I know who they are," the rancher answered calmly.

Manolito shot him an astonished look. "You do?"

"I do," John replied with a curt nod.

Mano's eyes narrowed. "And you still-" He took a deep breath. "Well, I will see you inside about this. They are beautiful, Sam," he added as he walked away.

"Yeah. Yeah," the foreman stammered, but Mano had already vanished into the house.

Big John cleared his throat. "Sam, tomorrow you head up to Snake Ravine. I want you to buy forty or fifty more head as good as these."

"Right." The foreman nodded curtly and walked towards the bunkhouse. John paced the courtyard a few more minutes before he nerved himself and went into the house.

Victoria was laying the table for dinner. She dallied, taking the napkins, the silverware, the bread and the hot dishes to the table separately to be able to overhear what was going on. A few minutes ago she had seen her brother rush in with a thunderous expression on his face. Mano had stormed to the upper floor looking for Buck. Seeing that his best friend was not home, Manolito had come back down immediately. Calling out on frustration, he had leaned on the chair next to the round table by the fireplace. He had sat down at last but immediately jumped up again when he saw Big John come in. Going to the round table, the rancher gave his brother-in-law a sideways glance and took off his hat.

"Oh, John. I was wondering if we could have a little talk?" Mano began.

Big John nodded. "You know, some days I do feel I'm aging, and I guess I do deserve the respect that comes with that process." He took the papers that were lying on the table and went to the couch. "But I have never known you to leap to your feet whenever I walk into a room." He winked at Mano in amusement.

Manolito came to stand in front of his brother-in-law. "These people, John. The ones who buy the horses," he said firmly. "I can understand that someone who is not from Mexico would not- well, not fully understand what they are doing."

Big John's expression darkened. "Mano, at the risk of interrupting what might become a brilliant political lecture, I run the High Chaparral as I see fit." He pushed the papers around on the table as a hint as to who was boss around here.

Manolito raised his hands. "All right."

"And besides, I know who these people are," John continued with a shrug. "Juarez defeated them, they want another crack at it. It's perfectly logical. They want to go back there and whip up some support with a few fast surprise victories. "

Manolito nodded. "That is right, John. Now, listen." He leaned back against the couch and raised his index finger. "They take over a state. And then another state. And then maybe all of Mexico. You see, it could be possible. Therefore, I must ask you. How can you help people like this? Benito Juarez is good."

The rancher shook his head and unwillingly turned his head aside.

"There is no doubt whatsoever that he is good for Mexico. Absolutely, John," Manolito said imploringly to his brother-in-law.

John turned to Mano, a sort of triumphant look in his eyes. "Wait a minute. Absolutely, huh?"

"Yes," Manolito nodded.

"That is a word that everyone with a political axe to grind uses sooner or later," Big John countered.

"Huh?" Manolito stared at his brother-in-law with a frown. What was that supposed to mean?

"I'm gonna tell you something that a few grey hairs on your chest will teach you. There are no political absolutes. No black, no white, only shades in between," the rancher continued, pointing in Mano's direction. "Now, these issues are Mexican. I live in the United States. I sell in the United States. I sell to buyers with money." In the background, he noticed his wife who had just come from the kitchen with the coffee pot.

Manolito grimaced. Big John sounded like his father. "Is there not more than just money, John?"

His brother-in-law nodded. "Of course there is. If this were my battle, I'd feel exactly the way you do. But it isn't my battle. This is a Mexican matter. Don't you see that? Now, if I elected not to sell to these men, that in itself would be choosing sides." Manolito, listening intently, nodded. He noticed Victoria as well. She had come to the fireplace and looked on in disbelief.

"And it is not my place to choose sides in a foreign political argument," Big John stated.

Manolito whistled through his teeth, leaned on the couch and stared thoughtfully at the ground. "Sí, that is an interesting point of view, I suppose." He raised his head and looked at his brother-in-law. "Yes, I suppose that is an interesting way to look at it," he repeated a bit louder.

The rancher stretched. He wished Mano would shut up.

"Excuse me," Victoria interrupted the discussion. The men turned to her. Victoria took a step forward. "Shall I be escorted to dinner by my husband or by my brother?"

Manolito went to his sister. Taking her hands, he looked at her apologetically. "Victoria, would you mind very much if I did not join you? I have something- I do not know-" He glanced at his brother-in-law. "My head."

"No, Manolo. It's all right," Victoria nodded quietly.

Mano bowed slightly to Big John. "Excuse me," he said formally, took his hat and went to the side door. He stopped there for a moment and looked back. The rancher made no move to hold him back. He just looked at him expectantly. Mano left, softly closing the door behind him.

As soon as her brother was gone, Victoria turned to her husband. "I could not help overhearing," she informed Big John.

The rancher came to her. "Well, there's nothing to worry about," he said lightly, burying his hands in his pockets.

"Nothing to worry about?" Victoria repeated, flabbergasted.

Big John shrugged. "No."

"You're selling horses to Maximilianistas," his wife stated.

John nodded. "I am."

"John."

Big John shook his head in annoyance. He began to pace the room, his back to his wife. "I just went through this whole thing with Manolito. Victoria, I am not interested in Mexican politics. These people want to buy things, I want to sell them." He shrugged. "It's as simple as that."

His wife shook her head in disbelief, went to him and looked him searchingly in the eyes. "You cannot mean that. I know you can't mean it."

The rancher leaned on the dresser with a sigh and gazed out of the window, rolling his eyes. "What else do I have to do around here? Draw pictures? Write in Spanish? Victoria, I'm selling to these people because they have an impressive supply of good, genuine American dollars. Now, Manoilto is from Sonora in Mexico, so naturally he wouldn't sell to them." He finally looked at his wife, striving for a neutral expression. "You're from Sonora in Mexico. Of course, you wouldn't sell to them. I was born in West Virginia. Now, let's have our dinner. Yours, mine and Mano's." He took her unceremoniously by the arm and led her to the table. Victoria was so shocked about her husband's behaviour that she went along without resistance.

XXX

Manolito rode to Tucson to look for Buck. He wanted to talk with his friend about what John did. But Buck had ridden out of town. Mano felt too tired and frustrated to continue his search and decided to stay in town for the night. The next morning he rode back to the ranch. Buck, on the other hand, had spent the night on the C-Bar-M ranch because he knew that Mano would not yet think of looking for him there. The next day, after he had eaten lunch in Tucson, Buck, too, rode back to the High Chaparral. He doubted that things had quietened down, but he could not stay away from the ranch any longer.

While Buck rode back down from the Cannon-Montoya ranch to Tucson, Manolito intercepted the ranch hands who were on their way to buy more horses. Sam, Joe, Wind and two others reined their mounts in when they saw Mano riding up to them.

"Where're you headed?" Mano asked.

"Snake Ravine," Joe answered. "Just a little further. See if there's more good horses there."

"Well, John changed his mind about Snake Ravine," Mano let the cat out of the bag.

"So?" Sam asked.

Manolito nodded. "Uh-huh. There is a little place I know. We can get the horses from there."

Sam began to grin. "Well, lead the way."

Mano wheeled his horse around. "Vamonos," he exclaimed, a broad smile on his face. The men followed him with much more enthusiasm than they had previously shown.

XXX

Shortly before dinner Buck entered Big John's study and sat down in front of the desk. "John, there's peole in town who won't say hello no more."

The rancher looked up from his ledger books. "So?" Normally he would have rounded on his brother for taking two days off when he had been granted only one. But this time Big John felt so relieved that he did not have to deal with Buck sooner that he generously overlooked his brother's too late return.

Buck put a piece of iron on the desk. "Just look at that. Somebody cut off my stirrup while I was in the cantina in town. Now, who would do a crazy thing like that?"

Big John reached for the stirrup and turned it around in his hand. "I don't know," he said with a shrug.

"Carlisle came over from the bank while I was busy getting my stirrup cut off. He said you're making a big mistake selling to the Maximilians," Buck continued.

"Oh, he did?" The rancher looked at his brother sullenly, then concentrated on his ledger books again. So Buck knew of his dealings, Big John pondered. Well, that saved him some explanations.

"He also said that that new loan you want, he may not be able to approve it," Buck came to the point.

