by Lee Lejeune
Jacob smiled but kept his eyes firmly on the other man. In his experience you could always tell by a man’s eyes when he was about to draw.
‘Well, sir, I carry a gun because I’ve met a lot of strange customers since I came out West and you’re never sure how a man will react, are you?’
‘That is so,’ the man agreed. ‘And that’s why I’m here, too.’
Jacob pointed his Peacemaker directly at the waddy. ‘In which case,’ he said, ‘maybe you’ll be kind enough to drop that Remington in case I have to shoot you.’
The man’s eyes widened, and for a moment he hesitated. He looked straight into the barrel of Jacob’s gun and Jacob gave a slight gesture to indicate that indeed he might shoot him. Then the man lowered his gun and let it drop. ‘What do you want with me, sir?’ he asked.
‘Well, first of all you can dismount and answer a few questions.’
The man hesitated for moment, then dismounted and made to retrieve his gun.
‘Don’t even think about it,’ Jacob said.
Jacob looked at Running Deer, and Running Deer dismounted and picked up the man’s gun and stuck it through his belt.
‘What are the questions?’ the man asked.
Jacob paused. ‘Now I want you to understand this,’ he said. ‘If you play this off the top of the pack you might live another day or two. If you fool around with us you most likely will not. Do I make myself clear?’
‘You make yourself good and clear,’ the man said evenly.
‘Well now,’ Jacob said, ‘the questions are, first, why are you up here on the bluff standing in our way? And where are Stringer and Jack Davidson?’
The man went slightly pale under his tan. ‘I can’t answer that.’
‘Well now,’ Jacob said. ‘Let me take a guess. You’re a simple cowpoke, but you have ambitions. Would that be true?’
The man grinned. ‘Well, yes, sir, I do have ambitions.’
Jacob nodded. ‘A man doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life riding herd, does he?’
The cowpoke grinned at him. ‘I don’t want a difference of opinion with you, sir. Leastways not while you’ve got a gun pointed directly at me. The answer to your question is I don’t know where the boss is. He could be anywhere between here and Amarillo.’
Jacob nodded, ‘But you do know where Stringer is?’
The man looked somewhat doubtful. ‘Stringer isn’t a man to be crossed. He’s quick with a gun and he’s got a bite like a rattlesnake.’
Jacob nodded. ‘I guess that’s so.’ He smiled at the man. ‘Did you happen to come across Wolf and a man called Killop in your travels?’
The man’s eyes narrowed. ‘Sure. They were part of the Davidson outfit.’
‘Well, you might be interested to know that Wolf is lying dead by a creek somewhere between here and town and he’s not a pretty sight, what with the coyotes and the buzzards chewing away at his body. And Killop is languishing in jail waiting to testify against Stringer and Jack Davidson for murder.’
The man turned a shade paler. ‘I don’t know anything about that,’ he said.
Jacob was grinning. ‘So maybe you’d be kind enough to tell us where Stringer is right now?’
The man looked to his right where they had guessed Stringer would be. ‘He’s down there waiting for you.’
Running Deer spoke up. ‘Is he alone?’
The man shook his head. ‘There’s a couple of the boys with him. But they’re just obeying orders. They don’t know what this is about.’
‘Well, I guess they don’t read the news-sheets.’ Jacob told him in some detail about the murder of the two innocents. ‘So we’ve come to arrest Stringer and take him back to town on trial for murder.’
A look of amazement appeared on the waddy’s face. ‘I didn’t know a thing about that.’
‘Well, now you do. The question is, will you help us, or won’t you?’ Jacob asked him.
The waddy shook his head. ‘How do I know you’re on the level?’
‘Well, I can’t show you my badge of office. Sheriff Olsen got shot back there and he took his badge with him. He’s probably been killed, but we don’t know yet. Maybe you were with Stringer when the shot was fired. You might even have fired it yourself.’
‘Well, I didn’t fire the shot because I wasn’t there,’ the man said.
Jacob glanced at Running Deer and Running Deer’s expression said, ‘This man’s lying through his teeth.’
‘OK,’ Jacob said. ‘Now you’re going to lead the way down to where Stringer’s hiding out waiting to gun down on us, and if you make a good job of it, you might live to fight another day. If not, who knows? You hear me?’
