The Bounty Hunters, page 17
Travis sat sipping his coffee and did not seem to be listening.
Colman glanced at the blond man and said, “I guess you know it’s too late to turn back now. If we don’t get Grayson they’ll never stop looking for us.”
“That won’t be anything new for me,” Travis said. “But maybe you should have thought about that before you dealt yourself a hand in this game. It’s a little late to bring it up now.”
“I did think about it,” Colman said. “I thought about it a long time. After your experience with that bunch, I figured I’d better let them alone. Seems like nearly everyone else came to the same conclusion. Lawmen, bounty hunters, just about everyone. But the more I thought about it, the less I liked it. That was why I became a bounty hunter to begin with. I got tired of bastards like him getting away with everything because everyone was afraid to do anything about it. So I finally made up my mind to go after him.”
“I notice you were very careful not to let him know that,” Travis said. “You wanted him to think you were after the bounty on me, not the one on him. If anything went wrong, you didn’t want them on your trail.”
Colman showed his teeth in a hard grin. “You figured that out, did you?”
Travis shrugged. “No use talking about it now, I guess. It looks like we’re both in it to the finish, whatever our reasons.”
“You think we stand any real chance of smoking old Sam out where we can get a shot at him?” Colman asked quietly.
“I don’t know,” Travis said. “I figure he’ll send the others after us first. If they don’t have any luck, he may decide to come after us himself. That’s what I’m hoping.”
“How soon you think they’ll start looking for us?”
“If they’re not out already, they will be at first light.”
Colman sighed, looking wistfully at the fire. “I was hoping you’d say we’d be safe here tonight.”
“We won’t be safe anywhere till this thing’s over,” Travis said, getting to his feet. “Loan me your rifle. I’ll take the first watch. On second thought that shotgun will do fine. It’s too dark to hit anything very far off anyhow.”
Travis took the shotgun and went down the box canyon to its mouth. Colman sat by the fire sipping his coffee. Presently he drew the Merwin & Hulbert from inside his coat and admired its nickel finish and hard-rubber grips. And idea occurred to him and he took from his saddlebag a shell belt and holster that had belonged to one of the Ankers men. The holster was on the left side. He removed the .45 cartridges from the loops and filled them with .44s. Then he buckled the belt on over his other gunbelt and slipped the Merwin & Hulbert into the holster. He still had the Rube Ankers Colt in his waistband and the double-action Colt in his right holster. With three pistols and a fully loaded Winchester he felt ready to stand off an army if need be.
It was near noon the next day. Travis and Colman were in the big canyon, picking their way slowly through boulders and rock outcrops. The hoofs of their horses made almost no sound in the sand, except now and then when a shod hoof struck a rock.
Travis rode in the lead with the shotgun across the pommel, watching carefully ahead. He hoped to spot the outlaws before they saw him and Colman. But he was not prepared for what happened.
Three men suddenly rose from behind the rocks ahead with cocked pistols in their hands and began firing. At the same time others began firing from the rocks on the steep canyon slope. They had ridden into an ambush.
Travis swung the shotgun and filled a man’s face full of buckshot and made the other two duck with the second barrel. Then he and Colman turned their horses and galloped out of there bent low in their saddles, Colman jerking his Winchester from its scabbard. They made it to a mound of rocks and leapt to the ground, diving for cover.
Colman found a spot he liked and went to work with the Winchester, firing at puffs of smoke. Travis reloaded the shotgun with shells from his coat pocket and leaned it against a rock, drawing his Colt. But there was no target close enough to shoot at with a handgun.
He looked carefully about and then said, “We can’t stay here. They’ll soon have us flanked.”
“Who told them we were coming?” Colman asked.
“Guess,” Travis said.
Colman glanced at him. “Duncan?”
Travis nodded. “That’s my guess.”
“He made good time.”
“I guess they were expecting us anyway,” Travis said. He crouched behind his rock, darting a glance at the horses. “Let’s go.”