Big John's head jerked up. "What?"

His brother shrugged. "Well, John, it's all because you're selling to them people. How come you're selling to them, anyway?"

"Buck, please, will you be the one person in my life right now who doesn't attempt to turn me into a political crusader," the rancher said energetically. His brother frowned and looked down. John covertly sighed in relief. Buck's protests he could nip in the bud. Had his brother really wanted to confront him, he would be arguing a lot louder. And he certainly would not be sitting in the chair in front of him but would be agitatedly pacing the room.

Buck looked out of the window when he heard hoofbeats and neighing. "Well, there's more," he said neutrally.

Big John stood up. He beamed. "Yeah, from Snake Ravine. Nice stock."

They left the house together. Seeing John's jaws tighten, Buck stopped a pace behind his brother. A chuckle escaped him. Snake Ravine? he thought in amusement. They shoulda left them things and brought the snakes. Nice stock, indeed. Lop-eared, sway-backed, gimpy. That last one looks way past voting age.

Manolito and the ranch hands drove the horses into the corral, closed the gate and approached the house, stopping in front of Buck and John. Mano wryly grinned at Buck, but his friend avoided his gaze. Sam was suddenly overcome by a sense of foreboding.

"This your doing, Manolito?" the rancher asked through gritted teeth.

Buck finally raised his head, giving Mano a friendly look but saying nothing. After a quick glance at Buck, Manolito looked the rancher squarely in the eyes. "Yes, John."

The rancher stalked to his foreman. "You allowed this?"

Sam shrugged. "Well, I-"

"I lied to Sam," Manolito intervened. "He thought he was following your orders."

John, a grim look on his face, stalked to his brother-in-law. "Why?"

"Because I wanted you to see the right kind of horses to sell to those people, John," Mano told him seriously.

"You turn around, you take them back where you found them," Big John barked. "You bring me the best."

"The best." Manolito frowned. "Why the best for these people? What are you thinking, John? I don't know what is happening to you. If you do this, I will no longer stay on the Chaparral," he said, his tone pleading rather than angry.

"Come on, Mano," Buck said quietly. "Let's take them back."

"No." Mano looked at him sadly and slightly shook his head. Turning back to the rancher, he waited another moment, then took a deep breath. "Good bye, John."

Mano turned on his heel and left. The rancher wordlessly watched him go. Sam, however, observed Buck. The younger Cannon brother did not move from the spot. He just lowered his head and closed his eyes. And the foreman knew that he had been right to follow Big John's orders. If Buck had been convinced that his brother did something wrong, he would have intervened. Buck was a good indicator in this regard. He would not let his best friend down without a reason. He would rather have followed Mano.

XXX

The next morning the rancher couple sat alone at the breakfast table. Victoria watched Big John eat. However, the rancher did not seem to be hungry. The dishes were almost untouched.

"More eggs, John?" Victoria asked her husband.

"Oh no no. No, thank you," the rancher replied, trying hard to ignore the edge in his wife's voice. "I've got to ride to Tucson."

Victoria looked silently down on her plate. John leaned across the table. "Victoria, don't worry about him. He'll be all right."

His wife looked up in surprise. "I'm not worried about Manolito. I'm worried about you."

Big John shook his head. "Now, I explained my position yesterday. I don't want to go through it again."

"You're my husband. What you do is important to me. And despite of what you said, you are very, very wrong," Victoria began firmly. The rancher shot his wife an angry look, put his napkin down and started to get up. But Victoria beat him to it. She walked over and sat down beside him. "No, John. Please, listen to me. I listened to you. You're an American and therefore, you're not to be involved in matters below the Mexican border." John looked at her, his face carefully neutral.

"A man stands with a gun below that border, and he shoots an innocent, a good man. The innocent below the border is none of your business, so you do nothing about it." At the rancher's thoughtful nod, Victoria continued. "Now, this time the man with the gun stands on your side of the border. He stands near you, and he shoots the innocent man on the Mexican side. You tell me if it does make it all right with you. You're willing to sell him the gun? As long as the victim is over the border, your conscience is clear?"

John kept silent for a moment. "Victoria, if I ever need an attorney, I'll know where to look," he then said off-handedly.

"Does that mean you will continue to help those people?" Victoria asked in disbelief.

"It means that I will continue to run my ranch as I see fit," her husband replied adamantly. "And I will continue to seek a profit."

Victoria glanced at her husband and waited for him to tell her that it had all been a joke. Or that he at least gave her a good reason why he was selling to the Maximilianistas. Victoria had intended to talk with her husband last night, but when she had entered their bedroom, John had already been asleep. Or had at least pretended to be. She had not been sure and had not wanted to wake him again. She had gone to bed with a sigh, pondering all night what her husband was trying to prove. Did John suddenly want to compete with Papa? Did he not understand any more that she was happy without all the wealth that her father was constantly flaunting? Or was it something else? Had John accumulated too many debts and tried to get rid of them in one fell swoop? Granted, the last year had not been a good one. The summer had been so dry that all the water holes on the High Chaparral had dried out. If it had not been for Buck and Manolito's ranch in the mountains, they would certainly have lost a lot more cattle. On the other hand, - if she could believe John - cattle prices had almost doubled because not too many animals had survived the drought. Or had John really become so keen on making a profit that he would even condone murder? After all, that was what these Maximilianistas did.

When John did not respond, Victoria looked up in disappointment, pushed her chair back and began to clear the table.

In the bunkhouse, too, a discussion was going on. The men had already left for breakfast. Only Wind kept the foreman company.

"We gonna go round up some more horses?" the boy asked sullenly.

Sam had taken his time getting up. He went in his underwear to the mirror and started shaving. "Nope," he answered Wind's question. "At least not until the boss gets back from Tucson. We're still a working cattle ranch, Wind. There's a herd up on the north ridge that has got to be moved south."

"There's tension on this ranch like I've never seen before," Wind said, looking crestfallen. He had stayed on the High Chaparral because the people here were different. Friendlier and more helpful. And they did not mind him being a half-breed, either. But at the moment the atmosphere was killing him.

Sam turned, wiping the knife on the towel he had wrapped around his neck. "That's right," the foreman admitted. "Some of the men don't agree with Mr. Cannon's actions."

"Then why do they follow his orders?" the boy asked stubbornly.

"Because they get paid to, son."

Wind shook his head angrily. "That's no reason to go against what you believe."

"Maybe. And maybe not," Sam said, thinking of Buck. He took his knife back up and continued shaving.

"Maybe it's 'cause they trust him," it sounded calmly from the entrance. Sam and Wind turned around in surprise. Buck was standing beside the first bunk bed, his hands buried in his pockets and a foot resting casually against the bed frame.

"How long've you been there?" the foreman asked with a grin.

"You ain't been here long enough to know my brother," Buck said, turning to Wind.

"I know him," the boy countered.

Buck shrugged. "So you think. But as I was about to say, boy, my brother has reasons for what he does. When you work for the Chaparral, you follow him. And you follow his decisions. If you don't or won't, then you don't belong here." He looked at the foreman. "Sam, my stirrup's been cut. I left it in the tack room."

"I'll see it's mended, Buck," Sam replied.

"Obliged." Buck threw Wind one last sharp look before he left. The doorknob slipped from his hand, and the door fell shut a bit louder than intended, but that only served to illuminate Buck's own insecurity.

Sam cleaned his knife and turned to face Wind who still looked thoughtfully after Buck. "Understand now?" he asked. Buck had, after all, left his best friend in the lurch to stand by his brother. For one simple reason: because he trusted him.

Wind looked at the foreman with an opaque expression. "Do you?" he countered.

Sam shrugged wordlessly. He did not feel like explaining.

XXX

Big John meanwhile rode to Tucson. In front of the bank he dismounted and walked to the counter. An employee took him to Carlisle's office right away.

"We've got something to discuss?" the rancher asked curtly.

"Sure. I thought that little word with Buck would be the best way to get you in here to visit me," the banker began with a satisfied grin, then shook his head. He collected the papers and went back to his desk. Sitting down, he looked seriously at the rancher. "John, I'm concerned about at what you're doing. 'Cause I think it's hurting you and the town."