‘I hear you loud and clear,’ the man said.
They mounted up and rode down to where they figured Stringer was waiting. It was impossible to conceal themselves since there was scarcely any ground cover, just scree and rocks and the occasional stunted shrub.
‘What do you expect me to do?’ the waddy asked Jacob.
‘Just keep going till I say stop,’ Jacob told him.
They started riding down the incline. Then they heard a voice from below. ‘Is that you, Bowdene?’
‘That’s Stringer,’ Bowdene said. ‘What do I say to him?’
‘Just tell him we’re coming to get him,’ Jacob said.
Bowdene opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. It was too late, anyway. Suddenly from below Stringer appeared and he was fan palming his gun. Bullets flew in quick succession all round the approaching group.
Jacob flung himself from his horse and the other two followed.
‘My gawd!’ Bowdene exclaimed, ‘He’s set to kill us all.’
Stringer suddenly stopped firing. Fan palming uses a lot of ammunition but you’re lucky if you hit anyone. Stringer was now either drawing another gun or pausing to reload.
Jacob sprang up from the ground and ran forward until he was just a few yards from where Stringer was crouching. As he ran he saw two men scrambling down the scree away from the action. He stopped and levelled his gun, but before he could bring it to bear, Stringer raised his weapon and hurled it straight at Jacob’s face. It struck Jacob on the jaw and he fell back, firing the Peacemaker into the air. The bullet went wide and Jacob lay prostrate, shaking his head and trying to roll away. Through the mist in his head Jacob heard an insistent voice telling him if he didn’t move fast he’d be a dead man.
When he opened his eyes again, he saw a face peering down at him. For a moment he wondered who it could be, but then his eyes came into focus and he recognized Bowdene. What the hell’s happening here? he thought.
‘Lie still,’ Bowdene said. ‘Wait till you get yourself together, man.’
Jacob sat up and worked his jaw. It felt as though it had been hit by a locomotive in full steam.
‘Take it easy,’ Bowdene said. ‘At least you’re alive, man.’
Jacob heard shots. ‘Who’s shooting?’ he tried to ask but his voice came out in a muffled croak.
‘It’s that Injun friend of yours. He’s shooting at Stringer.’
Jacob swung round and looked below and saw Running Deer kneeling close by and firing at several retreating figures below. ‘What the hell’s going on here?’ he managed to croak out.
Bowdene gave a low growl of mirth. ‘My buddies are making a tactical retreat,’ he said. ‘And Stringer is running for his horse. Pity your friend is such a bad shot.’
Jacob squinted at him. ‘How come you’ve suddenly become so damned friendly?’
Bowdene shrugged. ‘You told me I should play my cards off the top of the pack, and that was good advice. And, by the way, here’s your gun, and don’t worry, I won’t shoot you. But after Stringer tried to kill us all I figured it was time to act in the cause of righteousness.’
Jacob took his gun and cocked it, but he didn’t fire. Stringer was already on his horse, picking his way among the rocks to the plain below, and the other two were well ahead on their horses.<
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‘Don’t waste your bullets,’ Bowdene advised. ‘Stringer has a damned fine horse and he’ll be down in the flat country before you can say “gig up, boy”.’
Running Deer was running back for his horse. He paused and looked at Jacob, who was somewhat unsteady on his feet. ‘You look like you’ve been hit by a rock.’
Bowdene bent down and picked up Stringer’s gun. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘Like I thought it isn’t loaded. D’you figure you’re jaw’s out of joint?’
Jacob worked his jaw and winced. ‘I guess it will do for now.’
‘Well, my friend,’ Bowdene, said ‘you look like you’ve been hit by the heavyweight champion of the world. The ladies won’t find you too attractive ’til it heals. Tell you the truth, you look like Big Foot, though I haven’t seen that ugly beast myself.’
Running Deer didn’t look amused. ’You want me to tie up your face with a bandanna, help you heal ?’
Jacob shook his head a little. ‘Just bring my horse and I’ll mount up. We’ve got to catch up on Stringer before he does any more damage to the world.’
Bowdene gave a sceptical grin. ’There’s no way we’re gonna catch up on Stringer. He could be half way to Texas by now.’
