Ralph Compton Ride the Hard Trail

by Ralph Compton

  The morning air was cool. Lin stood on the porch, stretched his arms wide and breathed deep, delighted to be alive.

  The stable doors were open, but no one had come out yet. Saddling four horses took a while when two of those doing the saddling were kids. Lin went down the steps.

  To the east the sun was an orange ball. To the east too lay Mason. Lin wondered what had happened to his brother. He hoped Chancy had not taken to cards and drink and forgotten about the Cathers—and him.

  Someone came out of the stable.

  Lin stopped in shock, his sense of well-being shattered. His hand flicked to his Colt, but he did not draw for the simple reason that the other was not wearing a revolver or carrying a rifle. “You!” he blurted.

  “Me.” Seth Montfort grinned.

  “Where are Etta June and the kids?” Lin glanced past him, but the inside of the stable was in shadow.

  “Permit me to offer you a compliment,” Montfort said. “You are harder to kill than a cockroach.”

  “I asked you a question.” Lin doubted the rancher was alone. Stone and the other gun sharks must there, as well.

  “Your concern is touching,” Montfort said. He raised his right hand and snapped his fingers, and out of the stable walked Stone and half a dozen assassins. One was behind Etta June, holding her by the arms. Two others had the children.

  “Let them go,” Lin said.

  Seth Montfort laughed. “I would be more worried about myself, were I you. You and I have unfinished business.” He snapped his fingers again, and two more of his hired killers came around the left side of the stable, three more came around from the right.

  Lin grew cold inside, but not from fear. He had expected odds like this. “Are you sure there are enough?”

  “Oh, quite sure,” Montfort said. “These are your last minutes on earth, so treasure them.”

  Etta June tried to pull free, but the man holding her would not let go. “Seth, you have gone too far.”

  “Stay out of this, my dear. It is between your new admirer and me,” Montfort said glibly. “I warned him. I told him I had staked a claim, but he refused to listen.”

  “I am not one of your cows,” Etta June said. “I do not have your brand on me.”

  “Not a brand that anyone can see,” Montfort said, “but it is there.”

  “I don’t have a say?”

  “You are a woman.”

  “So?”

  “So no.”

  Lin was strangely calm, given his plight. He was worried more about his new family than about his own hide. “I will say this once more. Let them go and ride out, and no more blood need be spilled.”

  “Does that include your brother’s?” Montfort asked.

  “What about Chancy?”

  “The last I saw him, he was lying in Abe Tucker’s store with a hole in him,” Montfort related. “And no, before you ask, I did not put it there. Three men have come all the way from Cheyenne hunting him and you.”

  Lin’s calm evaporated and was replaced by a knot of anxiety. “How bad was he hurt?”

  “They were keeping him alive until you showed,” Montfort said. “I should not be telling you, but what the hell. You will never step foot in Mason again.”

  “You might be surprised.”

  Seth Montfort snorted. “Oh, please. What can you do against this many? I admit you surprised me when you found out I sent Griggs to spy on Etta June, and later when you showed up alone at my ranch. But the surprises end here.”

  “I have a few more,” Lin told him. “The first is that Lassiter is dead.”

  “What?” From Stone, who took a step toward him.

  “The second is that before I killed him, he murdered Patricia and Sue Dixon. Since he was working for you, that makes you partly to blame. Under the law, you can have your neck stretched.”

  “Only if the law finds out,” Seth Montfort said, “and I am not about to tell them.”

  “I will,” Etta June declared.

  Montfort glanced at her, his irritation plain. “Why must you be like this when I have only your best interests at heart?”

  “Liar. You only want to keep your neck out of a noose,” Etta June said. “But Pat and Sue were friends of mine, and I will see that justice is done.”

  Montfort sighed and faced Lin. “Any other surprises before the lead starts to fly?”

  “Just one more,” Lin said. “I burned down your house.”

  “Sure you did,” Montfort said, and laughed.

  “You had gone off to Mason, your punchers said. I shot the three leather slappers you left to watch your place, and one of your hands, and I had to kill your butler or whatever he was, besides. Then I set your house on fire.”