"Carlisle, I've never asked the people of Tucson to like or dislike anything I've done," Big John flared.

The banker raised his hand placatingly. "I know that, John. I know that. You're a businessman. And what's good business for you is good business for me." The rancher looked sullenly at Carlisle and slowly exhaled.

The banker rested his arms on the table and leaned forward. "John," he began imploringly. "Now listen, over the long haul these Mexicans are not gonna be here no longer. Defeat or victory, they'll be gone. And we'll still be here, right here, dealing with the people in Tucson. And you know, John, there is a-" He leaned back in his chair, exuding a patronising air of that grated on the rancher's nerves. "There is also a moral aspect of this thing."

Big John glared at the banker. "Maybe I can put up with sermonising from members of my family, but I don't have to put up with it from anybody else," he exclaimed, hitting the table in a fit of frustration. "I came to see about my loans."

Carlisle nodded. "All right. It's as simple as this." He leaned over his desk again. "It's hard for me to lend you any more money to buy. It all adds up to just how much you are willing to go through to deal with these troublemakers."

The rancher frowned thoughtfully. "I'll think about it," he finally said and stood. "We'll discuss my loan another time." He turned on his heel and left. Carlisle watched him go with a sly smile.

XXX

In the afternoon John and Sam herded fifty first-class horses to the camp of the Maximilianistas. Big John dismounted. "Gracias." He handed the reins of his horse to a stable boy who wore the outdated uniform of the imperial troops, then went to the tent. John looked around: the Mexican officers moved with purpose. They had that humourless air of the "True Believer" about them that they shared with their cock-sure military brethren throughout time. Colonel Ruiz being their leader was naturally the surest and coldest of them all. And he was waiting for John at the entrance of his tent. This time he wore elegant Mexican clothes: a white ruffled shirt, a red-brown suit and a bow tie.

"Buenos días, Colonel Ruiz," the rancher greeted the man calmly.

"Señor Cannon," Ruiz nodded back. He pointed to the horses that were herded into the corral by John's ranch hands and counted by one of his own men. "Excellent. The horses you buy for us are of the highest quality. But we will be needing more guns and more ammunition, Señor Cannon."

John shrugged indifferently. "Yes, I can get you more. But I'm afraid that we have a money matter to settle here first."

"Come into my headqarters, Señor Cannon." Ruiz made an inviting gesture.

The rancher smiled and motioned for Ruiz to go first. The colonel stepped inside and held the flap open. When the rancher had entered as well, Ruiz went to the desk. Passing the portrait that hung on the tent pole to his left, he pointed to it. "The Emperor Maximilian. It reminds me of better days. And of days to come. He was a fool. He was not made for Mexico," he said, taking off his hat. John mumbled an impatient reply and crossed his arms over his chest. "He was weak when it was strength that was needed," Ruiz concluded.

"My money, Colonel," the rancher said, sounding bored. "As per our bargain, my part is outside, so where is my money?"

Ruiz took a wad of bills from a box and handed it to his business partner. "You will find it is all there."

Big John took the money and counted it. "No, not quite," he answered.

"The agreed amount is all there," the colonel insisted. Normally he would have taken ten percent off for himself, but he could not do this under the circumstances, since the High Chaparral was his only business partner.

The rancher nodded. "I need this - and some equal amount in advance to fill your order."

"Señor Cannon, we agreed," Ruiz said, sounding almost pleading.

Big John shook his head vigorously. "I'm sorry, Colonel, but it seems that cash on the barrel is the only way people will deal with me now. I'll have my pay in advance."

"That is a complicated matter." Ruiz rubbed his chin in embarrassment.

"Then uncomplicate it. - It would seem that you're not the pay master," Big John said after a pause with a sardonic grin. The colonel swallowed and remained silent. The rancher merely shrugged. "Now, so be it. If you can't pay, you better take me to the man who does supply the money."

"That is not possible, either," Ruiz countered quickly.

"That is possible, unless you can get what you need elsewhere."

The Colonel took his list and went to the tent entrance. His back to the rancher, he scrutinised his list, wondering what he could take off. However, he had written down only the bare necessities so that he found no superfluous items. He pulled himself together. "Señor Cannon," he said softly, "get me the next shipment. The guns and the ammunition, fifty more horses and much dynamite."

Big John played thoughtfully with his wad of money. "I wonder if I really should. Frankly, Colonel, I start thinking that you are a fraud."

Ruiz turned abruptly to John and looked at him with narrowed eyes. "What did you say?" he snapped.

The rancher looked back unfazed. "Well, I explained my situation about the money. Now you are hedging. Do you have the backing you claim, or not?"

The colonel gritted his teeth. "I do, but what you ask will take time."

"Time? You're the one who's in a hurry," John countered grimly. And now it was Big John who was in a hurry. Outstanding loans and the dwindling support of his crew had brought the High Chaparral at the brink of insolvency. He knew he could not hold out much longer. "Now listen, I will go out on a limb once, and only once. You will get what you want. When I show up here again, I want the money. If you don't have it, you'll get me the man who does. Is that clear?"

"Very clear," Ruiz confirmed through gritted teeth. He wished he could order his men to throw this gringo out of his tent. But he knew only too well that until he recovered his money and his status the gringo had the upper hand.

And the gringo had not finished yet. "You're playing a dangerous game, Colonel," Big John said darkly. "If you want me to play it, too, it will be a lot more dangerous than you ever dreamed, unless you go by the rules." He turned around and left. Ruiz watched the rancher go, taken aback by the unexpected confrontation. He could not imagine what a simple rancher could do against a well-equipped military unit, but he preferred not to find out the hard way.

XXX

After Manolito had left the High Chaparral, he had ridden to the ranch he had bought with Buck. He arrived at nightfall - and saw at first glance that Buck had been there the day before. Buck had made no effort to cover his tracks. The dirty dishes were still standing on the table, and the bed had not been made. Mano hung his head. That was Buck's way to tell him that he knew Mano would show up here but that Buck himself would not come back any time soon.

That night sleep was eluding Manolito. He brooded for hours why John was suddenly behaving so strangely and why Buck was standing by his brother despite everything that had transpired. Mano decided to watch the High Chaparral from afar. Maybe this way he would be able to find out what was going on. The decision made, he finally fell asleep.

The next day Manolito saw John and the ranch hands take the horses to the camp of the Maximilianistas. It surprised him that Buck was not riding with them. Either Big John concealed something from his brother, or Buck was not so convinced after all that John did the right thing. Manolito decided to talk to Buck. Perhaps his friend knew what was going on. Or maybe, if they both put their minds to it, they could piece together what was happening. However, Manolito knew that he had to find Buck first. He watched the High Chaparral, but neither Buck nor Rebel seemed to be around. Mano finally rode once again to Tucson. It was already dark when he found Rebel tethered outside a Mexican cantina. Mano was surprised that his brother-in-law did not drink in his usual pub, but maybe Mike had thrown him out. Mano shrugged and walked into the cantina. Buck could not be overlooked; he was the only guest. He sat at a table in the middle of the bar and drank tequila. The bartender had put the chairs up and was spreading sawdust on the floor to soak up the spilled liquids.

"Buck. I thought I would find you if I looked hard enough." Manolito smiled in relief and came to the table.

"Well, you found me," his brother-in-law retorted dryly. He made a face as if he had swallowed something nasty. It had been inevitable that Mano came to see him, Buck thought. But he did not know what he could tell his friend. He had retreated to this cantina to think. At first he had thought that Big John intended to play a prank on the Maximilianistas. But when John had sold them these first-class horses this afternoon, Buck had begun to doubt whether his brother had lost his marbles. Big John had not told Buck about it, let alone asked if he wanted to ride with him. Instead, he had taken some nondescript ranch hands. Buck was sure that his brother was hiding something from him. Therefore, Buck had covertly followed him. On the way he had seen Mano who had lain in wait as well. Buck had killed two birds with one stone and had observed Mano, too. That had not been difficult at all because Manolito only had eyes for Big John. Buck had quickly realised that Mano did not know any more than he did. And it made Buck angry that while John demanded their trust, he did not deign to inform at least his own brother. An accomplice could guard his back and take care of unforeseen events so that no one became suspicious. But the way things were, Buck was condemned to inactivity.

