The Black Horse Westerns

by Abe Dancer

  ‘I take the third choice,’ he said.

  Carter followed him but Price grunted a quick order for him to desist.

  ‘Let’s hear it,’ he said, ‘and it’d better be good if you want to avoid unnecessary suffering.’

  ‘My choice is I’ll be the one giving the ultimatum. Either you’ll leave town voluntarily or I’ll arrest you and you’ll provide me with a full confession.’ Price watched Nixon chuckle. ‘We’ve worked well together for a while and I owe you that.’

  Nixon laughed aloud, prolonging his amusement until Carter joined him in heaping scorn on the idea.

  ‘You are an odd man, Price, but I’m not leaving town and you’re not arresting me.’

  ‘Then I can’t protect you.’

  Nixon raised his hand, aiming to order Carter to seize Price, but then stilled his hand.

  ‘Protect me from what?’

  ‘From what is about to happen. You didn’t destroy the evidence. There are hundreds of copies of Orson Brown’s article around White Ridge already. If I don’t leave here with you under arrest, they’ll go up on every door and on every post and on every window in town faster than your hired guns can tear them down. You won’t keep the truth from the townsfolk no longer. This is over for you.’

  ‘You’re bluffing,’ Nixon roared, his face reddening with an all-consuming anger such as Price could imagine he’d had when he’d killed Sherman Donner. ‘Nobody would help a worthless runt like you.’

  ‘Yesterday you might have been right, but in the last few hours I’ve made several good and influential friends. So, what’s it to be, Jake, a cell in my law office?’ Price paced up to Nixon and put all the pent-up venom of the last eight years behind his demand. ‘Or do I run your sorry hide out of town?’

  ‘When do we make our move?’ Barney asked.

  Jim considered the approaching town from the back of the wagon on which they were being transported.

  He’d used the knife that Barney had purloined to slice through most of his own ropes and Barney’s but to maintain the illusion that they were held securely he’d not cut them all the way through. This ensured the tension still held him in a tightly bound manner, but just one flick of the wrist from the blade he’d tucked up his sleeve and he would be free.

  Now he had to await his moment to act. He’d decided that trying to escape while out of town was doomed to failure when he had Barney to protect and they had nowhere to hide, but White Ridge was sure to present him with many opportunities.

  As they trundled down the main thoroughfare, Jim saw that the main road was almost deserted. Pike drew everyone to a halt outside the mayor’s office, then called for everyone except for one guard, who remained on the back of the wagon, to join him in debating their next actions.

  From the snippets of conversation that Jim overheard Pike wanted someone else to speak to Nixon first, to gauge how he would react to Pike’s having disobeyed his order by bringing them to town. But that matter became irrelevant when on the other side of the road the door to the newspaper office was kicked open. Mayor Nixon and Deputy Carter emerged, closely followed by Sheriff Price.

  In a line they headed down the boardwalk towards the law office. Curiously, although they all looked at the wagon, they didn’t break their stride.

  Jim tensed as Pike waved to draw Nixon’s attention, judging that his moment to act was fast approaching.

  ‘We need to talk,’ Pike shouted when Nixon didn’t acknowledge him.

  This time Nixon glanced his way but he still continued walking along the boardwalk. His failure to approach made Pike cast bemused glances at the other men. Jim also wondered why he was ignoring them, and he couldn’t help but notice that the sheriff was walking at the back, his posture suggesting he had the other two under arrest. Jim shook that thought away as being impossible.

  ‘Mayor Nixon,’ Pike persisted, ‘this is important. I’ve brought Barney Dale and Jim McGuire back to town. They need to talk to you.’

  Nixon came to a halt. He glanced over his shoulder at Sheriff Price who rubbed his chin before nodding. Then all three men turned to head towards them.

  ‘Why have you brought those men here?’ Nixon asked when he reached them, his voice sounding less authoritative than usual.

  ‘They have something interesting to tell you. Perhaps we should go up to your office and talk about it.’

  ‘I’m afraid not. Sheriff Price here has other ideas.’

  ‘Price,’ Pike snorted, ‘has ideas?’

  ‘Too many these days, but perhaps to save time, you should bring them all along to the law office and we’ll talk about it there.’