  “Damn,” Stone said, and chuckled. “You are a hellion.”

  Seth Montfort did not share the man killer’s admiration. “Do you realize how much that house cost me? How long it took to build? The furniture, the furnishings, were the best money can buy. Now you tell me it all went up in smoke?”

  “Consider it an omen. Your dream of claiming the Big Horns for your own is about to go up in smoke too.”

  Montfort drew himself up to his full height and tried to square his rounded shoulders. “I have had enough of you. Mr. Stone, he is all yours.”

  “At last,” Stone said.

  Lin was eager to end it too, but not quite yet. “Etta June and the children. Get them out of here.”

  “They stay,” Seth Montfort said.

  “But they might be hit.”

  “I am beginning not to care,” Montfort said. “Mr. Stone, what are you waiting for?”

  “Nothing,” Stone said, and his hand swooped low.

  Chapter 32

  Lin drew and fired so fast, the deed was done before his brain realized his hand had moved. He fired too fast, though. The slug he meant to core Stone’s heart instead caught Stone in the shoulder and spun him half around.

  Other pistoleros were grabbing for their revolvers.

  The smart thing to do was retreat to the house. But in his fear for Etta June and the children, Lin threw all caution to the breeze. Roaring like a riled grizzly, he hurtled forward, snapping a swarthy killer taking deliberate aim. The man dropped in his tracks. A second killer was raising a rifle. Lin cored his left eye.

  Seth Montfort bolted, shrieking over his shoulder, “Shoot him! Shoot him! Shoot him!”

  With two of their own down and Stone on his knees, the rest were scattering. The assassin holding Etta June let go and darted toward a corner of the stable. She, in turn, bounded toward the two men who had her son and daughter. The pair took one look at Lin and decided their companions had the right notion; they forgot about Tom Jr. and Beth, and hunted cover.

  “Into the stable!” Lin shouted to Etta June.

  Revolvers cracked. Bees whizzed over Lin’s head and on either side of him. He responded in kind. Etta June had reached her kids and was flying toward the stable with an arm around each one. Covering them, Lin backed after her. He was shot at, and returned the lead.

  Suddenly a shadow fell over him. They were in the stable. A figure to one side flamed and thundered. Lin’s answering shot brought a cry and a thud.

  In the quiet that fell, Lin heard ringing in his ears.

  Etta June and the children were hunkered next to the wall. She was hugging Beth and stroking her hair.

  “Are you all right?” Lin needed to know.

  Nodding, Etta June said, “She is scared, is all. How about you?”

  “I am fine,” Lin said. If by that he meant trapped in a stable ringed by paid killers out to earn their pay and with a woman and her two children to protect, then yes, he was fine.

  “What do we do?”

  Lin wished he knew. He warily peered out. The men he had shot lay where they had fallen. Of the rest, there was no sign. Suddenly a shot pealed and the wood near his face spit slivers. Ducking back, he squatted.

  Seth Montfort’s laugh had the same effect as fingern
ails on a blackboard. “Did that get your attention?”

  Lin did not answer.

  “I have the stable surrounded. You are not going anywhere. Make it easy on yourselves and give up.”

  Like hell we will, Lin almost yelled.

  “How long can you hold out without food and water?” Montfort shouted. “Because that is how long I will wait if I have to.”

  Beth began crying. Etta June hugged her and assured her everything would be all right, but over Beth’s shoulder Etta June’s eyes met Lin’s and reflected her worry.

  Montfort had more to say. “You are on your own. Your brother is in Mason, and Cody Dixon does not know of your plight. There is no one to help you.”

  Lin could not keep quiet any longer. “Tell me something I don’t know!”

  “How about this?” Montfort said. “I am not patient by nature. I could wait until you stagger out weak from hunger and thirst. Or I can have my men burn you out.”

  “There are children in here!”

  “Accidents happen, Bryce. A brat bumps a lantern and a stable burns to the ground with the brat’s family and a friend inside.”

