"We've got to do something about Day Pardee!" declared Joe Carbajal.
"Well, I think we're all agreed on that, Joe," I said, "but the question is: What?"
"Bring in hired guns!" His answer startled all of us assembled in the Lancer Great Room.
"Now, wait a minute!" protested Paul. "Bringing in hired guns means killing. It hasn't come to that, yet."
"It will," said Carbajal grimly. "I've been finding out about this Day Pardee. He's a gunfighter himself, dodged the hangman's noose a couple of times. He won't stop at murder. If we have to get in first, then so be it."
Paul shook his head. "If we have to defend ourselves, then yes, we should do whatever we have to. But being the first to draw blood ... no, that's not the way."
Joe was at Lancer to talk about the threat we were under from Day Pardee. He was worried. All the Central Valley ranchers were worried; some were getting scared. Pardee was trying to drive us out, take over the land. Cattle were being stolen or killed, buildings and fields had been burned, ranch hands threatened. Pardee had a couple of dozen men with him – bandits, hardened gunfighters. The threat was real; we couldn't ignore it any longer.
"Bringing in hired guns sounds all very well, Joe," said Lars Petersen, "but how could we trust them? We'd want them to fight against their own kind. How could we know they wouldn't go over to Pardee? We might find ourselves worse off."
Lars had come up from San Jose for an auction in Green River, and was spending a few days at Lancer. He was as worried as any of us.
"We'd have to make it worth their while," said Carbajal. "We won't get out of this cheaply but it will be worth it. We're talking about our ranches here, our land, our livelihoods, even if it doesn't come to our lives. Whatever we have to pay to get the best and frighten Pardee off, we should do it."
"Who do you mean by 'the best', Joe?" asked Petersen. "I know you, you've got someone in mind. Who do you think will be able to frighten off Pardee?"
"Johnny Madrid," replied Joe. "He's the top, the best gunfighter in the south west, and all the other gunfighters know it. If we can get him on our side, he's our best chance."
"And if we send for him and then he goes over to Pardee's side, then we've got no chance," retorted Petersen. "How do we make sure he stays with us?"
"We have to make sure we have an edge," Joe said. "It will take more than money, though we'll have to pay him plenty, make no mistake. But we'll have to offer him something extra. We'll have to offer him what Pardee will offer: land. It might mean each of us giving some up, but better to give away a little than to lose it all, and that's what's going to happen, believe me!"
"Give land to a gunfighter!" spluttered Petersen. "Carbajal, you're crazy!"
"No, Lars, I'm not crazy," Joe said, the grim note returning to his voice. "Think about it. You're right, there's no way we can guarantee Johnny Madrid will fight for our land – but he might fight for his own."
I said nothing; I didn't trust myself to say anything. Paul had stayed silent, too, but now he said quietly, "Joe, if it comes to hiring guns, I think you're right. We'd need the best and it would take more than money. But it hasn't come to that yet. If we stand firm for long enough, we'll wear them out. Remember the Judd Haney raids, years ago? We came through those by hanging on; fighting when we had to, but mainly just hanging on until Haney destroyed himself. Pardee will do the same."
Carbajal shook his head. "Somehow, I feel Pardee's different. We can wait a little longer and see, Paul. I hope it does turn out the way you say, but I'm going to get my contacts in Mexico to track down Johnny Madrid – so we'll be ready."
"I have another idea," I said. My mind had been working. "I have an old friend, a lawman, name of Joe Barker. He's the best, too, but on the right side of the law. And the law is what we need, not just to stop Pardee now, but to keep his kind from threatening us any more. I'll write to Barker tonight. Once he sees a sheriff's badge, Pardee will probably back off. "
"Can't argue with you about us needing the law in this part of the country, Murdoch, but even the best lawman will need all the guns he can get to make a show against the Pardee gang. I'll still put out the feelers for Madrid."
Joe had one more drink with us, then left. Paul and I said nothing more about Johnny Madrid then, with Lars there, but I had no doubt that Paul knew exactly what was going through my mind that evening. After twenty-six years of friendship, he knew me almost as well as I knew myself.
I don't know how far Joe got with his Mexican contacts; it was only a month later that he and two of his vaqueros were found dead on the road to Joe's ranch, their bodies riddled with bullets. Three weeks after that Pardee made his attempt to do the same to Paul and me, with almost the same success.