Guns of Wrath

by Colin Bainbridge

  ‘Looks to me like you folks could do with a ride,’ the reverend said.

  ‘I’m glad you said that,’ Bannock replied.

  ‘Hop right in. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you been givin’ yourselves an early baptisin’ in the river.’

  ‘Yeah, somethin’ like that.’

  Comfort and Bannock went to the back of the wagon. The canvas cover was partly unfolded and they hoisted themselves over the tailboard. The reverend gave a low word of encouragement to the horses, accompanied by a kind of click with his tongue, and the wagon lumbered forward.

  ‘You forgot to ask where he’s goin’,’ Comfort said.

  ‘Who cares? I’m just about all in. Like I said, he’ll be headin’ for Willow.’

  Comfort laid his head back. Bannock was right. What did it matter where they were going? A welcome languor induced by the steady plodding of the horses and the swaying of the wagon began to overcome him.

  ‘I don’t suppose we’ll be passin’ anywhere near this shack of yours?’ he said, rousing himself for a moment.

  ‘Nope. Wrong direction.’

  There was silence till a loud droning noise started up and filled the wagon. The oldster was snoring and before long Comfort’s eyelids drooped and they were both asleep.

  Chapter Three

  Rank Wilder sat his horse and surveyed the scene before him. Just about as far as the eye could reach was his property. His cattle grazed the best grass in the country. He ran the town of Cayuse Landing and more or less controlled traffic on the river. He had a lot to lose and he didn’t intend taking any chances. He ruled by fear and intimidation and he knew he couldn’t allow anything to interfere with that. If the townsfolk ever got the nerve to consider rebelling, it could threaten the entire structure he had built up. So when he heard about the killing of three of his best boys, including the Drewitt brothers, he was more concerned than might have been expected. If someone – anyone – stood up to him, he had to be removed. He turned to his foreman, a hardcase named Kilter.

  ‘You sure that no-good rodent Bannock was involved?’ he said.

  ‘So it seems.’

  ‘I can’t believe it. What could have got into the old goat?’

  ‘Sure seems strange. Maybe he’d been drinkin’.’

  ‘If so, it didn’t affect his shootin’.’

  He paused and continued to look about him.

  ‘Have the boys found either of them yet?’ he asked.

  ‘There ain’t been no sign of ’em. You want me to get the marshal to round up a posse?’

  ‘Nope. You say Bannock has a shack somewhere?’

  ‘Yeah. It’s near the river somewhere between Cayuse Landing and Willow.’

  ‘There’s a good chance they’ll make for it. Take a few of the boys and ride out there. Wait and see if they turn up.’

  ‘What if they don’t?’

  ‘Burn it out. But give ’em a day or two first.’

  ‘Sure.’

  Kilter made to ride off. ‘By the way, I been puttin’ the word out on the river,’ he said.

  ‘Good. I want Bannock and this other hombre eliminated.’

  Kilter applied his spurs and his horse broke into a trot. Wilder watched him and then turned towards Cayuse Landing. He felt in need of the services of one of Miss Annie’s girls. Maybe more than one.

  Comfort woke feeling stiff and sore. His head ached. He looked round for the oldster but there was no sign of him. The wagon had stopped. Slowly, he got to his feet and peered out. He was cheered by the sight of a fire just beginning to blaze and the Reverend Bent placing slices of bacon in a pan. He looked up as Comfort dropped from the wagon.

  ‘Hope you slept well,’ he said. ‘Figured you two could do with a bite to eat. Git your clothes dry too.’

  ‘Sure sounds good,’ Comfort replied. ‘Where is Bannock?’

  Almost by way of reply, the oldster appeared from round a corner of the wagon carrying a blackened pot.

  ‘Water for coffee,’ he said. He placed it over the flames. ‘How are you feelin’?’ he asked.

  ‘Like I been in a fight with an alligator,’ Comfort replied.

  The oldster chuckled. ‘Ain’t nothin’ to what Wilder’s likely to have in store. For both of us.’

  The reverend looked up.

  ‘You boys been upsettin’ Rank Wilder?’ he said.

  ‘It ain’t difficult,’ Bannock replied.