Mano took a chair from the table and took off his hat. "Mind if I join you?"

"Yeah," Buck said firmly.

"Good," his brother-in-law grinned and pulled the chair down from the table.

"Mano, why don't you calm down?" Buck asked, sounding a little cross himself.

Manolito sighed. "Oh, come now, Buck. At first, I could not believe it. But it is true." He looked his friend in the eyes. "John Cannon is equipping the Maximilianistas."

"All I know is true is that he is selling the equipment to the Maximilians," Buck countered, his face a mask. He gritted his teeth and raised his glass. "Now, what they do with the equipment, John thinks he ain't responsible for that." He drank to get rid of the foul taste in his mouth. It did not work any better than before.

Mano's eyes narrowed. "Eh, have you forgot what my country was like before Juarez?"

Buck looked at his friend quietly. "I know, Mano."

"What do you know?" his brother-in-law asked.

"I know that you feel that you must fight for your country," Buck answered. "But John Cannon don't have to. He has his own country."

Manolito shook his head. "That is not the point, Buck. John Cannon is helping my enemy."

Buck sighed. "Judge not, lest you be judged. It's from a good book."

"Fine, defend your brother," Manolito hissed in disappointment.

"John can defend himself. He don't need me."

"Well, then how can you sit and talk like this, Buck?"

"Mano!" Buck roared. Then he blinked and took a deep breath. "Ain't none of your business." Buck raised his glass and drank again. He wanted to beat his friend senseless just to keep him out of the line of fire. Buck had come to that point before. Just a few weeks ago when Tulsa Red had tried to kill him, Buck had threatened to break Mano's leg - in three places. And if Mano had not desisted from coming with him to get John's money back, Buck would have indeed put Mano out of commission in order to protect him. But this time, it was different. This time, Buck knew that Mano did not need his protection. But maybe Mexico needed protection from Big John. Buck was willing to let Mano handle it.

"Yeah?" Manolito asked softly. "You know something? You and your brother are two of a kind." Buck straightened in his chair but kept silent. Mano got up and left.

"Maybe," Buck said softly when the door had closed behind Mano. If he was wrong in trusting his brother, he would be just as guilty of treachery as Big John. And he would not only be guilty of betraying the Mexican government, but of betraying his best friend. And in Buck's book, that was unforgivable. Buck looked like he was going to cry into his tequila. The bartender took pity on him and refilled his glass. "Gracias," Buck thanked him. He drained it in one go, then stood resolutely. "Adios."

While Buck rode back to the High Chaparral, Manolito swallowed his disappointment. He had been sure that his best friend would not let him down. He slowly rode back to the ranch he had bought together with Buck, back then when they had still been friends.

XXX

Buck fastened Rebel's reins to the corral fence and went to the ranch house with heavy steps. From inside he heard voices so loud as if the door were standing open.

"I never would have dreamed it. To think that I have been living all this time with a man who would do this," Buck heard his brother's wife. It seemed the rancher couple had a major quarrel.

"Victoria, I explained all that. And I must do what I think is best for the High Chaparral," Big John countered.

"Best for the High Chapparal. I can't believe it. You powers of reasoning must be going."

"Now, that's not true."

"I thought you were my father's friend. Do you know what my father has paid in years for Mexico to be what it is today?"

"Victoria, I have had enough of this discussion," Big John shouted. There was silence for a moment. Buck knocked at the door. After another moment Big John opened. In the background Buck saw Victoria brushing a shaky hand down her arm in an attempt to regain her composure. She kept her back turned to the door and stared morosely at the fireplace.

"I'm sorry, John," Buck quietly told his brother. "Sam just got back with the guns and ammunition. Blankets, too. I just thought you'd like to know." He threw a quick glance at Victoria, but his sister-in-law did not turn around. Buck saw that she swallowed several times.

"Oh good, yes." John nodded hesitantly, calming himself. "We'll pick the dynamite up in town. You get some rest, I'll need you to ride to Tucson in the morning. - Something else?" he asked when his brother hesitated.

Buck closed his eyes for a moment, then looked at Big John, his gaze flat. "Well, I just thought that I won't go to Tucson with you, John. I thought I'd take me a couple of weeks and do some hunting."

"Oh." The rancher looked shocked for an instant, then pulled himself together and nodded. "Well, that's fine."John realised that he had no idea exactly how long Buck would be gone. "I'll see you when you get back," he said, hoping that Buck would come back at all.

"Sure, John." Buck looked apologisingly to Victoria, lowered his head and walked away.

The rancher closed the door softly. He stood frozen for a second, then straightened and went back to his wife. Victoria was still staring at the fireplace. Tears were glistening in her eyes. Her family fell apart. She had thought that it would be Buck who went away first and that Mano would follow him. But it made absolutely no difference who left and who stayed. No one had a say on John Cannon's ranch. It had always been so and would never change. As long as her husband did the right thing, that was no big deal. But now, everything was different. Victoria was well aware of what the future held in store for her. Most ranch hands would quit because they no longer liked it at the High Chaparral. Her husband would have to sell acre after acre because he could not manage such a large spread on his own. In the end she would live alone with John with no contact to the outside world. At first she would stay away from Tucson and Mexico out of shame, at later times because she could no longer afford such a trip.

"Victoria, you are the one person on this earth that I mean never to raise my voice to," John told her quietly, interrupting her thoughts.

"I'm sorry I have been getting excited," Victoria replied. She turned to her husband. "But John, guns, ammunition. I just beg you to stop this terrible thing you're doing."

The rancher looked at her softly. "Victoria, it's not quite what-" He stopped. "Well, there are some things that- You know how deeply I love you, don't you?" he asked at last.

"I know, John." A moment later Victoria shook her head. "But now, I don't know any more." She turned away and went to the upper floor. Big John remained in the living room, staring at the fireplace as if hoping to find an answer there.

XXX

Buck was about to open the corral gate when Wind came to him. "You're running out, too, huh?" the boy said, looking at him in disappointment.

"No." Buck took the reins to mount, feeling his anger rise.

"I expected it from Mano," Wind said softly, "but not from you."

Buck turned around. "Look, boy, you ain't deserve any kind of answer. But I am going hunting."

"You're running out," Wind insisted.

Buck took a deep breath. "I'll say this for you, boy. When you butt in, you don't do it by halfs. What's gnawing at you?" he demanded.

Wind looked him in the eyes. "You leaving the ranch now, that's what."

"You take an awful lot on yourself, boy, you know that? I ain't so sure that this conversation is gonna end peaceful. I come, I go like I please. Get used to that." Buck turned back to his horse.

"I'm not looking for a fight, Buck," Wind said quietly.

Buck turned around again and looked at him dismissively. "A fight? With you? Well, then I guess you don't find one." He took the reins and mounted at last.

Wind came to stand beside Rebel, looking pleadingly up at him. "Help me," he said softly.

Buck froze. "What?"

"Just help me understand this."

Buck frowned. "This? Well, how, boy? How? I mean, it don't make no sense to me, either."

"Is that why you choose now to go hunting?" Wind asked.

"I guess," Buck admitted.

"So you think your brother is wrong, too?"

Buck nodded. "Maybe I do. For the look of it."

"But what about what you said to me? That he always has a good reason for what he does?" Wind insisted.

"Oh, John does. Whatever he does is right. You ask tough ones, don't you?" Buck sighed in annoyance, and Wind lowered his head.

"It's just that in this thing John didn't let me in on. What that might be," Buck said finally. "I just don't want to stand around and watch what might be happening here. Does that make any sense at all?"

Wind blinked. He remembered that he had recently seen the boss with a man.

"Hm?" Buck asked impatiently when he got no answer.

The boy nodded. "Sort of."

"Good."

Wind suddenly smiled. "What are you gonna hunt?"

"Mountain lion," Buck said off-handedly.

"Try Thunder Canyon."

Buck shook his head. "Boy, everybody knows there ain't no mountain lions there. I never heard of them being there."

Wind's smile turned serious. "You have now."

