Iron Eyes Must Die

by Rory Black

  ‘We was carrying a mail-bag.’ Snape said.

  ‘That could be it.’ The marshal sighed. ‘A parcel or a letter with something in it that was worth risking holding up a train for. Whatever it was, it was important.’

  The engineer mopped his sweating brow with an oily rag and shook his head.

  ‘I’m getting too old to be held up like this, Marshal. This is the third time since Easter.’

  ‘Which way were they headed, do ya figure?’ Josh Walker asked. He hung the canteens on the saddle horns of the three mounts.

  Snape pointed along the tracks.

  ‘They was down near the canyon trail when we headed out.’

  ‘How far is it to the canyon exactly?’ Layne asked, turning to look along the gleaming steel tracks.

  ‘Five or ten miles, I guess,’ the engineer answered. He was getting more and more flustered. ‘I’m not sure, Marshal. I ain’t never measured it. I just got this old loco moving as fast as I could when that Snake critter told me we could go. I wasn’t hanging around for him to change his mind.’

  ‘A train hold-up, Marshal.’ Donner nodded. He picked his hat up off the dusty ground when his horse had finished drinking from its bowl. ‘I figured that was what them varmints was gonna do.’

  ‘Yeah?’ Walker grinned.

  ‘Sure I did, Josh.’

  Layne gave both men a hard stare. They both stopped talking and mounted their horses.

  ‘Where does that canyon lead to, friend?’ the marshal asked the nervous engineer.

  ‘I ain’t too sure,’ Snape admitted. He looked past the horses at the conductor and waved a hand. ‘You got any idea where that canyon leads to, Harv?’

  ‘The one where them outlaws was?’

  ‘Yep. That one.’

  ‘The Mexican border.’

  ‘Nothing else?’

  ‘Rio Concho I reckon.’ The conductor shrugged. ‘I think that the town is just south of the canyon mouth. Mind you, I might be wrong.’

  Layne touched the brim of his hat to both men and gathered up his reins.

  ‘You boys have bin real helpful.’

  ‘Glad to help.’ The conductor smiled.

  ‘You gonna take on that gang, Marshal?’ Herb Snape swallowed hard.

  ‘You really gonna?’

  Layne stepped into his stirrup and mounted his horse.

  ‘Gonna try, friend.’

  Snape wiped his brow again.

  ‘I wish ya luck, Marshal. Ya gonna need an awful lot of it.’

  Marshal Layne smiled and turned his horse.

  ‘Thanks for the water and the grub.’

  ‘Ya welcome.’ The engineer climbed back up the side of his locomotive until he was on the footplate.

  Layne looked at the two men beside him.

  ‘They’re close, boys! Closer than we thought they were.’

  Donner felt his throat tighten beneath his bandanna as he steadied his refreshed mount alongside his two companions. He was nervous and it showed.

  ‘Do ya reckon we’ll catch these varmints before sundown, Marshal?’

  Layne reached across the distance between himself and the deputy. He patted the younger man on the back and winked.

  ‘I sure hope so, Tray. I’d hate for us to end up shootin’ each other rather than Snake and his gang.’

  The relief in Donner’s face was evident.

  ‘I ain’t scared, Marshal. Honest. I just don’t wanna try and take them varmints on in the dark.’

  ‘Me neither,’ Layne admitted. ‘We’ll see how close we can get to them before sunset.’

  ‘Do you figure we got us a chance of getting the better of them critters, Marshal?’ Walker asked, looking at the straight trail of tracks gleaming in the blinding sunlight: a trail that he knew might lead them to their deaths.

  Marshal Casey Layne pulled the brim of his Stetson down to cover his eyes.

  ‘Don’t fret none. Ya both top guns. I’d trust you boys at my side facing anyone in a showdown!’ the marshal said. ‘There ain’t no finer law officers anywhere in this darn country than you two. We can take them!’

  The three riders spurred hard and thundered beside the rail tracks towards the distant canyon and into the unknown.