  ‘That man ain’t got no religion,’ the reverend said. ‘He’s a wolf that needs tamin’.’

  Comfort sat down beside the fire. Soon the warmth began to work its effect on him and his clothes started to dry.

  ‘I sure appreciate this,’ he said, ‘but if this Wilder is all you say he is, you might not want to get involved.’

  Bent did not reply. Instead he concentrated his attention on the bacon. He heated up a can of beans and soon they were enjoying a good meal. Comfort felt just about dried out and as they drank their coffee he began to feel like a regular human being again. Bannock seemed to have recovered too. The only thing Comfort felt was missing was a good smoke. As they relaxed, the reverend seemed to take up the conversation where it had been left off.

  ‘You were sayin’ somethin’ about Wilder. What you done to upset him?’

  ‘It’s a bit complicated,’ Comfort said.

  ‘Guess it must be to get old Beaver here involved.’

  The oldster grinned. ‘Guess you’re more used to seein’ me about the Crystal Arcade,’ he replied.

  ‘Reckon we owe you an explanation,’ Comfort said. Quickly, he regaled the reverend with a brief account of what had happened on the boat.

  ‘I heard somethin’ about what happened to the Drewitt boys,’ the reverend responded. ‘Now that wouldn’t have been you two, would it?’

  ‘Those Drewitts were just lookin’ for trouble,’ Comfort said.

  ‘I ain’t holdin’ no brief for Wilder or his gang,’ Bent replied. He looked thoughtful. ‘What was the name of this man you’re lookin’ for?’ he said.

  ‘Briggs,’ Comfort replied. ‘Lonnie Briggs. Why, you heard the name?’

  The reverend’s brows were creased in concentration.

  ‘Yeah,’ he said at length. ‘I think I have.’

  Eagerness lit up Comfort’s face more than the flames of the fire.

  ‘Where?’ he said. ‘Some place around here?’

  ‘There was a meetin’,’ Bent replied. ‘It was near a place called Greenoak.’

  ‘I know of it,’ Bannock intervened. ‘It’s downriver in the swamp country.’

  ‘It weren’t much of a meetin’ but some folks got up and gave their testimony. One of ’em mentioned his name. I didn’t take much notice at the time but now you’ve brought it up, I reckon it might have been Briggs.’

  Comfort leaned forward and refilled his coffee cup.

  ‘Don’t sound like the sort of thing Briggs would get up to,’ he said. ‘Beggin’ your pardon an’ all.’

  ‘The wind bloweth where it listeth,’ the reverend responded.

  ‘Can you remember what he looked like?’

  Bent shook his head. ‘Nope. Can’t remember a thing about him.’

  ‘I guess that wouldn’t be surprisin’,’ Comfort said. ‘There weren’t anythin’ particularly distinctive about him.’

  The reverend ran his goat’s beard through his fingers, twisting it as he did so.

  ‘I do remember one thing he said,’ he remarked.

  Comfort looked at him over the rim of his cup.

  ‘He mentioned a place called Jaspersville. That struck me because if it’s the same place I’m thinkin’ of, it’s down in Georgia. I spent a lot of time that way when I was a youngster before the war.’

  Comfort looked up and exchanged glances with Bannock.

  ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘It’s down in Georgia. I spent some time there too.’

  The reverend didn’t respond. If he had caught any significance in Comfort’s words, he did not re
gister it. Instead he got to his feet and tossed the dregs of his coffee to the ground.

  ‘Time we was movin’,’ he said. ‘I don’t know what you fellas intend doin’. I could take you all the way to Willow if you want.’

  ‘We need guns and horses,’ Comfort said.

  ‘That ain’t all,’ Bannock responded. ‘I could sure do with a change of clothes and a drink.’ He looked sheepishly at Bent. ‘Just a small one,’ he added.

  ‘OK,’ Comfort said. ‘We’ll take you up on your offer, Reverend, and be mighty grateful for the opportunity.’

  They doused the fire and put their utensils back in the wagon. This time Comfort sat up on the wagon box beside the reverend and Bannock took up a position just behind them. The reverend urged the horses to take the strain, clicking again with his tongue, and they were on their way. Comfort was working on what they would do after they got to Willow but there wasn’t much doubt in his mind. The oldster must have been thinking along similar lines. Presently his voice piped up.