Buck laughed. "All right. I have now." He swallowed, wondering what he would learn there. If he concluded that his brother acted wrongly, he would turn his back on the ranch. Buck curtly nodded to the boy. "Thunder Canyon. Adios."

Wind watched Buck ride from the ranch. And suddenly he felt lonely. Buck had never openly admitted that he liked him. He had never made an effort to befriend him. But he had finally accepted him. And Wind realised only now how much that acceptance meant to him.

Sam gave the ranch hands instructions where to store the weapons and ammunition before he retired to the bunkhouse. Joe stuck around, waiting for the right moment. He suddenly dropped everything and followed his brother inside.

"Sam, I want to talk to you," Joe said as soon as he had closed the door.

"What's up?" The foreman grabbed his rope that was threatening to come apart and put it on the table.

"What the boss is doing." Joe leaned against the post by the door and looked at Sam with a frown. "It's all wrong, and I'm not having any more part of it."

"Now look, Joe-"

"No, you look," his brother interrupted him. "It's not just me, either. All the men are grumbling."

The foreman shrugged. "Well, I'm used to them grumbling. It doesn't mean they're gonna get out of doing their job."

Joe took a few steps towards the table, leaning his arm against the wall. "This is different, and you know it, Sam," he insisted.

Sam shook his head, his eyes fixed on the lasso. "Not to me, it isn't. Work is work. When I give an order, I expect it to be carried out."

"Or what?"

Sam looked seriously at his brother. "You know the answer to that."

"Get off the ranch?" Joe asked incredulously.

"I hope it never comes to that between you and me," the foreman said almost pleadingly.

Joe nodded. "Yeah, I know." He let out a sigh as he gazed up at the roof.

"The rest of the men know how you feel?" Sam asked.

His brother shook his head. "No. Not yet. "He began to pace the room. Finally, he leaned against a bunk bed with a sigh. "But none of them like what the boss is doing. And me, I hate it. And I can't pretend I don't any more."

Sam turned to his brother. "Where does that leave me?" he asked.

"You?" Joe looked at Sam over his shoulder in surprise.

"Yeah." The foreman nodded. "The men look to you just like they look to me. You give me trouble, and I'll have trouble with every hand on the ranch."

Joe shook his head. "Sam, this ain't got to do with you. It's Big John and all-"

"When I decide that John Cannon is dead wrong on a thing this big, that's the day that I quit," Sam interrupted. "But until that time, Joe, I expect your backing. If not for him, then for me."

Frowning, Joe sat down on the lower bunk bed. "You put it that way- You got it," he said in a small voice.

Sam nodded. "Thanks." When they heard the hoofbeat, they went to the door and watched in shock as Buck left the ranch. The foreman looked sideways at his brother. "That does not mean that I have to trust him blindly," he murmured.

"What do you mean?" Joe asked.

"I'll get me some answers," Sam said firmly and started for the house.

The door was open. Sam went to the office where Big John was putting away his ledger books, heaving a sigh. He knocked and entered. Suddenly he felt unsure. Why, he thought, should he get an answer if not even Buck or Mano had got one? Burying his hands in his pockets, he began hesitantly: "Boss, there is something I-"

"What's the matter, Sam?" Big John looked at him neutrally.

The foreman took a deep breath and stood a little straighter. "I think you better give me some reasons for doing business with that bunch of-"

"Why?" the rancher asked levelly.

"Because I'm having trouble to control the men. My own brother is-" Sam saw Big John's expression darken. It was probably best to leave that particular word out of the discussion. "I need to know any to disperse the trouble," he said instead.

"You realise it is not your place to question my decisions, don't you?" the rancher told him summarily.

Sam shook his head. "Well, Sir, I'm making it my place now."

Big John lowered his head. "I'm sorry, Sam. There is nothing I can tell you." It was said softly, not stubbornly as one would expect it from a knothead who only wanted to get his way without considering the consequences.

Sam pondered. "There is one thing I would like to hear," he cautiously tried another tack.

Big John looked back up. "What?"

"You know me pretty well," Sam said.

The rancher nodded. "I'd say."

The foreman took a deep breath. "Am I the kind of man to be part of this?" he asked firmly.

The hint of a smile crept over Big John's face. "Yes," he said with conviction.

"Hm, hm," Sam muttered thoughtfully, then looked up resolutely. "All right, Mr. Cannon. That'll do me. I'll try and hold down the trouble." He turned and left the building. John watched him go, grateful and a little sad. He wished Buck or Mano would have asked him this question.

XXX

At midnight John saddled his horse and rode from the ranch. Since Sam had night watch, John did not have to sneak out of his own house like a thief this time but could ride out openly.

Big John rode to Thunder Canyon. Dismounting, he gave the other a grim look. "I didn't realise what I was getting into," he began, putting a log on the fire. "The cost. Tucson. My brother looking at me as if I had lost my mind. Manolito marching off the place. Even my wife's about to throw me over."

The other lit a cigar and shrugged. "What did you expect when you said you would help us?" He watched as Big John paced restlessly around the fire, growling sullenly. "I need not have to say it, neither. The degree to which you are making the men become disgusted with you is the degree to which you are succeeding."

Now it was Big John who shrugged. "Well."

"The Maximilianistas now believe you."

John sat down by the fire to warm his hands and looked up seriously. "That they do, but that can change, and quite quickly."

His co-conspirator shook his head. "It is all working perfectly. When Juarez ordered me to seek your aid, I must admit I did not think it would work. But now-" He began to smile. "Now I think Juarez picked the right man. I think we will find out who is their source of money. And who is making these Napoleons strut."

Big John nodded. The other extinguished the fire, waved a short goodbye and rode away. John, too, rode back home.

Buck grimly expelled the air from his lungs. He had hidden behind a boulder in Thunder Canyon and had overheard the conversation. Now he finally knew what Big John was doing, but Buck still could do nothing to help his brother. If he returned to the High Chaparral, someone might become suspicious. Likewise if he took Mano out of commission. Buck realised that he had chosen the wrong path. He mounted his horse and went indeed hunting. His brother and his brother-in-law were now on their own, and Buck preferred not to stick around and maybe see them die.

The next morning, Big John rode with Wind, Joe and two other ranch hands to Tucson to buy the dynamite. The rancher had sent his men ahead to Gist's general store telling them he would follow suit. But when he rode up to the shop half an hour later, he sighed inwardly. He could see from afar that his intervention was required.

"Nothing but trouble, and you ain't loading until I say so," he heard Gist tell Joe.

Joe paced impatiently in front of the store. "I told you he'd be here." He nodded towards his approaching boss, a look of relief on his face.

Big John stopped in front of Gist. "What's this all about?"

"Like I told your hand Joe here, Mr. Cannon," the shopkeeper spoke up angrily. "I ain't selling until I hear from you you're not selling to them Maximilians."

"Is that right?" the rancher asked grimly. "I buy my wire from you, don't I? My clothing goods from you, my nails from you, my kerosene from you. Because of that, you step in here real close, Mr. Gist." John waited until the man was standing beside his horse and was looking up to him. "There had been winters when I kept you going, right?"

"Well, yes, Mr. Cannon," Gist nodded. "I- uh-"

Big John stared at him adamantly. "My men are going to load that dynamite now. You just stepback into your store, and I'll settle with you as soon as they are through. Is that clear?"

Gist nodded curtly and disappeared into his store. John watched him go for a moment, then turned to his men. "Load it, Joe."

"Load it," Joe relayed the order.

The rancher was about to dismount when he noticed Manolito who was watching him from the corner of the opposite house. Manolito had spent another sleepless night on the Cannon-Montoya ranch. In the morning he had ridden to Tucson because he did not know what else to do. Big John hesitated a moment, then got off his horse. Manolito walked past him, ignoring him. John wondered if it would make a difference if he tried to talk to his brother-in-law. He was about to follow Mano when the banker Carlisle came from his office and leaned with a sneer on the hitching rack. "Well, John, you didn't take my advice, did you," he sounded off, then went back into his bank. A moment later Colonel Ruiz suddenly appeared beside John. He took the rancher by the arm. "Señor Cannon, I have important things to speak about with you," he whispered. "First of all-"

"Let's get off the street," the rancher whispered back. He extracted his arm from Ruiz' grip and followed the colonel into a side alley.