  Pike nodded and gestured for the guard to get Jim and Barney down from the wagon.

  ‘Hey,’ Price said, stepping up to Nixon, ‘I didn’t give permission for them to come.’

  ‘Permission!’ Nixon spluttered, his jaw grinding. Then with a huge roar he drew back his fist and delivered a backhanded slap to Price’s face that sent him spinning to the dirt. ‘I don’t need permission from the likes of you to do anything.’

  Nixon kicked Price in the side, making the prone lawman bleat with pain. Jim saw the redness of Nixon’s face as the uncontrollable anger that Barney had told him about overcame him.

  Jim reckoned this was the right time to act. He let the guard pull him to his feet and usher him to the back of the wagon. Then, while the guard dragged Barney up, Jim jerked his arm to shuffle the knife down into his hand.

  ‘Time for me to act,’ Barney said, leaning towards him. ‘I’ll do all the talking.’

  ‘I prefer,’ Jim said, ‘for me do the talking this time.’

  Jim swung the knife round in his grip, aiming to cut through the last of his bonds and free himself, but at that moment Barney nudged him.

  ‘Don’t. I’ve got the best….’ Barney trailed off as his movement jarred the knife from Jim’s hand. It dropped, hit the edge of the wagon with a dull clatter, then fell to the ground.

  ‘What the…?’ the guard murmured, his comment drawing Nixon’s attention and stopping him from delivering a third kick to Price’s prone form.

  Jim lurched backwards, bundling the guard back a pace, then leapt down to the ground and dropped to his knees as he searched for the knife. He also tugged on his ropes but they held firm despite the deep cuts he’d made.

  Up on the wagon Barney tried to make amends for his unfortunate action by pushing himself before the guard and stopping him leaping down on Jim, but those efforts wouldn’t hold the guard back for more than a few seconds.

  ‘Get him!’ Nixon shouted, the order making two men move towards him, but none of them had managed a single pace before an explosion of gunfire tore out.

  First the man on the wagon, then a second and third man went spinning to the ground, their backs holed.

  While everyone flinched and ducked as they searched for where the shooting had come from, Jim saw the gun-toting and black-clad man standing in the law office doorway: Isaiah Jones. He raised his gun again but by now Mayor Nixon had seen him too. While running behind the wagon, he delivered quick instructions.

  Returning gunfire exploded around the door and shattered the window, making Isaiah jerk back inside. But the moment the first volley had ended he risked coming out again and returning fire, and this time he was joined by a second shooter who edged out into the broken window to fire.

  Jim didn’t see who it was, but he put that from his mind when he saw that their guards and the mayor had dived down behind the wagon. He looked up at Barney on the wagon and received an acknowledging nod. Then they gave up trying to find the knife and ran for the law office.

  Price had also had the same idea but he was merely crawling towards it on all fours while, sprinting with their hands bound behind their backs, Jim and Barney pounded across the road.

  ‘Hurry,’ Isaiah shouted, moving out to lay down a covering round of gunfire, his action being supported by the second defender. This time Jim saw that Billy Jameson was doin
g the shooting.

  Then he hurtled through the door, closely followed by Barney.

  ‘A knife,’ Jim demanded.

  Getting his meaning Isaiah broke off to collect a knife from Price’s desk. He cut through Jim’s bonds. Then he pointed to the armoury and slapped Jim’s shoulder.

  When Jim had collected a gun he joined Billy at the window and aimed gunfire at the wagon. He saw that Price was still crawling slowly towards them, but Nixon had focused his gunfire on the law office.

  ‘Stop crawling and get in,’ Isaiah shouted, but Price continued his slow way onwards.

  ‘If you’re helping Price, and the lawman defied Nixon by freeing Billy,’ Jim said, looking at Billy and Isaiah in turn while smiling, ‘then you sure have a great story to tell.’

  ‘We do,’ Billy grunted, his low tone not sounding pleased despite his freedom.

  Jim cast him a bemused glance, then returned to helping Isaiah cover Price as he crawled up on to the boardwalk and came inside.

  ‘What were you doing?’ Isaiah demanded as Price shuffled past him. ‘Nixon only kicked you.’