  ‘I guess I know what we’re gonna do next.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Comfort said. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Ride on down to Greenoak.’

  ‘You ain’t wrong,’ Comfort replied.

  They didn’t wait around in Willow, only taking long enough to do what was necessary. After paying a visit to the bath-house and purchasing some clothes, they called in at the gun store and picked themselves a couple of Winchester rifles and four Colt Army .44s with ammunition. Lastly they bought horses, bay and dun geldings. As they rode out, they passed the reverend, who had set up camp where they had left him just outside of town. Having already said adios, they didn’t stop but waved in acknowledgement. The reverend watched them till they dwindled in the distance. Then he spat and, poking about underneath the wagon seat, pulled out a half-full bottle of Forty-Rod. He took a swig and then sat down to rest his back against a wagon wheel before taking a second and a third.

  ‘Sure was lucky coming on the reverend,’ Bannock remarked.

  ‘Yeah. We owe him,’ Comfort replied.

  They rode steadily, for the most part roughly paralleling the banks of the river, allowing the horses to go at their own pace. After their recent experiences, they felt restored. After a time Bannock slowed and Comfort did likewise.

  ‘Problem with your hoss?’ Comfort said.

  ‘Nope. Was just thinkin’,’ Bannock replied.

  ‘What about?’

  ‘A few miles further down the trail and we’ll be passin’ close to my old shack.’

  ‘You wanna stop by?’ Comfort said.

  ‘We got a long ride to Greenoak. I know we picked up a few supplies in Willow, but I’m thinkin’ it might not be a bad idea to stock up. I got some vittles and some medicines might come in useful.’

  ‘Makes sense if it ain’t too far off the track,’ Comfort replied.

  They decided to swing by the oldster’s cabin. After a few more miles they took a turn-off. A little further on a shallow stream joined the trail and ran alongside. Presently Bannock held up his hand as a signal for them to stop.

  ‘You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?’ Comfort said.

  ‘Someone’s been ridin’ here recently,’ the oldster replied.

  ‘Yeah, I thought I saw sign too.’

  They both slid from leather and examined the ground. It wasn’t hard to discern the imprint of horses’ hoofs and when they walked a little way along the stream they found places where the banks had been disturbed.

  ‘How many do you reckon?’ Comfort said. ‘I figure three or four.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s what I think.’

  ‘Maybe it don’t mean anythin’.’

  ‘Maybe not, but the cabin is kinda secluded. Don’t tend to get a lot of visitors.’

  ‘There’s only one way to find out,’ Comfort replied.

  They remounted and continued riding, but before long Bannock again gave the signal to halt. They got down and tethered the horses.

  ‘Best go the rest of the way on foot,’ Bannock said.

  They took their rifles and stepped forwards. Before they had taken many paces they had their first view of the shack through some intervening brush. It wasn’t much of a place, made from rough-hewn logs and roofed with sod. It sagged in the middle and the remains of a veranda were pitted with holes. Behind it stood a broken-down corral. From where they stood, they could see no horses but the oldster’s keen eyes picked out traces of where they had been.

  ‘Somebody’s been here. They’ve made an effort to sweep the place and cover their tracks.’

  ‘If they’ve hidden their horses someplace close by, it can only mean they don’t want anyone to know they’re there.’

  ‘And that means they ain’t up to no good,’ Bannock said. ‘I don’t like nobody takin’ over my cabin. I figure we’re just gonna have to do somethin’ about the situation.’

  ‘Is there a back door?’ Comfort asked.

  ‘Nope. Only one way in and out.’

  ‘Question is, are they there now?’

  For a time they contented themselves with watching the cabin closely but it wasn’t giving away any of its secrets.

  ‘They must be waitin’ for me to show up,’ Bannock said.

  ‘More likely they’ll be hopin’ it’s the two of us.’

  ‘You think Wilder’s involved?’

  ‘Either way, why disappoint them?’

  Bannock thought about it for a few moments.

  ‘You wait here,’ he said. ‘I’ll go back, get my horse and then ride on in. They’ll have to show their hand.’