  Chapter Twelve

  A sickening stench drifted into the nostrils of the three riders long before their eyes saw anything through the heat haze. The unnerving noise of countless flies filled the air all around the scene of devastation as they too were drawn to the sun-baked corpses. A half-dozen large black vultures had already located the bodies of Buck Harris and John Parsons long before the three lawmen had reached what was left of the rail-car wreckage. The sharp beaks and talons of the feathered scavengers tore mercilessly at the flesh of the two dead men.

  Marshal Layne drew back on his reins and sat silently watching the horrific spectacle as his loyal deputies rode at the defiant birds and frightened them away.

  Walker and Donner eased themselves off their mounts and stared in disbelief at the sight of what was left of the rail car. The veteran lawman dismounted and led his horse across the debris-littered sand until he was next to his men. There was a look of total shock carved into his face. He looped his reins around a metal handrail hanging from the wreckage where the bodies lay. He had seen many bodies during his life but none quite so pitiful as the two upon the floor of the rail-car.

  ‘What we gonna do, Marshal?’ Josh Walker asked.

  ‘Think.’ Layne answered.

  ‘About what?’ Walker scratched his whiskers.

  Layne did not reply. He turned away from the rail-car and stared at the sand at their feet. He nodded and walked silently towards the canyon walls.

  ‘You got the makings, Tray?’ he asked Donner.

  Tray Donner pulled out his tobacco pouch.

  ‘Sure have, Marshal. But why’d ya ask? You don’t smoke cigarettes.’

  Layne glanced briefly at the deputy.

  ‘Roll me one and light it. I reckon the smoke might keep the stink out of my nose and the flies out of my mouth.’

  Donner did as asked as he trailed the marshal across the sand like a faithful hound trailing its master. He ran his tongue along the gummed edge of the paper and then tucked the cigarette in the corner of his mouth. He ignited a match with his thumbnail, cupped its flame and lit the cigarette. He handed it to Layne.

  Layne put it between his lips and endured the smoke that covered his face. It did keep the swarm of flies away from his mouth, but could not diminish the stomach-churning smell of decaying flesh which filled the entire area.

  ‘Six of them left, Tray,’ the marshal said, pointing at the canyon. ‘They rode off that way. They took the horse belonging to that dead outlaw with them. They weren’t carrying anything heavy.’

  ‘How far could they have gotten down that trail through the canyon, Marshal?’ Walker wondered aloud. ‘Would they make camp down there?’

  ‘They ain’t gonna stop until they get where they’re headed, Josh,’ Layne answered through the cigarette smoke.

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘I got me a feeling that Snake must be headed to that Rio Concho the conductor told us about, boys,’ the marshal said as he kicked at the soft ground. ‘Whatever he took from this train-car must be valuable.’

  ‘I’m kinda confused,’ Donner admitted.

  Layne moved to the pile of envelopes discarded by the outlaw leader. His eyes studied the ground and the boot-prints in the sand. To the lawman, it all told a story. A story that a man who was an expert tracker could read.

  ‘Snake Adams stood by here.’ Layne pointed at the ground. ‘I recognize his boot-prints. Look at the mail he threw away. I think he was after a letter or a legal document. He stood here and read it before headin’ for their horses.’

  Donner looked at the ground.

  ‘Ya can tell that you used to be a hunter, Marshal. I don’t see nothing special.’

  ‘I reckon that those killings back at Waco are all linked to
this hold-up. I should have figured that out sooner. I was hired by real important dudes to catch Snake and his gang.’

  ‘What ya mean, Marshal?’

  ‘The men Snake and his gang slaughtered in Waco were no ordinary folks. They all worked for the government back East. They all had dealings with the railroad owners and one handled very delicate documents for the treasury. They were in Waco on some kinda official business. I ain’t got no proof, but my innards are tellin’ me that this is a lot bigger than any of us realize. I think old Snake got himself some very important information and has acted on it.’

  ‘Ya mean that all these killings and this train hold-up could be for a darn document?’ Donner rubbed his neck. ‘A scrap of paper?’

  ‘Like I said, those dead folks in Waco were officials from back East. Government folks,’ the marshal repeated.

  ‘Seems hard to believe that a scrap of paper could be worth so much, Marshal.’ Donner shook his head.

