The Bounty Hunters, page 13
“What I am is my business,” he said. “This don’t concern you. Keep out of it.”
“We might do that,” the gray-whiskered man said, “if you was a real lawman, working inside the law. But you ain’t, and that makes both of you fair game the way I see it. You can hand Travis over to us now and ride out or we may just decide to come after you and take him.”
“I’m riding out and Travis is going with me,” Colman said. “If you come after me I’ll give him a gun and put him between us. Have you heard how he can shoot?”
Some of the men looked worried. But the gray-whiskered man nodded calmly, showing no expression. “I’ve heard,” he said. “But like my friend here said, five thousand dollars is a lot of money. And Grayson would rather pay it out to us than to a bounty hunter.”
Colman knew that further talk would not only be a waste of time, but might precipitate an immediate showdown, which he did not want. He might get two or three of them, but they would certainly get him. On the other hand, if he and Travis managed to get out of town there was a chance they could escape any pursuers. And once the gray-whiskered man and his trashy looking pals had time to think it over they might decide not to follow.
Colman’s hard stare held the group a moment longer, as clear a warning as a verbal threat. Then he pushed Travis out through the swing doors and they mounted up in silence. They rode slowly down the street, looking back at the saloon. No one came out of it as long as they were in sight.
On the edge of town they put their horses into a lope and pounded north on the stage and wagon road that was still slushy from recent rain and snow. The forested hills on either side were spotted with snow that had not yet melted. The snow gleamed in the sun and was painful to the eyes.
“You know who that fellow with the gray whiskers was, Travis?” Colman asked. “If I ain’t mistaken that was Rube Ankers. I saw a poster on him two or three years back. I don’t know whether he’s served his time or not. If he has he got a mighty light sentence. I never went after him because he was only worth five hundred and there’s always a tough bunch with him. He should be worth a lot more than that, but he usually lets his men pull the job while he stays back in town where everyone can see him. Then he goes out with the posse and leads them off on the wrong trail every chance he gets. He’s a pretty smart hombre.”
“So you leave dangerous criminals like him alone and pick on honest men like me,” Travis said, with a faint ironic smile.
“This is the first time,” Colman said. “Honest men usually ain’t worth five thousand dollars. If they were I might do it more often.”
“Grayson’s worth twice that much,” Travis said. “Why don’t you go after him and leave me alone?”
“It comes back to what you said a minute ago, Travis,” Colman said heavily. “About dangerous criminals. Grayson is the most dangerous criminal I know of. And he wouldn’t just take my horse or clout me over the head the way you did. He’d put some lead in me.”
“Maybe I will the next time,” Travis said.
“There ain’t going to be a next time,” Colman told him. “Let’s turn off on this side trail up here.”
“I don’t think it leads anywhere.”
“That don’t matter. We’ll make our own trail.” Colman grimaced. “No way to avoid it in this damn snow. They won’t have much trouble following us. You better not get balky on me now, Travis. Not unless you want to trade me for that bunch.”
“I’ll just stick with you,” Travis said.
Colman gave him a sardonic look. “That’s what I figured. They’d just chop off your head and take it to Grayson in a sack. No way he could mistake such a lovely head of hair. That hair should be on a woman, Travis.”
“I wish it was,” Travis said. “It’s caused me a lot of trouble.”
They turned west through the mountain passes and rode as fast as the snow and the condition of their tired horses would permit. All that day and the next Colman kept a sharp watch on their back trail but saw no sign of pursuit.
“Maybe they decided it would be easier to rob a bank than to go up against a tough man like you,” Travis said with a wry smile.
“No, it’s you they’re afraid of,” Colman said, mock-serious. “That’s why I told them I’d give you a gun and aim you at them if they followed us. They’re probably still back there pouring in liquid courage and trying to figure out whether any of them would live to collect that five thousand from Grayson.”
“What do you think?” Travis asked.
“I’m betting on you, Travis.”
“What makes you so sure I won’t turn the gun on you and then take my chances with them?”
“Because you need me,” Colman said. “Even you ain’t good enough to get me and them too.”
“Why not,” Travis said. “There’s only six of them and one of you.”
Colman studied the blond man in silence for a long moment. Then he looked ahead and said, “A long time ago, Travis, I went to one of those houses in St. Louis and paid for one of them fancy women. I was a lot younger then and thought I wanted to try everything once. That woman must have taken a bath in cheap perfume, because I kept smelling it after I left there. I didn’t mind it for a while, but I soon got tired of it. I kept trying to wash it off but I couldn’t. That damn perfume nearly drove me crazy before the scent finally wore off.”
“What made you think of it?” Travis asked.
“Your sense of humor is a lot like that perfume, Travis. I didn’t mind it at first, but I’m getting tired of it already. I suggest you save it for Grayson. Maybe he’ll know how to appreciate it.”
“What makes you think I was joking?” Travis asked.
“I think that’s what I don’t like about you,” Colman said. “I can never tell whether you’re joking or not.”
“I guess that’s a good enough reason not to like me,” Travis said. “But it’s not much of a reason to turn me over to Grayson.”