  ‘You’ll be takin’ a hell of a risk. Assumin’ they’re in there, they might just shoot and no questions asked.’

  ‘It’s a possibility, but on the other hand they won’t be expectin’ any trouble. They think they’ve covered their tracks here but they weren’t too clever about leavin’ sign further along the trail. They’re more likely to let me ride straight in. If I know Wilder’s boys, they’ll enjoy having some fun at my expense. Besides, they’ll want to try and find out where you are.’

  ‘We could just turn and ride away,’ Comfort said.

  He saw the look on the oldster’s face.

  ‘Just posin’ all the options,’ he added.

  ‘Stay out of sight. Keep me covered when I ride in.’

  The oldster slipped away and Comfort took up a position where he had a clear view of the shack. A few minutes passed, then he heard the clatter of hoofs as Bannock approached on the bay. He rode past Comfort without a glance and then emerged from the cover of the trees into the open space in front of the shack. Almost immediately the door flew open and two men emerged.

  ‘Well, if it ain’t Bannock!’ one of them said. ‘What took you so long? We been expectin’ you.’

  Bannock climbed down from the saddle as a third man appeared from inside the shack.

  ‘Take his horse round to the corral,’ the first man said.

  The newcomer stepped off the broken veranda and took Bannock’s horse. Bannock hadn’t spoken but now he turned to the man who had been doing the talking.

  ‘What are you doin’ here, Kilter?’ he said.

  ‘Well, that ain’t friendly,’ Kilter replied.

  Suddenly his hand dropped to his gun. At the same moment Bannock drew his .44 and in the exchange of fire that ensued Kilter staggered backwards, blood pouring from his chest. The other man’s gun was in his hand but before he could fire at the oldster, Comfort’s Winchester spat flame and lead and he went crashing into a stanchion before hitting the edge of the veranda, where he lay still. Comfort ran forward as a shot rang out from inside the house. It was a wild shot and before the person could repeat it Bannock had fired through the doorway. There was a grunt and the sound of a chair being toppled.

  Comfort didn’t wait to follow the action but carried on sprinting round the side of the shack. He was met by a burst of gunfire and bullets kicked up the ground in front of him. The gunnie there had let g
o of Bannock’s horse which was moving sideways and whinnying with fear. Comfort zigzagged as the man began to run. He was gaining on Comfort when there was another burst of fire from inside the house and the man flung up his arms and fell forward, hitting the ground with a resounding thud. Comfort drew up in surprise. Two more shots rang out and then there was silence. Comfort wasn’t sure what had happened. He started to move towards the front of the shack when Bannock’s voice called out.

  ‘You OK, Comfort!’

  ‘Yeah! How about you?’

  ‘I’m OK. I got a graze to the shoulder but it’s nothin’ much.’

  There were footsteps within the shack, then Bannock appeared round the corner.

  ‘Those three are dead,’ he said.

  Comfort moved quickly but cautiously to where the fourth gunman lay. It only took a glance to show him that he was dead too.

  ‘What happened?’ Comfort said as Bannock came up behind him. ‘I didn’t shoot him.’

  ‘Me either. The varmint in the shack shot him through a window. He must have panicked and assumed he was you or some other hombre on the opposite side.’

  ‘You figure that’s all of ’em?’

  The oldster nodded. ‘We’ll find their horses hidden somewhere among the trees,’ he added.

  They went inside the shack. The place was in a mess but there was no serious damage – other than that which had already existed. Comfort took a good look at the place.

  ‘How long you been livin’ here?’ he said.

  ‘Can’t remember. A long time.’

  The oldster seemed to consider the question before turning again to Comfort.

  ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘We’ll bury these varmints and then get back on the trail.’

  By the time they had finished the unpleasant task it was late in the day.

  ‘Suppose we stay on,’ Comfort said. ‘Ride on first thing tomorrow.’

  The oldster shrugged.

  ‘Stay if you like,’ he said. ‘I guess it’s possible we could be visited by some more of Wilder’s gunslicks.’

  ‘I don’t think so. Leastways not just yet.’

  The oldster stood on a piece of the veranda. A mist was coming up from the stream. From round the back of the building a horse whinnied. They had put the gunslicks’ horses in the corral.