  ‘Why’d they kill them men in Waco?’ Walker asked.

  ‘Maybe after Snake milked the information out of them fellers, he knew that if he didn’t kill them, they might try to stop that document being put on the train,’ Layne guessed.

  ‘I don’t understand none of this,’ Donner admitted.

  ‘That’s ’cause you’re an honest man, Tray.’ Layne patted the deputy’s shoulder. ‘You ain’t got a devious bone in ya body.’

  Marshal Layne turned and walked back to his horse. He tugged at his reins and freed them before he stepped into his stirrup and hoisted himself back on to the high saddle. His deputies mounted their horses and drew alongside the rider.

  ‘Some documents are worth a lot more than any honest man could ever imagine, boys,’ Layne said, turning the head of his horse away from the bodies. He glanced up at the vultures that were circling over their heads. ‘I reckon the men who hired me wanted us to catch Snake before he got his hands on that piece of paper.’

  ‘We’re a tad late, Marshal,’ Donner remarked.

  ‘Now we gotta catch up with him before he can make use of it, boys!’ Layne nodded. ‘C’mon. Let’s ride!’

  The three riders spurred and drove their mounts into the mouth of the canyon.

  ~*~

  Darkness spread over Rio Concho like a blanket. A million stars sparkled in the black sky like diamonds. The bounty hunter opened the cabin door and rested his tall lean body against the wooden frame. Iron Eyes glanced upward for a fleeting moment and then muttered to the livery man.

  ‘At least there ain’t no moon up there, Hanney. It ought to help me get to where I’m going without being shot again.’

  The livery-stable man pushed his tin plate across the small table and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. He glanced at his whiskey bottle. The tall skeletal figure had drunk half of it during the previous hour or so. Yet it seemed to have little or no effect on Iron Eyes. It was as if he drank the hard liquor to kill the pain that constantly tortured him.

  ‘But there’s a storm brewing, Iron Eyes,’ Hanney warned, pointing from his chair at the distant hills. ‘A real bad storm if I’m any judge.’

  ‘It don’t matter none.’

  ‘I can still hear them varmints looking for ya down there in the middle of town.’ Hanney sighed.

  Iron Eyes turned his face briefly to the smaller man. It was the face of someone who appeared more dead than alive.

  ‘This time they won’t get close, ’cause I know that they ain’t really the law, old-timer.’ Iron Eyes said bluntly. ‘I’ll kill them all this time if need be. I’ll add the bounty on their heads to the other dead outlaws I gunned down yesterday.’

  The bearded man felt uneasy. He stared at the bounty hunter in his long trail coat. It was a coat that bore the evidence of countless battles on its bloodstained fabric. Hanney rose and walked to the side of the tall figure.

  ‘I reckon you got ya mind set on going back to Tom’s office to look for them wanted posters, huh?’

  ‘Yep!’ Iron Eyes snapped.

  ‘How come them posters are so important, boy?’

  ‘I told ya,’ Iron Eyes said. ‘I wanna know how much these bastards are worth. Dollars and cents! I also wanna see if I can recognize their faces against the pictures on them posters.’

  Hanney inhaled deeply.

  ‘Then I’ll go with you, Iron Eyes. You might need someone to cover ya back.’

  ‘I never have!’

  ‘Maybe that’s the reason ya bin shot so many times.’

  ‘Ya might be right.’

  ‘I’m still gonna come with ya anyways,’ Hanney insisted. ‘Ya might as well get used to the fact.’

  Iron Eyes looked down at the livery man.

  ‘This ain’t your fight. Stay here.’

  ‘I’m tired of just standing around letting them killers do as they please,’ Hanney admitted. ‘I should have done something sooner and maybe they wouldn’t have slaughtered so many law-abiding folks.’

  ‘You couldn’t have done a thing to stop them, old-timer.’ Iron Eyes said bluntly. ‘They’re professionals, and professionals kill like you blink them old eyes of yours. It comes natural to them. If you’d stood up to them, they’d have killed ya faster than spit.’

  Hanney grinned.