They ran for the horses and leapt into the saddle as bullets screamed at them like missiles from hell, but falling short or whistling overhead.
They galloped up the canyon in a cloud of dust, and before they had gone far there was another cloud of dust following them.
Chapter 20
Travis and Colman turned up a side canyon that was the main-traveled route from the outlaw hideout to Dry Wells. It was, in fact, the same canyon in which they had been surprised by Grayson’s men early the day before. But that spot was several miles away.
The side canyon was narrow, crooked, strewn with boulders, and brushy along the sides.
“Travis,” Colman said suddenly, “it strikes me that they ain’t the only ones who can set up an ambush.”
“Just what I was thinking,” Travis agreed, as they rounded a sharp bend in the canyon. They reined in close to the canyon wall and swung to the ground, taking cover in some nearby rocks.
They were barely in position when the two riders in the lead charged around the bend into view. Travis raised the shotgun and looked over the twin barrels into Harve Duncan’s surprised face. Their eyes met for just an instant before Travis squeezed both triggers. Duncan, although a heavy man, was swept out of the saddle by the double load of buckshot.
Colman dropped to one knee, threw up his Winchester and shot Pinky Rudd through the chest. Rudd’s mouth fell open in surprise. His horse leapt to one side and Pinky fell off on the other.
The other outlaws had been a good twenty yards behind Rudd and Duncan and despite some confusion and near pile-ups they got their excited horses turned around and galloped back down the canyon. Colman managed to nick the last rider but he hung on and his horse soon carried him to safety.
“Hell, let’s go after the bastards!” Colman said excitedly.
“And ride into another ambush?” Travis shook his head, already running for the horses. “Let’s make them come after us again. It’s safer.”
“How many’s left now?” Colman asked as they mounted up.
“About half a dozen, counting the cripples.”
“No use to count them,” Colman said. “They’ll be out of commission for a while.”
“I imagine Grayson will find some use for them,” Travis said. “Standing guard, probably.”
“I didn’t see Biggers. Did you?”
“I don’t think he was with them. I guess Pinky Rudd was leading that pack.”
“Well, he won’t lead any more packs,” Colman said.
‘”No, but we may wish he would, when Vince Biggers takes over his job.”
“I never saw a fat man yet who was any good for anything.”
“Biggers isn’t fat. He’s just big. And he uses his head. That’s what makes him dangerous.”
When the canyon straightened out for a stretch they halted to look back. There was no sign of pursuit.
“I bet they’re hightailing it for the hideout,” Colman said. “We should have gone after them. I’d like to finish this business the quickest way we can.”
“I’d like to finish it alive,” Travis said. “Let’s find a good spot up in the hills and make them come after us.”
Colman looked at him thoughtfully. “A spot like we had when we took on the Ankers gang?”
Travis nodded. “That’s sort of what I had in mind. But we’ll have to leave a trail they can follow, or we’ll sit there and freeze to death.”
“It’s going to be cold as hell tonight,” Colman said. “I hope they come before then.”
They soon found a spot where the bank was not too steep to climb and here they left the canyon and followed a faint trail through the badlands. As the afternoon wore on the wind grew stronger and colder, its icy breath blowing at them out of the north. Colman looked at the sky and darkly predicted snow. But Travis, glancing at the same sky, saw no warning of snow. Without a doubt, however, they were in for a bitter cold night. And it did not help matters to think that the outlaws would probably be keeping warm by a big fire in the old stone house up on the mesa. Vince Biggers was a man who liked his comfort and neither pleas nor threats from Grayson would get him in the saddle much before sunup.
The sun was still two hours high when Travis and Colman found the sort of place they had in mind—a bleak, barren hill covered with boulders and dotted here and there with small cedars. On the far side of the hill there was a good spot for a night camp, under an overhanging rock outcrop at the head of a ravine. It was actually a sort of box canyon—in which it would not do to get trapped. But precautions could be taken against that contingency.
“Who takes the first watch?” Colman asked bleakly, pulling the collar of his bearskin coat even higher.