‘That’s what I’m afraid off,’ Jacob said. He mounted up, and the other two did likewise.
‘Well, that hombre sure has grit,’ Bowdene said to Running Deer.
‘You better believe it,’ Running Deer replied.
Bowdene chuckled.
Jacob rode down through the high country towards the plain. He could still see the three riders well ahead below him, but he realized he had no chance of catching them up. He felt like hell, but as soon as he got into the saddle his head began to clear. He reined in and turned to Running Deer. ‘I figure Bowdene’s right. We’re riding in the wrong direction. Stringer can wait. However deadly he might be, we have to catch the big fish.’
‘So what do you aim to do?’ Running Deer asked.
‘I’m going to turn my horse and head straight back to the ranch. I guess I’ve been stupid. I need to know what’s happening to Marie and Old Sam.’
‘Well, that sounds like good thinking to me,’ Running Deer agreed.
As they were turning their horses, Bowdene stopped and asked, ‘Where do I fit in here?’
Running Deer and Jacob exchanged glances. ‘Well, Mr Bowdene,’ Jacob said, ‘you don’t fit in anywhere. So what I suggest is this: you turn your horse and ride anywhere you want and do your best to fulfil those ambitions sprouting in your head, and water them good to make them grow strong. But don’t come back in case I have to shoot you.’
Bowdene grinned and nodded. ‘Well, thanks for that. I appreciate it.’
Merriweather turned to Running Deer. ‘Why don’t you give the man his gun, my friend?’
Running Deer took the Remington from his belt and shucked out the shells and handed it over to Bowdene.
Still grinning, Bowdene took the Remingon and slid it into its holster and said, ‘Adios, amigos. Nice doing business with you.’ Then he turned and rode away to the west.
‘You figure we can trust him?’ Running Deer said.
Jacob nodded. ‘Trust every man,’ he said, ‘but keep your back to the wall in case he takes a pop at you. I can think of two well-known gunslingers who didn’t live to learn that important lesson. That’s why I’m going to keep my eyes at the back of my head as we ride back to the ranch house to confront that big rancher Jack Davidson.’
They rode through the cottonwoods towards the ranch house without seeing a single soul.
‘I just hope our two friends are OK,’ Running Deer said.
They emerged from the belt of cottonwoods. The ranch house looked surprisingly tranquil with Davidson’s thoroughbred horses chewing contentedly in the corral and grey smoke spiralling up from the chimney as though time would last for ever and a day. But there was no sign of Old Sam or Marie or their mounts.
‘What to we do now?’ Running Deer asked.
‘Only one thing to do: we ride down and inquire,’ Jacob said.
They rode under the arch with the steer horns and on towards the house. As they drew close, the door opened and a man appeared. He was dressed in a fine suit of well spun wool and his thumbs were hooked into a fancy vest rather like Jacob’s namesake’s coat of many colours. Though he had little hair on his head and was somewhat portly, he looked like a rather over-pampered forty-year-old schoolboy with a superior glint in his eye.
‘That’s Jack Davidson,’ Running Deer muttered quietly.
Jacob steadied himself in the saddle. ‘Good day to you, sir,’ he greeted in as plummy a voice as he could manage. ‘I wonder if you can tell me whether you’ve seen our two friends?’
Davidson gave a charming but artificial smile, rather like the fixed grin on the face of a gargoyle. ‘Well, good sir, I haven’t seen anyone in the last hour, but my maid did mention there were four callers earlier, or maybe it was five, but since I rode back I haven’t seen a single soul. So sorry to disappoint you, gentlemen.’
With that he turned away and was about to close the door when he had a sudden change of mind and turned back. ‘You must have ridden a long way, gentlemen. Perhaps you’d care to come in and take some refreshment?’ He looked directly at Jacob. ‘If you don’t mind me saying so, good sir, your face looks in real bad shape, like you’ve been hit by a locomotive.’
Jacob did his best to smile. ‘Well, good sir. I do believe we will accept your generous offer.’
Davidson gave a stiff bow. ‘Then please step inside and I’ll have one of my men corral your horses so they can rest up. They do look a little tuckered out.’ He gave a somewhat sinister chuckle and stepped aside to admit them.
