by Alan David
‘Have some breakfast before you try to think of anything,’ she replied forthrightly. ‘But, whatever you decide to do, don’t go off half-cocked, son. That’s the main line to disaster.’
‘Disaster has already struck,’ he retorted, and sat motionless, his thoughts revolving aimlessly while he waited for breakfast.
But Aunt Polly was right. While he was eating, the shock of the news receded slightly and his thought processes began to operate. His dark eyes glittered as he gazed into space above the rim of his coffee cup, and even Netta moving in front of him failed to turn his mind from harsh duty.
He took it as a personal affront, this attack upon the camp. Yaro must be hiding someplace now, laughing at the ease with which he had struck S & W. Manning’s own reputation was in jeopardy, and he realised that he had to do something drastic to redress the balance. He finished his meal and thanked Aunt Polly, who came to his side as he arose from the table.
‘What are you going to do now?’ she demanded. ‘Whatever you do, don’t add to the trouble you’ve already got.’
‘I ain’t likely to do that.’ He smiled grimly. ‘As it happens, there ain’t a lot I can do except wait around here for Asa to get back. I called the wrong shot and it cost us dearly, so I’m gonna be half afraid to try anything in future in case the same thing happens. It ain’t my life so much that worries me. But all those men who died this morning would still be alive if I’d done the right thing.’
‘Why are you blaming yourself for what happened?’ she asked firmly, looking frankly into his dull eyes. ‘If you had been there yourself would it have made any difference to the attack? There were a thousand head of cattle driven through the camp before the shooting started, and most of the dead men were trampled in their tents before they had a chance to get up.’
‘Yeah.’ Manning nodded slowly. ‘I couldn’t have changed anything personally, that’s for sure.’
‘And did you have men around here doing nothing who could have been out there and prevented the raid?’ she persisted.
‘Nope. Asa said he was gonna get more men. Every hired gun on the payroll was already out doing his job.’
‘Then what can you blame yourself for?’ Aunt Polly cocked her head on one side like a bird and watched his changing expression with her gleaming brown eyes.
‘You’re right,’ he admitted grudgingly. ‘On the face of it I am to blame, but when you put it like that there was nothing I could have done about it. Asa was wrong when he put the blame on me. True, I did say I didn’t think Yaro would hit the camp, but even if I had guessed right it would still have happened. But you was saying that I oughta do something now, Aunt Polly.’
‘It would help if you could pull something out of the bag,’ she agreed.
‘Mebbe there is something I can do.’ He spoke grimly, dropping a hand to his holstered sixgun, and the big weapon pulled clear of leather as he drew and examined it. ‘I ain’t cleaned this yet, and I better leave it for a spell or I might have to clean it twice. I got the feeling it’s about to get real dirty.’
‘What’s on your mind?’ Aunt Polly studied his intent face and saw grim determination in every line of feature.
‘Never mind. But it’s just come to me that I got a couple of leads to follow up. I’ll be seeing you, Aunt Polly, and thanks for the pep talk. It was just what I needed.’
‘You’re not leaving town, are you?’ she asked.
‘I might have to, but I’ll leave word if I do. If you hear any shooting, don’t be alarmed. So long.’
He turned and left the house, walking rapidly along the street, and his eyes were narrowed against the morning sunlight. He watched for signs of another gun trap but there was no evidence of the presence of Creed and Penner. Yet he wanted to see them, for he planned to force a showdown and those two men were the only real lead he had, apart from Glory Harpe herself, but he meant to get around to her pretty quickly.
Chapter Twelve
The town seemed deserted with most of the men gone out to end of track, and Manning strode along the sidewalk, his right hand down at his side. He reached the office and Hank Chilvers appeared in the open doorway, his heavy face grave as he greeted Manning.
‘Howdy, Hank,’ Manning replied. ‘You wanta come along with me?’
‘What’s doing?’ The big town marshal hitched up his sagging gunbelt and came out of the doorway. ‘You got that look about you, Chet. Or are you upset by what’s happened out .at the camp?’