"The time has come," Ruiz told him excitedly. "You can bring us the fifty horses, the guns and the dynamite by tomorrow?"

John nodded. "You can get it. If I meet the man with the money."

The colonel made a face as if he had swallowed a bunch of lemons but nodded wordlessly.

"Then I guess we've said what there is to say," the rancher concluded and walked back to his men.

XXX

That night, Big John met again with his co-conspirator to report.

"They may try to kill you once they have the supplies," the other said worriedly.

The rancher paced in front of the fire, rubbing his chin. "Yes, I thought about that before I started this, Señor Sanchez." He mounted his horse.

Sanchez looked up at him. "What possible favour can the Lieutenant of Juarez's troop do to repay such extraordinary sacrifices?"

John shrugged. "Well, this is partly for Juarez and partly for Manolito and for my wife. The rest is because the land that divides the desert divides two countries. It cannot divide the conscience."

Sanchez nodded sadly and raised his hand. "Vaya con dios, Señor Cannon."

They rode off in opposite directions. After a few miles Sanchez stopped and snapped his fingers, grinning happily. Now he knew how he could reward John Cannon. He only had to wait a few more hours.

XXX

The next morning Sam and the ranch hands delivered the dynamite to the Maximilianistas. As they drove the two empty wagons back to the High Chaparral, they met up with Manolito. Sam raised his hand, and the men stopped.

"You made a delivery?" Manolito asked once he had brought his horse to a halt.

"That's right, Mano," Sam nodded.

"Does this finish it?"

Sam shrugged. "Finish what?"

"Are you going to continue working for the enemies of my people?" Manolito rephrased his question.

"We don't like it, either, Mano," Joe interjected.

Sam looked at his brother. "Joe, I asked you to keep out of this." Addressing Manolito, he continued: "Who I work for is John Cannon. If I go on working for him is something I have to decide after this job is finished."

"Even though you know John is more than wrong? That he is immoral?" Mano asked, appalled.

"I finish what I start," the foreman replied firmly.

"So do I."

"Mano," Sam spoke up as the Mexican made to ride off. "How far are you gonna go to try to stop Big John?"

"As far as necessary," Manolito replied through gritted teeth. "If I have to, I will blow up the camp myself." He wheeled his horse around and galloped away.

Sam sighed. "Let's go." He waved to the others, and they resumed their trek.

Big John had saddled his horse and awaited Sam's return in the barn. He had not been able to stand the atmosphere in the house. Victoria walked around with an expression that was heart-rendering, but he had to keep the secret, Big John reminded himself sternly. If Ruiz' lot suspected that he was not on their side, he would meet with a bullet instead of the financial backer. When he spied Sam and the empty wagons approaching, he led his horse from the stable.

"Sam, is everything all right?" Big John asked quietly.

The foreman nodded. "Yeah, no trouble, boss. I'm sure glad to be out of there. That's a mean-looking outfit. Oh, that leader of them, Colonel Ruiz, he's waiting for you. You sure you don't want any company when you go see them?"

"No, it's fine. No escort," the rancher fended off the offer as he fastened the reins at the hitching rack in front of the house. He entered just as his wife passed the door. "Victoria I'll be gone for quite a while," he told her quietly.

"Well." Victoria looked at him blankly and walked to the stairs.

John followed her. "Victoria."

His wife stopped on the upper landing and turned to face him. "No, John, no," she said in disgust. "Go to these men. Talk to them. I'm your wife. I therefore stay in our house. I remain your wife. I do not go away like Manolito or Buck. But I don't have to give you respect or bid you goodbye when you go to see those Maximilianistas."

"Of course you don't," her husband replied. "Victoria, this will be over today. All of it."

Victoria looked at him skeptically. "Will the memory of it be over today also? Will the memory of what you have done disappear with the sun?"

"It will be over, Victoria," the rancher promised her.

His wife shook her head. "Many things we have shared will be over, John. But not my humiliation with my father for what you have done. My father spent a lifetime fighting for the cause of Juarez. And not my humiliation with myself for having so completely misjudged you."

John looked up at her. "I'll be back, and you'll be back," he insisted.

Victoria watched him go, shaking her head once more.

Big John hurried to the camp of the Maximilianistas. He wanted to finish this as quickly as possible. Manolito had lain in wait in the drainage ditch beside the road and followed him. However, Big John realized very quickly that someone was shadowing him. Rounding a bend, he hid behind the bushes lining the road and waited for his pursuer to approach. When he recognised Manolito, he left his hiding place and stopped in the middle of the road. "Mano!"

Manolito reined his horse in beside his brother-in-law. "I did not think you saw me."

"Yes, I saw you," Big John replied sternly.

"Are you going to the Maximilianistas?" Manolito asked.

"That's right," John nodded. "And don't you follow me."

His brother-in-law shook his head. "Then you might have to shoot me, John. That is the only way to stop me from following you."

"All they need is to see you to think I betrayed them," the rancher said.

Mano nodded. "Which is something you are very good at," he retorted sharply.

"And they'll kill me. You go back, and I live. You come with me, and you sign my death warrant. It's your choice." Big John turned his horse around and rode on.

Manolito stared thoughtfully after his brother-in-law. "You or my country," he whispered. "I'm sorry, John," he said determinedly after a moment's hesitation and followed the rancher.

Victoria, meanwhile, was desperately trying to distract herself. She went into her little garden, picked some flowers and arranged them in the vase that stood on the dresser in the living room. Usually this pastime cheered her up and gave her the feeling of having created something beautiful. But today the flowers looked dead. She paced the room, her hands clasped behind her back. She searched for something useful to do but could not think straight. Wind who did guard duty at the house saw her wandering around and stopped by the door. "Mrs. Cannon?"

Victoria came to the entrance. "Hello, Wind," she greeted the boy and looked at him questioningly.

"Is there anything I can do?" Wind asked.

"Like what?"

"Like maybe talk," the boy said. "I've never seen you look so troubled."

"Thank you. That's very kind of you." Victoria went to the porch bench and sat down, wringing her hands. "I would need advice."

Wind took another step towards her. "If I'm not keeping my place, I apologise."

"Oh, no," Victoria hastily assured him. "I'm grateful that you care." This way, time would pass a little faster, and it would keep her from thinking about her husband and what he concealed from her.

"I'd like to say, knowing your husband, there's got to be more to what he is doing than shows," the boy began with conviction. Since Buck had not come back to the ranch, Wind was sure that the man had learned something significant in Thunder Canyon. And if Buck believed that John Cannon was in the wrong, he would have acted by now. He certainly had had enough time to do so.

"Oh, Wind. I tried to think so, too," Victoria answered, her face pinched. "But what could have been so wrong to cause me such pain and humiliation that he won't tell me?"

"I don't know. But if you trusted him up to now, it doesn't make sense to stop until you find out that maybe there is some."

"There isn't anything I wish more to be true than that," Victoria sighed.

Wind gave her a sympathetic smile. "Then be more gentle with yourself until you know."

Victoria nodded faintly. "You're right. Thank you."

Wind, feeling suddenly shy, lowered his eyes. He nodded as well and went back to his guard duty.

XXX

Big John rode into Ruiz's camp. He dismounted and handed the reins to one of Ruiz's soldiers. The man led the horse into the corral. John meanwhile went to Ruiz's tent. The guard there knocked on the tent flap when he saw him approaching. A moment later the colonel emerged. "Ah, Señor Cannon," he greeted his business partner. "The soldiers brought fifty horses but only thirty saddles."

"Yeah," John nodded, allowing himself a small smile. "Looks like twenty of your men are gonna have to ride into Mexico on a blister."

The colonel kept a straight face. "Er, yes, but the rest of the order is perfect."

The rancher looked pleased. "Fine. Well, you know what I'm here for."

"Uh, yes," stammered Ruiz. He made an inviting gesture and motioned for the guard to hold up the tent flap. "This way, Señor Cannon."

Big John stooped to enter the tent. When he straightened up inside, he froze in amazement.

"Come in, John," Carlisle smiled at him.

"So you're the pay master," the rancher exclaimed.

The banker straightened, looking proud as a peacock. "Yes, John. I'm the one."