  Etta June stood. “You would do that, Seth? After all your talk of taking me to be your wife?”

  “I want your land, woman, more than I want you,” Montfort answered. “And fate has given me the means to my desire.”

  “You wouldn’t!”

  “What else did you expect? You have chosen your hired man over me. Since you care for him so much, it is fitting the two of you die together.”

  “But Tom and Beth!” Etta June cried.

  Lin took a gamble. He ran toward Etta June and the children. A revolver spoke and his sleeve gave a tug. He weaved and ducked as more slugs sought him and he felt a pang high on his left arm. But he made it.

  Etta June flung her arms around him. “Why did you do that? Were you trying to get yourself killed?”

  “We are in this together.” Lin could protect them better if they were close to him. He checked his arm. The slug had broken the skin, but that was all.

  Seth Montfort was laughing. “When I first set eyes on you, Mr. Bryce, I took you for a big, dumb ox. You have done nothing to improve my impression.”

  A small hand fell on Lin’s leg.

  “I am so afraid,” Beth said, her cheeks wet with tears. “Don’t let him hurt us!”

  Lin’s throat did not want to work as it should. He had to try twice to say, “I won’t, little one.”

  “You have ten minutes!” Seth Montfort hollered. “By then I will be ready to set the stable ablaze.” He paused. “Banner! Richards! Run to the house and fetch as many lamps as you can carry. I don’t know where she keeps her kerosene, so we will use what is in the lamps.”

  “I use lard oil,” Etta June whispered to Lin. “I can’t afford kerosene.”

  Not that it mattered, Lin thought. The lard oil would burn just as nicely. He scanned the stalls. “How many horses did you saddle?”

  “None. They grabbed me as I came in. I tried to shout, but the man who grabbed me had a hand over my mouth.”

  “Can you ride bareback?”

  “Of course.”

  “All of you?” Lin gestured at little Beth.

  “She will ride with me,” Etta June said. “What do you have in mind? They will shoot us the moment we are out the door.”

  “Not if I keep them busy,” Lin said. “Follow me.” Staying close to the wall, he hustled them to the stalls. Tom Jr. needed a boost onto a bay. Then Lin held Beth while Etta June climbed on a sorrel. “Wait until I give the word.” He handed Beth up and went from stall to stall, bringing each horse out and forming them in a bunch around Etta June and the children.

  “Nothing to say in there?” Seth Montfort taunted.

  “Not to you,” Etta June said quietly. She added something under her breath that Lin did not catch but which caused Beth to bleat in surprise.

  “Ma! You told us never to use those words.”

  “I am sorry, Daughter,” Etta June said. “Folks say I have the forbearance of a saint, but even saints have their limits.”

  “What is a saint?” Beth asked.

  Lin was watching the front. “Stay in the middle of these horses,” he instructed. “Keep low until you are out of rifle range.”

  “Wait a second,” Etta June said. “Where will you be? How do you intend to keep them busy?”

  “They cannot shoot at you if they are shooting at me.”

  “No! I won’t let you.” Etta June shifted to climb down, saying, “Get down, Tom. We can’t have him fight them alone.”

  But by then Lin was behind the horses. He raised his left arm. “Think of them and not me,” he said, and brought his arm down, smacking the last animal on the rump. At the same time he let out with his imitation of a Sioux war whoop.

  The effect was everything he hoped it would be.

  All the horses broke into motion. Etta June shouted for Tom and Beth to hold on as they were swept up in the panicked flight.

  Yipping and screeching, Lin was hard on the hooves of the last animal. When they broke into the open, he was only a few steps behind. He spotted a man wedging a rifle to his shoulder and shot him dead. Another assassin darted out from the left side of the stable, raising his revolver to shoot either Etta June or Tom Jr. Lin shot him dead too.

  “Forget them!” Seth Montfort bawled from somewhere off to the right. “Kill Bryce! A hundred dollars to whoever drops him!”