  Price didn’t reply until he’d crawled to his desk, where he squirmed round to sit with his back resting against it.

  ‘He ignored me,’ he murmured. ‘I thought I’d made him respect me, but he just swatted me away like a fly, then couldn’t even be bothered to kill me.’

  Isaiah opened his mouth to respond, then shrugged and looked at Jim.

  ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘There sure is a lot to explain, but it comes down to this: we’re taking on Nixon. You with us?’

  ‘Sure,’ Jim said, deciding he didn’t need to know anything else. He glanced at Billy. ‘I never thought I’d get to work with you, but we’ll get this done. Just keep your head down and follow my lead.’

  ‘What do you care?’ Billy grumbled.

  Jim considered Billy’s surly manner. He was used to his moods, but this appeared to be something more serious. The last time he’d seen him Billy had thought he was doomed to visit the gallows. Now he was free and yet he was looking at Jim with undisguised hatred.

  ‘Not yet, Billy,’ Isaiah said. ‘We get ourselves out of this situation, then we settle the rest.’

  ‘I want answers now,’ Billy snapped.

  Isaiah loosed off a couple of exploratory shots at the wagon, presumably to drag everyone’s attention back to their immediate problem, but it had no effect on Billy, who glared at Jim from the opposite side of the window.

  ‘To what?’ Jim asked.

  ‘To the question of who you are,’ Billy muttered.

  Jim shrugged, not understanding what Billy meant.

  ‘I’m Jim McGuire,’ he said.

  ‘You ain’t!’ Billy snapped.

  As Jim frowned, guessing where this might be leading, Isaiah placed a hand on Jim’s shoulder.

  ‘Billy and I have been talking,’ he said.

  ‘About what?’ Jim said, turning to face Isaiah and seeing in his eyes the same kind of contempt that Billy was showing.

  ‘About how you can’t be Jim McGuire.’

  ‘Why do you think that?’ Jim murmured.

  ‘Because,’ Isaiah said, pointing at his own chest, ‘I am Isaiah McGuire.’

  CHAPTER 14

  Over by the other window Barney glanced at Jim and frowned, then returned to looking outside, and this comment even made the self-pitying Sheriff Price look at them.

  ‘You’re Isaiah McGuire,’ Jim murmured, ‘from White Ridge?’

  ‘I am,’ Isaiah said with some relish.

  ‘Is that the younger or the elder brother?’

  ‘Elder.’

  Jim nodded, making a reasonable guess as to what had happened. Isaiah appeared to be a few years older than the man he’d shot nine months ago, a man who, he now assumed, had been this man’s brother.

  ‘You were right earlier,’ Jim said. ‘We haven’t got time to talk about this right now. The moment we have Nixon, I’ll tell you the truth.’

  ‘I know. I only saved your life so you and I can sort this out once and for all.’

  Isaiah glared at him then swirled round to look around the side of the door, effectively dismissing the matter for now.

  Jim looked at Billy hoping he’d give the same acknowledgement, that they’d postpone any discussion for later, but Billy wasn’t as cool as Isaiah had been and returned a sneer that said he’d never want to hear any excuses.

  With the contempt on either side of him making his ears burn, Jim watched the wagon. The gunfire had attracted attention throughout the town, but none of it was supportive. Windows had been shuttered up, people had fled from the road and, worse, the only people getting involved were several men making their way over to the wagon from the mayor’s office to receive instructions from Nixon.

  Jim counted ten men besides Nixon but, worse, he also noticed that Nixon was gesturing in other directions. This suggested that other, unseen, men were making a move to approach the law office from this side of the road.

  ‘You reckon we’ll get any help?’ Jim asked.

  ‘If it doesn’t come soon it never will,’ Isaiah said, his aggrieved tone showing he’d noticed the same problems as Jim had. ‘I’d figured this town had lived under Nixon’s thumb for too long and others would jump at the chance to help.’

  ‘They might, but only if they think they can defeat him.’

  ‘Then we need to make some headway and prove it’s worth fighting back. Any ideas?’

  Jim looked at Billy, but he just returned a contemptuous sneer that said he wouldn’t talk to him even when his life was at stake. So he turned to the sheriff who was now rocking back and forth on the floor.