“Oh, I’m not going to turn you over to Grayson because I don’t like you, Travis,” Colman said. “I’m doing that for the money.”
“I don’t think so,” Travis said after a moment. “There are easier ways to get money.”
“Why don’t you try telling them that?” Colman said, looking back over his shoulder.
Travis turned his head and saw the six riders coming after them at a gallop.
Colman was looking quickly about. They were on the slope of a barren, rocky hill streaked with snow. The riders were coming out of the timber on the other side of a narrow valley where the snow was deeper. The distance between them was still a little over three hundred yards, but one of the riders began firing with a Winchester. The bullets raked the snow on the hill and scraped dust from rocks.
“Hit the dirt, Travis,” Colman said. “We’ll never find a better place to make a stand. And we’ll only kill our horses trying to outrun them.”
Travis grabbed the saddle horn with his bound hands and swung to the ground while his horse was still in motion. He dropped behind a rock and faced the oncoming riders, now crossing the open valley. Colman was suddenly beside him grabbing his arm and slicing the rope that bound his wrists. Colman thrust a revolver in his hand, put another one on the rock beside him and stepped quickly back with a cocked pistol in his own hand and a warning in his hard black eyes.
“You still got them cartridges in your coat pocket, Travis?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s good. Your shell belt’s in your saddlebag on that horse up there.”
Colman grabbed his Winchester and took up a position at a rock a little behind Travis and to one side.
“Now let’s see some of that fancy shooting, Travis.”
Travis checked the open-top Colt and the Smith & Wesson Russian, then laid the Russian Model back on the rock in front of him. Then he watched the riders and waited until the range was right.
Colman began firing his Winchester and killed one horse and one rider as the bunch crossed the valley. Then the others were coming up the slope, leaping from the backs of their horses to take cover in the rocks. The man whose horse had been shot out from under him also ran for the rocks and made it, Colman’s hasty shot kicking up dirt and snow beside him.
“What are you waiting for, Travis? They’ll soon have us surrounded.”
“I was just thinking,” Travis said. “They may be trying to rescue me. If they are I’d sort of hate to—”
“Travis!” Colman barked. “This ain’t no time for joking. They’ll take your head to Grayson in a gunny sack and leave the rest of you here for the buzzards.”
“In that case,” Travis said, and shot a man who rose up to look over a rock.
“That’s more like it,” Colman said. “I’m glad you’re on my side.”
“For the moment,” Travis said.
Colman fired at a movement down the slope. Then his rifle clicked on an empty chamber. He laid the rifle aside and drew his Colt.
“How many bullets you got, Travis?”
“Enough, I think,” Travis said, watching the rocks off below them. “There’s only four of them left.”
“I can’t figure you, Travis,” Colman said, adding a sixth cartridge in the chamber he normally left empty. “If half a dozen fellows like them down there don’t scare you, why have you been running from Grayson’s men for so long?”
“I didn’t have anything better to do,” Travis said.
“You know something?” Colman said. “I almost believe you.”
“Something I should mention,” Travis said. “You’ve kept my hands tied so long in this cold weather there’s not much feeling in them. I can barely hold a gun. I’m surprised I hit that fellow. Even you could beat me now, Colman. Maybe that’s what you had in mind.”
“That ain’t what I had in mind at all,” Colman said. “I never even thought about it. You should have said something.”
“Would it have done any good?” Travis asked.
“It might have,” Colman said, watching for a target. He was silent for a short time and then said, “While they ain’t rushing us, Travis, maybe we should talk.”
“It’s about time,” Travis said, keeping his attention on the rocks.
“I never intended to hand you over to Grayson any of the time,” Colman said.
“I never thought you did,” Travis said. “That’s why I haven’t tried to get away. Somewhere back there you got it into your head to go after the big man himself. Grayson. But being a known bounty hunter, you knew you’d never get near him unless you had something he wanted pretty bad. He can smell a bounty hunter a mile off. Then you thought about me and decided to use me as bait.”
“So you figured it out,” Colman muttered.
“By now Grayson has probably figured it out too,” Travis said. “Only he thinks we’ve teamed up together to get him. I imagine he’s setting a trap of his own about now. That’s probably why he’s called in his boys.”
“You think so?” Colman asked, not sounding much surprised. The possibility had already occurred to him, too.
“That would be my guess,” Travis said.
“If we can take on Rube Ankers and his boys, we can handle what’s left of the Grayson gang,” Colman said. “There’s only about five of them now, including old Sam himself.”
“Count me out,” Travis said. “I only fight when I have to. I learned a long time ago it doesn’t pay to go looking for trouble.”
“Is that why you went after Billy Primrose and Nita Ramsey?” Colman asked.
“I figured I still owed Chet Ramsey that much,” Travis said. “But I guess it was a mistake.”
“The only mistake was not killing Primrose when you had the chance,” Colman said. “But you’ll be making an even bigger mistake if you don’t get Grayson while he’s short-handed and you’ve got me to help you.”
“I could have got Grayson anytime I wanted to,” Travis said.
“Why didn’t you?” Colman asked.
Just then Rube Ankers called, “Hey, Colman! Let’s talk!”
“Talk!” Colman called back.