  Lin ran toward the sound of Montfort’s voice. He was almost to the corner when an assassin came flying around the other side. They fired simultaneously. The man, rattled, missed. Lin did not. As the man fell, Lin tore a Colt from his grasp.

  A revolver in each hand, Lin plunged around the corner.

  Most of them were there. Revolvers crashed and boomed. A pain seared Lin’s side, and he lost part of an earlobe. Firing first one revolver and then the other in swift cadence, Lin gave a good accounting. Enemies fell, thrashing. He stared into a rising muzzle, but a muzzle of his spoke first.

  Seth Montfort was near strident with panic. “Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!” he shrieked as he raced toward the rear of the stable.

  Lin started after him. A hand grabbed his ankle, and he nearly pitched onto his face. It was one of those he had shot, still very much alive. Lin pointed a Colt, but a shoulder slammed into his back. He tripped over the man on the ground, and was down.

  A knife thudded into the earth an inch from Lin’s face. Twisting, he sent a slug into the forehead of the knife’s wielder.

  A rifle was thrust at Lin’s face. He swatted it aside just as it went off. For a moment his hearing went, and he was blinded by the gun smoke. He jammed his Colt against the ribs of the culprit and triggered a shot of his own.

  Lin’s vision cleared.

  Montfort had disappeared.

  Lin heaved to his feet and gave chase. So long as Seth Montfort lived, Etta June would never know a moment’s peace. He was almost to the back of the stable when he was reminded by the thunder of a rifle behind him that Montfort was not the only one left. In midstride Lin whirled and snapped off the last shot from the Colt in his left hand. The man fell, and Lin dropped the revolver.

  Then Lin was past the stable. Only three horses were in the corral, milling in a panic. On the far side, their reins looped around the top rail, were the mounts of Montfort and his men.

  Seth Montfort was swinging onto one.

  Lin climbed the rails. Holding the Colt with both hands, he aimed more carefully than he had ever aimed in his life. As Montfort wheeled the horse, Lin stroked the trigger.

  A squawk and a tumble ensued. But Montfort was up on his hands and knees in an instant. He glared about him, spied Lin and lurched to his feet.

  Lin took quick aim, but Montfort doubled over and ran toward the stable. Thanks to the corral rails, Lin could not get a clear shot. He had no recourse but to go after him.

  Lin vaulted into the corral. The three horse
s shied away. Running full out, he crossed to the other side and was about to lever his body up and over when a rifle spanged.

  Lin went prone. The shooter was at the rear of the stable. Aiming under the bottom rail, Lin shot the man in the leg. The man cursed and toppled, and his head became a target Lin could not resist.

  Reloading as he went, Lin climbed over the rail and sped along the side of the stable. He had lost sight of Montfort, but only temporarily. When he reached the front, Montfort was bounding toward the house like an oversized jackrabbit.

  Lin went after him. He did not like being in the open, but it could not be helped. Montfort made it inside before Lin could shoot. He almost failed to spot a gun shark who appeared to rise up out of the ground. They fired at the same split second, and it was the gun shark who pitched over.

  Lin’s boots thudded on the steps. Montfort had left the front door open, and he barreled inside. Someone was in shadow at the far end of the hall. A revolver spat, and Lin replied. There was a loud grunt. The man’s revolver spoke a second time, and again Lin answered.

  The man fell against a wall. Gasping and gurgling, he melted to the floor, leaving a scarlet smear.

  Cautiously moving forward, Lin kicked the revolver from fingers gone limp. “You have got your due,” he said.

  “It can’t end like this,” Seth Montfort said. Two holes in his chest were oozing more scarlet.

  “All the money you paid your pack of killers, and what did it get you?”

  “I hate you,” Montfort said.

  “I have heard that a lot lately.”

  “How can this be?” Montfort said, asking himself, not Lin.

  “You brought it on yourself. You had more land than you needed, but it was not enough.”

  “Bend down and I will rip out your throat with my teeth,” Seth Montfort growled.

  “Try to die with dignity.”

  Montfort coughed, and now blood was coming out of his mouth. “To think a no-account like you has done me in.”