‘Hell, yes, I’m upset about that, but I ain’t to blame.’ Manning made an effort to keep his emotions under control. ‘There are a couple of gunnies in town who could make trouble for me and I wanta talk to them. You’d better come along to see that I don’t break the law. I don’t want any trouble afterwards.’
‘Two gunnies? How’d you know about them? Are you sure they are after you?’ Chilvers fell into step beside Manning and they went on along the sidewalk.
‘I ain’t sure of anything anymore. All I know is that they are in town and they’re showing an interest in me and the Railroad. Well, it’s about time I started earning my pay. There’s been hell and high water out at the camp, and I’ve got to hit back whichever way I can.’
Chilvers made no comment, and Manning gazed around the street, wondering where the two hardcases would be at this time of the morning. Probably in the eating house, he guessed, and angled in that direction.
‘What can you tell me about the new outfit that’s taken over Bill Buskin’s spread?’ he asked tightly, his nostrils flaring as he watched his surroundings.
‘New rancher is a man called Ryker. I seen him in town. He’s been here about a month, I’d say. Don’t look a sociable type to me, but a lot of ranchers are like that. If they ain’t tougher than a buffalo’s hide then they don’t last long out here, do they?’ Chilvers glanced at Manning’s set face. ‘What’s your interest in Ryker?’
‘I ain’t interested in him, yet. But I got a tip that he ain’t all that he should be. His outfit is saltier than two-year-old beef. Yaro has got to be holed up someplace on this range for his operations against the Railroad, and it’s likely that he’s picked himself a spot like this ranch. But that’s only guesswork and I want you to keep that to yourself for the time being, savvy?’
‘Sure. But I reckon you could find out more about Ryker if you looked up Sheriff Colfax.’
‘I ain’t got time to go over to Gadson Flats.’ Manning cast a quick, searching glance around. ‘But I will get around to it.’ They had reached the door of the eating house and he opened it and entered, pausing to look around at the few late diners. The two men he wanted were not present, and he sighed as he faced Chilvers. ‘You must have seen these two around town,’ he commented, and gave Ike Joiner’s description.
‘Them!’ Chilvers ejaculated. ‘Hell, yes! I saw them in the saloon last night. They were involved in a bit of trouble and I ran them out’ve town. They went quietly enough. I warned them not to show their faces around here again.’
‘Hell!’ Manning went outside and turned slowly on the sidewalk, his slitted brown eyes missing nothing of his surroundings. ‘If they are after me then they’re gonna have to come back, unless I ride out and give them a chance. They’ll have to take any chance they can get now you’ve put the deadwood on them.’
‘Don’t take any chances, Chet,’ Chilvers warned. ‘They sure looked good and mean to me.’
‘I’d have a go at them this morning if they was both covered with hair and had tails,’ Manning retorted. ‘Thanks for coming, Hank, but I don’t need you anymore. Besides, I got a lady to call on before I do anything more, and that’s another matter which won’t wait.’
‘You can find time for a woman with all this trouble on your plate?’
‘I got nothing else to do. I’m stuck here in town until Asa gets back, and that ain’t gonna be before sundown at the earliest.’ He heard hoofs along the street and looked to the right to see Netta riding towards him at a leisurely pac
e.
‘Now that’s a pretty sight,’ Chilvers said. ‘By the looks of it, she’s on her way for her daily swim in the creek.’
Manning barely heard the words, but he studied Netta’s neat figure as she came abreast of them. She smiled at him and lifted a hand, and he touched the brim of his hat briefly, his mind already leaping ahead to the next step he could take.
‘Be seeing you, Hank,’ he said, and turned away, leaving the lawman to gaze reflectively after Netta.
‘Yeah, sure,’ Chilvers replied absently.