Jacob looked at Running Deer and gave him an encouraging nod. Running Deer raised an eyebrow and followed him in.
They found themselves in a large room, which reminded Jacob of a fancy palace in a vulgar fairy tale. There were large glass chandeliers suspended from the ceiling, and a welcoming fire burning on the hearth, which was a luxury on such a warm day.
Davidson gestured towards the fire. ‘Please be seated, gentlemen. I would have been happy to invite you to dinner, but it’s a little too early. So we’ll have to be content with some of our home brew and a few biscuits baked on the premises.’
‘Well, thank you, sir,’ Jacob looked at Running Deer and they both sat down in soft seats beside the fire. Running Deer looked a little like a fish stranded in an unfamiliar pool.
Davidson rang a bell and a man in livery entered by a distant door, holding a tray laden with biscuits and fancy glasses, and a bottle of liquor that didn’t look like home brew at all!
Jacob glanced at the servant and thought he looked more like a domesticated thug than a servant, and he had a suspicious-looking bulge under his jacket. The servant gave him a quick glance, but it wasn’t quite quick enough. Jacob had drawn his gun and pointed it directly at Jack Davidson. ‘Well, now, Mr Davidson, I think it’s time to get down to business. If you’ll be kind enough to ask your servant to hold up his hands, my friend here will relieve him of that gun he has concealed in his shoulder holster. Otherwise somebody’s likely to have a serious accident.’
Davidson scarcely batted an eyelid. Then he nodded at the servant. ‘Do as the gentleman says, Arnold.’
Arnold raised his hands and Running Deer reached under his arm and relieved him of his Smith & Wesson revolver.
Davidson was still grinning. ‘Is this highway robbery?’ he asked.
‘No,’ Jacob replied. ‘It’s just part of the business in hand.’
Davidson was still holding his glass. ‘Then may I enquire about the nature of your business?’
Jacob stood up from the table but kept his Peacemaker levelled on Jack Davidson. ‘The business in hand is I’m arresting you for the murder of two innocent young people by the name of Beth and Stan Salinger on a smallholding between here and town a few weeks back.’
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bsp; Daivdson’s jaw tightened, but he continued to grin. ‘Well, I read about that in the news-sheet but I think you’ve got the wrong idea. I never killed a man or woman in my life.’
‘You didn’t need to,’ Running Deer interjected. ‘You hired four gunmen to do your dirty work for you.’
‘Well, that’s an interesting theory,’ Davidson said, ‘but who might these gunmen be, assuming they exist?’
Jacob chuckled. ‘Well, they did exist, Mr Davidson, but one of them by the name of Wolf is being eaten by the coyotes right now, and a big guy I never caught the name of is lying in the funeral parlour back in town waiting to be put into the ground.’
Davidson nodded. ‘I’m sure sorry to hear about that. Those two rowdy characters did work for me for a time, but I had to let them go. Pity they got themselves killed.’
‘What about Stringer?’ Jacob asked him.
‘What about Stringer?’ Davidson actually turned a little paler under his tan.
‘Well, if you’d been listening hard an hour or so back you might have heard the sound of gunfire. That was when your man Stringer took a pop at us. Unfortunately, he hit the wrong man in the shape of Sheriff Olsen.’
‘Olsen!’ Davidson said in some surprise.
‘That’s right – Olsen,’ Jacob repeated. ‘Indeed, he would be here to arrest you himself, but unfortunately his horse bolted and we don’t know whether he’s dead or alive.’
Davidson’s eyes slid towards his manservant, but for a moment he said nothing. Jacob could see his mind ticking over somewhat faster, but Davidson continued to grin. Then he spoke again. ‘This is a whole pack of lies you’re telling me!’ he snarled. ‘What right have you to come into a gentleman’s home and threaten him and make such preposterous allegations?’
Jacob shrugged. ‘Well, they may be preposterous, sir, and you’ll have a chance to prove that in court. So I hope you have a good lawyer.’
‘Well, I sure do!’ Davidson declared. ‘And I tell you this. If this ever comes to court, you’ll be the ones in jail, not me.’
‘Well,’ Jacob said, ‘now we’ve got that sorted out, there are only two things to do.’