“Looks like you give Travis a gun, like you said,” Ankers replied. “Ain’t you afraid he’ll use it on you?”
“Not while I’m behind him. What’s on your mind, Rube?”
There was a little silence, and then Ankers called, “Me and the boys have been talking it over and decided there’s easier ways to make a living. Tell you what. If you promise not to shoot at us, we’ll just get our horses and ride out of here.”
“And maybe try to bushwhack us later?” Colman asked. “I don’t think so. You boys started this fight. Now let’s finish it!”
“Suit yourself!” Rube Ankers retorted. He and his men began firing rapidly. Bullets whined off the rocks near Travis and Colman and whistled overhead. They kept their heads down and the fusillade did no damage. After a minute or so the guns fell silent again.
“Think they’re all reloading?” Colman asked, peering over his rock.
“I wouldn’t want to bet my life on it,” Travis replied. “Too many people have been killed by empty guns.”
There was a small sound off to their left and both Travis and Colman turned toward the sound and fired at almost the same instant. A man in a long ragged black coat and a slouch hat, with eyes so pale they seemed almost white in his bearded face, was standing by a rock leveling a huge revolver at them when the two bullets tore into him. He was turned half around and he fired his gun at the sky as he fell.
“Your hand must be all right now,” Colman observed.
“It must not be,” Travis said. “You nearly beat me to him.”
“I thought I shot first,” Colman said, scowling.
“Not quite.”
“I don’t usually brag about it, Travis, but a lot people seem to think I’m pretty good with a gun. And some of them have reason to know.”
“You must be,” Travis said. “I heard it was hard to hit anything with a double-action gun. I never used one myself.”
“Some people can’t hit anything with any kind of gun,” Colman said. “But they always blame it on the gun. Most people will tell you a gun-fanner can’t hit anything. But I’ve seen a gun-fanner put five slugs in a playing card so fast you couldn’t count the shots, and the card was on a tree a good twenty feet away.”
Down the slope a man bobbed up from behind a rock and then quickly ducked again an instant before both Travis and Colman fired.
While this was happening Rube Ankers and the other man scrambled a few yards up the slope and then took cover again. A moment later those two began firing rapidly to keep Travis and Colman ducking while the first man darted to another rock.
“Looks like they’ve started thinking,” Travis said. “That could be dangerous—for us.”
“They’re trying to flank us,” Colman said. “And most of our ammunition is up there on them horses—I’ll be damned! They’re even farther away than they were. Next they’ll hightail it out of here.”
“Guess the shooting’s making them nervous,” Travis said. “Us too, I think, or we wouldn’t be talking so much.”
“My Winchester’s empty,” Colman said. “How many bullets you got now, Travis?”
“About twenty. And most of them are for the wrong gun. I’ve never used a Smith & Wesson.”
“Then what are you doing with it?” Colman asked.
“What are you doing with that old gun in your belt?” Travis asked.
“Property of the late Coon Hooks,” Colman grunted. “Who did that Smith & Wesson belong to?”
“A fellow who called himself Slim Perkins. He’s still alive, or was the last time I saw him. We may run into him again one of these days.”
A moment later he pointed the long-barreled Colt downslope at a running man and fired twice. The man fell to his knees, then started crawling toward a rock a few yards away. Travis fired again. The man’s arms gave way under him and he hit the ground on his face, then rolled onto his side and lay still.
The gray-whiskered face of Rube Ankers appeared briefly above a rock, squinting over a pistol. The gun roared and smoked and then Ankers ducked from sight again, cussing quietly and bitterly.
“Hey, Bud!” he called. “You gone to sleep? Why didn’t you give him come cover?”
Just then Bud leapt at a startled horse, grabbed the reins and vaulted into the saddle. Bent low over the horse’s neck, he galloped the horse off the slope and across the valley.
“Bud!” Rube Ankers roared. He stood up in full view, flung up his gun and fired. Bud threw up his arms and fell out of the saddle.
Colman thrust the double-action Colt out at arm’s length and fired as rapidly as he could squeeze the trigger. He fired until the gun was empty and at least one of the bullets hit Rube Ankers in the back, low down. He twisted oddly, his head jerked back, his left hand went around toward the wound, and then he fell out of sight behind the rocks.
Colman stood up and began reloading his pistol. “Travis,” he said, “let’s go get Sam Grayson.”
Travis reached for the Smith & Wesson on the rock before him, cocked the gun, raised it and fired.
The bullet hit Rube Ankers between the eyes as he pulled himself back up clutching his gun.
Chapter 16
Two days later Colman rode into a town in western Colorado leading six horses. Tied across the saddle of each horse was the body of a dead man. When he came back he did not have the horses or their grisly burdens. All he had was a newspaper, a sack of groceries and a new sheepskin coat which he handed to Travis.
“It should fit. We’re about the same size.”
Travis tried the coat on. It was the right size. He had asked Colman to get it for him. His duck jacket was a little thin for the time of year and the altitude.
“It cost enough,” Colman grunted. “What do you do when the price is way too high, Travis?”
Travis shrugged. “I usually just smile and pay it.”
“I paid it,” Colman said, “but I didn’t smile.”