Big John came to the table. "Have you thought about the risk? Juarez's troops might just beat these boys."

Carlisle shrugged and waved dismissively. "Well, it's the risk of a little capital. That's all, John. They might not get anywhere down there, but I've lost money before. Probably will again. But John, if they win..." Smiling in anticipation, he unscrolled a map. "How do I look as the ruler of a rancho from about here down to there? Something like a quarter of a million square miles." He ran his index finger over the map, outlining the area.

Big John stared at the map. The man must be crazy if he thought Don Sebastian would give up his hacienda without resistance. Even if John himself failed to bring the Maximilianistas down, Buck would not stand idly by and watch the Montoyas getting expelled from their land. Carlisle had bitten off a lot more than he could chew, the rancher realised with satisfaction.

The banker, however, smiled blissfully. "All my life I've been thinking to buy a few acres. You tell me. Is it worth the investment, or not?"

Big John shook his head. "What about the moral aspect? You mentioned that to me a few days ago."

"Well, John," Carlisle said slowly, giving the rancher a cheeky grin. "I guess that's about as important to me as it is to you."

"So?" Big John asked with a slight grin of his own.

"You know, when your brother-in-law pulled out on you, you had me almost convinced that you were a good risk," Carlisle announced.

John's face clouded over. "Almost?"

"Then, when I heard you and your misses were having a rough time of it, then I figured it was all right to get together," the banker continued unfazed, extending a hand to his business partner.

Big John hesitated, then his hand went to his breast pocket. "Oh, I have the tally here, Carlisle." He proffered the list to the banker.

Carlisle ignored the affront. He nodded and reached with his left hand into his jacket pocket. "Good, John. And here is your money." He looked at the wad of bills in amusement. "You can bet I wouldn't cheat you, John. You're the man I want to continue to do business with." He handed the money over to John. Just as Big John was about to accept the wad, they heard voices outside the tent. "What's he doing here? Who is this man?"

Carlisle drew his hand back and pocketed his money again. He went out to see what was going on. Big John followed him hard on the heels. He saw his brother-in-law. Mano was struggling in the grip of two guards who dragged him into the camp proper. Colonel Ruiz also arrived on the scene.

The banker turned to the colonel. "Did you bring him here with you?"

Ruiz shook his head. "He followed John Cannon."

The rancher stared daggers at his brother-in-law. Mano looked back defiantly.

"No, I don't like this." Carlisle thoughtfully rubbed his chin. "There's no chance that you're not really in this with us, is there, John?"

"Why did you follow me, Mano?" Big John barked. "You're a fool. A fool on the wrong side. I'll take him with me. He won't talk to anybody. I'll see to that."

"I'm afraid that won't be at all possible," the banker put in. "I'm just trying to decide if either of you'll go back."

"You are perfectly safe in letting him go back. He is one hundred per cent with these butchers. I can assure you, he is," Manolito spat.

Carlisle and Ruiz exchanged a skeptical look.

Mano turned to his brother-in-law. "I did not follow you to watch you ride into camp, brother-in-law. I followed you to watch you ride out of the camp. Because I did not want to see you get killed when I put a shot in this dynamite that would scatter their dreams with their horses," he said and began to struggle anew. "But you have-"

"Basta, basta!" the colonel commanded. Manolito calmed down, and the guards finally let him go. Ruiz drew his revolver, pointing it at Mano.

Big John rushed to his brother-in-law. "I'll teach him to follow me!" He let his fist connect with Manolito's chin, and Mano crumpled to the ground.

"Colonel Ruiz, put away that gun," Carlisle admonished his partner.

"But he could destroy us all," Ruiz exclaimed heatedly. "Our plans, even our whole lives."

"Killing a Montoya would only succeed in making us even more hated than we already are," the banker pointed out.

"Yes, if one of us kills him," Ruiz nodded with a sneaky grin. "But if his own brother-in-law..."

Carlisle looked blankly at the colonel. "What are you talking about?"

"If John Cannon kills him," Ruiz explained matter-of-factly, "that not only leaves us out of danger. It will prove once and for all he's got faith."

"Don't be a fool," the banker said, looking stunned. "To ask the man to buy supplies for us, this is one thing. But to expect him to kill a-"

"Carlisle," Big John interrupted him and held out his hand for Ruiz's gun. He had to act quickly. Mano was coming around. He was rubbing his chin and had already made it to his knees.

The colonel gave John his revolver. Then he took up position beside Carlisle and the guards. John cocked the weapon, aimed it at Manolito and grimly watched his brother-in-law. He waited until Mano was fully cognizant so that he understood what was going on.

Manolito stared at the rancher. "John," he breathed in disbelief, swallowing hard.

The rancher's eyes flashed. The next moment he spun around and pointed the revolver at Ruiz and Carlisle. "Stop," he ordered.

The colonel raised his hands. "Do as he says," he told his men.

"Silencio, or your colonel gets a full military funeral," Big John concurred emphatically.

Manolito rose slowly. "John, hombre," he beamed. Then he relieved the guards of their weapons. "I will get the horses."

Ruiz shook his head sheepishly. "We already had it. The horses and the guns and all," he whined.

"They won't do you one bit of good. There's a full US Cavalry detail at the border to make sure you won't cross with this military shipment of yours," Big John interrupted him. He watched with satisfaction as Carlisle's mouth fell open. John went to the banker and reached into the man's jacket pocket. "I'll just take this, Carlisle. When the territorial government gets through with you, you won't have a bank. So I'll take my money now. You travel with your friends. Mano?" he then asked without turning around. He had heard his brother-in-law come back with the horses, but did not want to let the Maximilianistas out of his sight.

"I've got them, John," Mano assured him. He was sitting on Mackadoo and kept the men in check with his revolver.

"You just stay calm, "John warned the banker and the colonel as he mounted, then glanced at Mano. "Let's go."

They raced away from the camp. As they galloped past the makeshift corral, they shot into the air and stampeded the horses. Ruiz's men sent shots after them, but John and Mano were already too far away for the bullets to reach them.

After a few miles Big John finally stopped. "Well, I guess we can take it easy for the rest of the way."

"Yes," Mano nodded, pushing his hat back. "John, how can I apologise?" he asked sheepishly.

"You can't," the rancher replied adamantly.

Mano looked at him thoughtfully and put his hands on his hips. "Well, at least I was of some good to you. Whether I knew it or not," he concluded.

"Oh yeah, you were a great help," John said dryly. He laughed. "Come on."

Manolito smiled. "All right."

Together they rode to the cavalry to report. While the soldiers set out to arrest the Maximilianistas, John and Manolito rode homewards.

"John, bienvenido." Beaming all over her face, Victoria opened her arms when she saw her husband riding in with Manolito.

"Oh, it's nice to feel welcome." The rancher smilingly dismounted and put his arm around his wife's shoulders. "It's over, Victoria."

"I know," his wife nodded, laughing happily.

"You do?" John asked blankly, wondering how she had found out.

"Yes." His wife beamed some more and turned towards the house.

A Mexican stepped outside and came to them. "Señor Cannon," he began. "I understand you two have been efficient, but-"

"Manolito," Victoria interrupted the man and hugged her brother.

"Victoria, it is good to be home," Mano sighed.

"John fooled all of us," Victoria said in amazement.

Mano nodded. "Yes, he did."

"It was the banker Carlisle, Señor Sanchez," the rancher explained. "He was the financial backer we had to find."

Manolito pointed to the Mexican and looked at his brother-in-law expectantly. "I take it, John, that this gentleman is-?"

"A co-conspirator. Julio Sanchez," the rancher told him. "The first lieutenant for the great Benito Juarez."

Mano bowed. "Juarez himself. We are deeply grateful, señor."

"No more than I am." Sanchez briefly touched John's arm, noticing the rancher's serious gaze. "Such a man, who has the gratitude of the government of Mexico, a beautiful señora," he said with a smile, "and perhaps even an impetuous youth."

Mano laughed and followed the others into the house.