“I can,” Travis said. “But there’s no hurry. It’s not even dark yet.”
“Hell, they could be right behind us,” Colman grunted.
“Hoping won’t bring them here any sooner,” Travis said. “We might as well get ready for a long cold night.”
And a long cold night it was. But after what seemed an eternity in a frozen hell the night finally ended. The sun rose and climbed slowly up the eastern sky, shedding a little warmth on the rocks and the men waiting behind them. The guns were not quite as cold to the touch.
“I’ve been doing some thinking,” Colman said finally. “I didn’t see but two men riding back down that canyon. I figured there were some more back around the bend that I didn’t see. But if Vince Biggers and them two cripples weren’t with them, then there couldn’t have been more than the two we saw. Jud Yetman and Aaron Roop. You blasted Les Kerner’s brains out with buckshot back in that big canyon.”
“There weren’t but two,” Travis said.
“That’s what I thought,” Colman said. He chewed a dead cigar for a moment and then looked at Travis with hard eyes and asked, “You mean to tell me we ran from just two men? While they were running the other way at that?”
Travis looked embarrassed. “I knew Biggers would never come after us alone,” he said. “And I’d like to get him off that mesa.”
“So that’s it,” Colman said. “If Vince and them two come after us and we get them, then what happens? Grayson will still be up there on that mesa with that woman. He sure as hell ain’t going to come after us with just them two cripples, who can’t even use a gun unless they can shoot left-handed.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Travis said. “Grayson will send them after us if he can. He wants me pretty bad. But by now he probably knows they may not come back. He knows we may come in their place.”
“And he’ll be waiting to push rocks down on us?” Colman asked.
For a moment it seemed as if Travis might smile. But the smile never quite reached the surface. It would have been a very bleak smile, in any case. “I don’t think he’ll be waiting for us at all,” he said. “I think he’ll pull out. He may be gone already.”
Colman got instantly to his feet. “Then let’s go after the bastard. The hell with the others.”
After a moment Travis said, “I was thinking about going by myself. If you think you can handle the others.”
Colman glanced about the rock-strewn hill. “I think I could here,” he said.
“You think you could get by without your rifle?” Travis asked. “I may not need it, but on the other hand I may not be able to get close to Grayson without him using Lorna Mason for a shield.”
Colman shrugged. “Take it.” He showed his teeth in a hard grin. “Hell, there’s only three of them, unless they bring them cripples along.”
Travis nodded. “I’ll leave the shotgun with you. I won’t need it.”
“There’s nearly half a box of Winchester cartridges in my saddlebag,” Colman said.
“I won’t need them,” Travis said. “You keep them for that Merwin & Hulbert. If you can hold them off long enough I may get back in time to give you a hand.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Colman said. “Just get Grayson.”
Travis had been gone an hour, circling to avoid the back trail, when Vince Biggers, Jud Yetman, and the black-bearded Roop rode into view and slowly approached the hill where Colman lay waiting in the rocks near the top.
As he had feared, they halted beyond pistol range and consulted for a few moments. Then Jud Yetman rode on up the slope alone while the other two waited, scanning the rocks. With a rifle Colman could have put a bullet in Vince Biggers’s big gut, then shot Yetman and perhaps even got Roop. But without a rifle it was only a tantalizing, forlorn wish.
He stood the shotgun against a rock and drew the single-action Colt from his waistband, quietly cocking it. Squatting behind a stunted cedar, he aimed the pistol at Jud Yetman’s blanket coat and followed his slow, cautious progress up the slope. Like many gunfighters, good and bad, Yetman had pale blue eyes and they were narrowed against the sunlight as he studied the boulder-strewn, cedar-dotted slope. When Yetman was close enough for Colman to see the cleft in his chin, the bounty hunter slowly squeezed the trigger.