  ‘I ain’t always bin a livery man, boy. I was once a pretty good hand with a gun. Me and Tom was deputies together for a few years. I got tired of getting shot at and bought the livery stable.’

  Iron Eyes tilted his head.

  ‘OK, you stubborn critter. We’ll go together, but when the shootin’ starts, don’t get in my way. Understand?’

  Hanney reached behind the wooden wall and pulled up a twin-barreled shotgun.

  ‘Don’t ya trust me?’

  Iron Eyes pulled out one of his Navy Colts and cocked its hammer. He then ventured out into the cool evening air.

  ‘I don’t trust anybody!’

  ‘Me neither!’

  Both men ran into the shadows.

  It had started.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Storm clouds gathered high above the narrow canyon and slowly obliterated the stars which had cast just enough light for the six horsemen to guide their mounts by. Yet the riders ignored everything except the man ahead of them. Snake Adams continued to lead his five remaining followers through the strangely silent canyon.

  There was an eagerness about the outlaw leader since he had managed to get his hands on the brown envelope. None of his gang had ever seen him so excited before. They could not understand the planning that had gone into the previous few months. To them it had been nothing more than following the orders of their notorious leader. The truth was far more complicated. Snake Adams had learned about the very important visitors who had arrived in Waco within minutes of them stepping off the train. For he had spies in many places. Spies who allowed him to be always one step ahead of the law. To learn things which were secret. So it had been with the Easterners from Washington DC.

  Adams had known of their trip to Waco long before they had started out on their fateful journey. He also knew why they were headed for Waco. For even powerful people can get greedy. They can also break the law if the potential profits are great enough and the temptation far too mouth-watering to dismiss. Adams had known what they were planning, and how to take advantage of it.

  There was just one piece of the complicated puzzle to put into place now and that piece was in Rio Concho. That was where he would reap the rewards of his misbegotten deeds.

  Snake Adams had not allowed any of his gang to rest since they had set out from the train-car which they had left totally wrecked. There was an urgency about the man who continued to spur and whip his faithful mount far beyond its endurance.

  Adams had something next to his merciless black heart which was driving him ever onward. He knew that the contents of the brown envelope was worth more than either he or his gang could imagine.

  He could actually taste the fortune he knew would soon be his.

 
; Lightning flashed all around the walls of the canyon, but the outlaw leader seemed possessed by demons. He continued to force his lathered-up mount along the sandy canyon and was deaf to the complaints of those eating his dust.

  Then unexpectedly Adams reined in his mount. He stood in his stirrups and looked out into the darkness.

  The other riders gathered to both sides of the silent outlaw. Ferdy Mayne almost fell from his saddle as he relaxed for the first time in hours.

  ‘Ya trying to kill us or the horses, Snake?’ Mayne gasped as he hung on the neck of his steaming horse.

  ‘Or both!’ Brewster chipped in.

  Adams dismounted and snapped his fingers.

  ‘Water the horses, Kyle,’ he ordered.

  ‘But we ain’t got much water left, Snake,’ Parker said.

  ‘Water ’em!’ Adams raised his voice.

  A terrified Kyle Parker slid from his sweat-soaked saddle and started to gather their canteens together.

  Adams removed his hat and tossed it at the outlaw.

  ‘Give Kyle ya hats, boys. He’s gonna water the nags.’

  Ben Lynch carefully lowered his aching frame to the ground and moved towards Adams.

  ‘We gonna waste all our water on the horses, Snake? Me and the boys are damn thirsty too.’

  Adams nodded.

  ‘The horses need it more than we do.’

  ‘Who says?’ Brewster asked angrily.

  ‘Hush up, One Ear!’ Adams ordered. ‘We need the horses watered so they can take us down there.’

  The five outlaws looked to where Adams was pointing with his outstretched arm. The golden lights of Rio Concho were like fireflies away in the distance.

  ‘Is that the place we’re headed for, Snake?’ Lynch asked.

  Adams turned to face his men. Even in the faint starlight they could see the grin on his face.

  ‘Yep. That’s the place. That, my friends, is Rio Concho.’

  ‘How come we’re going there?’ Parker asked as he filled each of the upturned hats with water for their mounts.