XXX

Manolito waited a week for Buck to return. He watched John grow more concerned every day and, to Mano's surprise, even experience pangs of remorse. But he refused to talk about it. Finally, Manolito decided to look for his friend. He checked every single one of Buck's hiding places, but neither had been used lately. Baffled, Mano rode to Tucson. He asked around, but nobody had seen Buck since that evening when Mano had met him in the cantina. Manolito rented a room in the hotel and got comfortable, thinking that his brother-in-law would show up in town sooner or later. But when another week had passed without a life sign of his friend, Mano rode on to Tubac, then to Benson, and finally to Tombstone. In each town he got the same answer. Buck had traded the fur of a mountain lion for whisky, had drunk all night, had got into a fight with one cowboy or another, and had left again at sun-up. Manolito breathed a sigh of relief. Now he at least knew that his friend was still alive. And he seemed to catch up with Buck. His friend had left Tombstone only three days ago. Mano pondered. The towns Buck chose for his drinking sprees became ever more dangerous. As if he was looking for trouble. The next step would be the outlaw settlements along the Mexican border. Buck had once ridden into such a town when he had been looking for the faithless husband of his ex-girlfriend. If only he could remember the name, Mano thought desperately. It had sounded almost like Lobo. Lo-Bo. Lone Bend, that was it. Mano turned his horse south, a queasy feeling in his stomach. Buck had very nearly got himself killed back then.

XXX

Manolito entered the destroyed saloon. "Did a herd of cattle stampede through here?" he asked the bartender as the man poured him a glass of tequila.

The other shook his head. "No. Just a single rogue."

"Only one?" Mano exclaimed in surprise and put his drink back down.

The barkeeper nodded. "I've seen a lot of crazy fellas in my time, but the one who came in yesterday gave me the creeps. Looked like the devil himself. Was spoiling for a fight. Well, he got it," the man said dryly, gazing around.

"And who provoked him?" Mano asked with a grin.

"Provoked? They merely offered him a business deal, as far as I heard. But before they got around to explaining the details, he beat them to a bloody pulp. The whole gang."

Manolito's smile vanished abruptly. "A gang?" he asked uncertainly. "How many exactly?"

"Five men."

Mano whistled through his teeth in admiration.

"No one dared to stop him. When he had finally let off enough steam, he left. But an hour later a doctor arrived." The barkeeper laughed. "A really noble hombre. Almost wet himself when he came in here. Probably got convinced the same way as the ones he's treating upstairs." He casually pointed with his thumb to the upper floor.

"Did you see which way my compadre went?" Mano asked. "I mean the one who turned your furniture into firewood."

"He your compadre? To the west," the barkeeper replied sullenly. "Some advice, my boy. Make him see reason. And tell him to stay away, or my gun'll make him look like a sieve the next time he sets a foot in here."

Manolito nodded and rode westwards. After a few miles he saw Rebel grazing by the roadside. Buck was lying in the grass, sleeping off his hangover. Mano laughed, glad that he had finally found his friend. But when he scrutinised Buck, he became serious. His friend looked drawn and seemed to have lost some weight. Mano built a fire and cooked lunch. About three o'clock in the afternoon he ate it himself. Buck had not stirred so far. Mano let him sleep and cooked dinner instead. As the smell of coffee wafted over to him, Buck finally opened eyes and looked around in confusion. When he noticed Mano sitting by the fire, he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Hey, compadre," Mano smiled and handed Buck a plate. "Here, you must be hungry."

Buck took the plate wordlessly and hesitantly began to eat. After the first bite he stared absently at the ground. So Mano was alive. Then John was probably dead. Buck's breath hitched. Then he pulled himself together. Maybe that conclusion was a bit hasty. If someone of the High Chaparral had died, he surely would have heard about it. And if he had not been such a coward, he would have gone back to check on his family. Besides, Mano did not look like he had come with bad news. But what would he have done if Mano had been killed, Buck wondered. What would he do if John was dead after all?

Manolito watched his friend worriedly. Buck stared at his plate as if he hoped to read the future in it. He seemed to be waiting for something. "Your brother deceived us all, but he did a great job," Manolito finally spoke up. "He delivered more weapons than the Maximilianistas could pay for and met up with their financial backer. It was Carlisle, the banker. As soon as John had found that out, he brought in the army to arrest them. He has reconciled with Victoria, and we are all just waiting for you to come back home."

"And what did you do, Mano?" Buck asked hoarsely, his eyes still fixed on his plate.

"What do you mean?" Manolito asked in a small voice.

Buck looked up with burning eyes. "I bet you were right in the middle of it."

Manolito lowered his head. "Yes. I- I tried to blow up the camp," he said softly. "But they caught me. John got me out."

"Can you be any less specific?" Buck grumbled.

Manolito haltingly gave his friend a detailed account. He wanted to apologize when he had finished, but Buck held up a hand. "It's all right, Mano. It certainly wasn't your fault. Come on, let's ride. We should be home by tomorrow evening."

Mano covertly watched Buck. His friend rode silently beside him, looking more grim with every mile. Manolito heaved a sigh of relief when they finally reached the High Chaparral. John and Victoria came from the house to greet them, and Mano saw the rancher look abruptly subdued.

Buck dismounted. "Big John," he nodded to his brother, steel in his voice and radiating tension. Manolito hesitantly came to stand beside his friend, hoping at the same time that Buck would ignore him. He had the impression that he was standing next to a powder keg that could explode at any moment, and he did not want to accidentally say or do anything that would light the fuse.

Victoria looked from one man to the other, smiling uncertainly. "You are just in time for dinner."

After an exceptionally quiet meal, Buck retreated to his room. Mano remained at the table and told John and Victoria how he had found Buck. Silence reigned when he had finished.

John finally rose. "I'll go check on him."

The younger Cannon brother stood at the window, staring out with unseeing eyes.

"Buck, what's wrong?" Big John asked in a tone that suggested that he knew exactly what was wrong.

Manolito crept to Buck's door and listened in on the conversation. "The next time you pull a stunt like that, leave Mano out of it," he heard Buck say in a hollow voice. Manolito froze in surprise.

"I've done what I could to keep him out of it," Big John countered.

Buck whirled around. "You were lucky, that's all," he hissed. "You know exactly how Mano reacts. Everybody on the High Chaparral is your responsibility, as you keep spouting. Well, then you should act that way. With a little planning, most of this mess could have been avoided."

John shook his head. "I couldn't tell you."

"Why not?" Buck countered. "The three of us could have staged a show that would probably have brought better results. But we certainly wouldn't have been worse. Remember Deacon, the boy who blamed you for his father's death? This business with them Maximilians was no different." Buck's voice grew louder. "But you insist on doing it alone? If you can keep unsuspecting friends out of the line of fire, that's fine. If you can't, let somebody else handle it."

"Buck." Big John sighed and went to his brother, intending to put a hand on Buck's shoulder. His brother turned away abruptly and stormed out of the room. John leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest. Together with Mano he watched Buck go to the front door.

"I take the night watch," they heard him say before the door slammed shut. John and Mano winced in unison.

"He is pretty upset," Manolito said finally.

"And not just that," the rancher answered, heaving a sigh.

Mano looked at him questioningly. "What do you mean?"

"Buck could kick himself right now."

"Why? Because he has not been able to help you?" Manolito lowered his head. "He tried to tell me to trust you without betraying you. And I- got angry."

John shook his head. "That's not what's eating at him. Buck is feeling a bit off-balance. He knows it was a close call, for both of us. You know the saying 'an eye for an eye'. However, had I been responsible for your death, he wouldn't have been able to exact revenge."

"That's understandable. After all, you are his brother," Manolito nodded, remembering Buck's words. Judge not, lest you be judged.

"He would have been just as unable to exact revenge," Big John continued slowly, "if you had been responsible for my death."

Manolito gasped. It was the same old theme in the umpteenth variation. Buck was about to leave the High Chaparral. Mano sighed. "That's why he was picking fights. He took it out on those bandidos. Will he be all right, eventually?" he asked.

John nodded thoughtfully. "I think so, but it will take time. Go to him, Mano. Keep him company. And tell him I'll let somebody else handle it next time."

"Or consult with us first," Manolito curtailed.

The rancher looked up. A smile crossed his face. "Or consult with you first," he nodded.

Mano also began to smile. A second later he was out of the door, following Buck.