  ‘What about you, Sheriff?’ he asked.

  Price took several seconds to acknowledge he’d heard him, then slowly looked up.

  ‘He ignored me,’ he murmured. ‘He just batted me aside like a fly.’

  ‘I gather you plucked up the courage to face up to Nixon, and that means you’ve got to see it through.’

  Price looked at Isaiah, who smiled.

  ‘You do it,’ he said. ‘I have confidence in you.’

  ‘You had confidence in me before, but what good did it do me? I faced up to him. I arrested him. He showed respect for me and came along but he was just humouring me. He batted me aside. He just batted me aside.’

  Isaiah and Jim glanced at each other silently, realizing that they’d get no help from him. Barney also shook his head.

  ‘If you’re looking to fight your way out of this,’ he said, ‘I won’t be much use. But if you want me to talk my way out of this, I reckon I can oblige.’

  ‘Talking won’t keep the bullets away,’ Isaiah said to a supportive grunt from Jim.

  ‘I know, but it might stop them getting fired in the first place.’

  Jim glanced outside at Nixon who was gesturing again, his urgent movements suggesting that whatever assault he was planning was imminent.

  He shook his head. ‘I can’t let you get yourself killed on some foolish plan.’

  ‘Agreed,’ Isaiah said. So, with nothing else left to discuss, for several seconds they listened to feet scampering outside as Nixon’s men got themselves into position for an assault.

  Jim was preparing himself to begin shooting when Sheriff Price spoke up, and for the first time since he’d crawled into the law office his voice sounded confident.

  ‘Barney is right with one small proviso,’ he said. He got to his feet, making everyone in the room look at him. He stood with a straight back and a confidence in his eye that hadn’t been there a few moments earlier. ‘Nixon won’t listen to Barney, but he will listen to me.’

  Two minutes later Sheriff Price stood before the door, his gun drawn but held lowered and his other hand clamped firmly on Barney’s shoulder. When he received Isaiah’s cue he raised his gun and fired twice into the ceiling. Then he counted to ten before kicking open the door to stand framed in the doorway. The other three men inside ke
pt themselves back from the doorway and windows to avoid being seen.

  ‘Don’t shoot,’ Price shouted. ‘I’m bringing ’em out.’

  Price pushed Barney outside and followed him. When he’d moved out of Jim’s sight Jim crawled along the floor to the window and risked peering through a corner of the broken pane. Billy was still standing close to him but out of sight, and Isaiah had taken up a position beside the other window.

  Jim tried to catch Billy’s eye, hoping that maybe the formulation of this plan to defeat Nixon might have cheered him, but Billy wouldn’t look at him.

  Outside, Price and Barney moved into view to reach the edge of the boardwalk, then stepped into the road, so Jim consoled himself with the thought that they’d got further than he’d thought they would.

  ‘What’re you doing, Price?’ Nixon demanded from behind the wagon.

  ‘I got ’em,’ Price shouted. ‘I got ’em all. Everything’s fine and it’s all down to me.’

  Several men emerged from behind the wagon and the glances that Price cast around told Jim where the other men were hiding.

  ‘I ain’t a fool, Price. You tried to arrest me earlier. Stop where you are.’

  Price kept walking. ‘You don’t order me around no more, Jake. I take care of the law in White Ridge. I took care of Isaiah Jones and Jim McGuire and now I’ve got this one under arrest. He says he’s got an interesting story to tell.’

  ‘I ain’t interested in hearing it.’

  ‘And to tell you the truth, neither am I.’ Price stopped and threw Barney to his knees. ‘That man only speaks in lies. His word means nothing, but that’s my decision to make, ain’t it, Nixon?’

  With a glance at the men around him, Nixon came out from behind the wagon.

  In the law office, Jim ducked down, then gestured to Isaiah.

  ‘It’s working,’ he whispered. ‘I don’t believe it but he’s got Nixon interested enough to come out into the open.’

  ‘Just give the word and we go for ’em,’ Isaiah said.

  Jim nodded then returned to watching what was happening outside, where Nixon was still walking towards Price. He stopped ten paces away from the sheriff, with four men flanking him.