The gun bucked in his fist and gave a startling bellow. Yetman swayed in the saddle, grabbed the horn, whirled his horse around and thundered back down the slope. Colman stood up and thumbed two more shots at him, both missing, and Yetman made it to the rocks where Vince Biggers and Aaron Roop had hastily taken cover.
Colman cussed softly and replaced the empties in the single-action Colt, then thrust it back in his waistband. He reached for the shotgun and crawled through the rocks to a new position twenty feet away. He did not want to be where they thought he was if he could help it. A cold smile crossed his face when they began firing at the cedar where he had been only moments before. Yetman must have told them where the shot had come from. Then, if he had any consideration, he had cashed in his chips. But the way Colman’s luck seemed to be going the bastard was probably still alive, down there fighting alongside Biggers and Roop.
Travis rode around a bend in the side canyon and almost rode into Raff Petty and Slim Perkins, who were as surprised as he was. Petty’s face twisted with hatred at sight of him and he dropped the reins and grabbed for a gun with his left hand. Travis calmly shot him out of the saddle and pointed the long-barreled Colt at Slim Perkins, who raised his left hand in alarm. His right arm was in a sling.
“Don’t shoot, Travis!” Perkins said. “I ain’t got no quarrel with you. Grayson told us to wait up there for you, but we decided to leave and get our wounds doctored before infection sets in. Petty said he hoped we ran into you. Well, it looks like he got his wish. But I don’t think it was what he wanted.”
“Where’s Grayson?” Travis asked.
Perkins passed his good hand across his eyes. “He took out with that woman. He figgers them others won’t git back alive.”
“Which way did he go?”
“When we got to that big canyon back there we saw their tracks headin’ south.”
Travis hesitated, watching Perkins out of cold eyes. “You better not waste any time, Slim. After I get Grayson I may decide to come after you.”
The alarm was back in Perkins’s eyes. “I aim to leave the country just as fast as I can,” he said.
“You do that,” Travis said and rode by Perkins heading for the big canyon to pick up Grayson’s trail.
Colman took off his bearskin overcoat and arranged it on the ground behind a cedar. Then he fired through the cedar at a movement down below. When they returned his fire he thudded to the ground and thrashed around like a man in mortal agony, then crawled off a piece and said hoarsely, “You hit? Hey, you all right?” There was, of course, no answer, and down below they were keeping mighty quiet, listening. Colman could almost see them smiling. He smiled also, and wormed his way through the rocks to a new position.
Then he threw a pebble over the crest of the hill. It made a small racket on the back slope, and seemed to have the desired effect. Peering down the hill, he saw both Vince Biggers and Aaron Roop rise up into view, about twenty yards apart. Biggers made a motion with his gun. The black-bearded Roop silently nodded and circled the hillside in a lope, making almost no sound. Biggers began circling around the other way, moving more slowly and ponderously.
Colman kept his attention on the long-legged Roop, who was leaping through the rocks like a mountain goat. Colman cocked both hammers of the shotgun and fired before Roop had time to dive for cover.
Roop was blown staggering back, and before he finished his fall Colman had grabbed a revolver and got off a shot at Biggers. But for so big a man Biggers could move quickly and he dropped safely behind a rock, although Colman’s bullet took his hat off.
“You must be the bounty hunter,” Biggers called. He sounded like a man trying to catch his breath. “If Travis is dead there ain’t no point in me and you killing each other. He’s the one we wanted.”
“How about Yetman?” Colman asked, feeling his pockets for shotgun shells, then remembering he did not have any. Travis had forgotten to leave them. Colman laid the shotgun aside and drew the single-action Colt from his waistband. Then, with a pistol in each hand, he waited, listening.
Biggers took his time about answering. He had at least two pistols and seemed to be reloading one of them. “He was still alive when we left him down there. But I don’t think he’ll make it.” When the big outlaw spoke again, after a little silence, it sounded like he might be smiling. It also sounded like he might have moved slightly to his left, but Colman could not be sure. “I never figgered you boys would haul off and plug him like that, without no warning or nothing. I thought only bad guys like us did such things.”