Manning went on to the Big Chance, but it was dosed, and he entered the alley at the side and mounted the stairs that led up to the balcony. He kept low in order to avoid being seen from the street and tapped at the window Glory had told him about. The curtains were drawn and there was no reply. He waited impatiently for a few moments then rapped louder. The next instant the curtains were pulled aside and Glory’s face appeared, her eyes screwed up against the strong sunlight. She gasped at the sight of him and opened the window.
‘You’re a bit late for midnight,’ she said huskily. ‘Where did you get to? I waited a long time before I decided you wouldn’t be coming.’
‘Never mind that now.’ He spoke impatiently, still wondering how best to handle her. He was convinced that she had been planted on him, but he had a slight advantage while she thought he did not know. Yet until she showed her hand there was little he could do, and his impatience was slowly getting the upper hand. He had to do something. He wanted to get his teeth into his problems, for he had always been a man of action.
‘What’s happened?’ she demanded. ‘Something’s wrong. I can tell by your face.’
He told her what had occurred at end of track and saw her eyes widen. If her concern was not genuine then she was a very good actress, he thought.
‘That’s terrible!’ she exclaimed. ‘All those poor men! But you’re the chief troubleshooter, Chet! How come you’re not out there supervising the cleaning up, and why aren’t you on the trail of those badmen?’
‘Because I’ve got orders to remain in town,’ he retorted.
‘Are you off duty?’
‘Hell if I know. But I ain’t got anything to do.’
‘Then how about escorting me this morning?’
‘Where do you want to go?’
‘You could show me the town.’
‘I don’t wanta be seen around town.’
‘Then take me out of town.’ She looked at him beseechingly.
Manning studied her face, and while his own features remained impassive his pulses quickened. She wanted to get him out of town. Those two gunnies had been kicked out and she would know about that. He nodded slowly, more eager still to get to grips with trouble.
‘Okay, if you like. I reckon I’m just about through on the Railroad, anyway. After the mess I made preparing to meet Ben Yaro I’ll be lucky if they let me run messages for them.’
‘Give me ten minutes to get ready,’ she said. ‘I’ve had breakfast, and was preparing to look around. But how do we get out of town?’
‘Can you ride? I’ll rent a horse for you. My bronc is at the stable.’
‘That sounds fine. I’d better dress for the occasion.’
‘That would be a good idea.’ He smiled, and none of the tension he was feeling showed in his face. ‘I’ll see you out front in ten minutes, okay?’
She nodded and he left the way he had come, reaching the street again, and there was a fine sheen of sweat upon his forehead. He watched for trouble as he walked to the stable, but the town was quiet and still. He rented a horse for Glory, saddled his own animal, then mounted and rode back along the street to find her waiting on the sidewalk for him. She was wearing a white, short-sleeved blouse and a black, divided riding skirt. A flat-crowned Stetson was perched on her black hair. She smiled faintly as he reined in towards the sidewalk, and swung deftly into the saddle of the horse he was leading before he could dismount to help her.
‘It’s rather hot, isn’t it?’ she demanded. ‘I caught a glimpse of water out there beyond town limits, and some trees. Do you think we could ride that far?’
‘Sure. It isn’t all that far.’ He turned his mount and they rode at a canter along the dusty street. When the town was behind them they urged their horses into a run, and the breeze which touched Manning’s face was hot and dry. It was a couple of miles to the creek, and Glory turned aside from the trail before she reached the surrounding trees to set her horse into a full gallop, leaving Manning behind for quite a distance. But he rode steadily and whittled down her lead, catching up with her just before she circled to arrive at the tree line. She was smiling, and the exertions of the ride had put high colour into her beautiful face.
‘Let’s sit in the shade somewhere,’ she suggested, stepping down expertly from the saddle, and Manning joined her quickly, trailing his reins and letting both horses graze.
He looked around at the creek, which was large and in the shape of a figure eight. He could not see all the waterline, and the brush which grew in profusion around it reached down to the water’s edge. But there was peacefulness here, and he sighed as he followed her into the trees and sat down beside her in the shade some yards from the bank. He leaned back, hands under his head, but when he closed his eyes he could see end of track in his mind, and imagined the carnage which had been wrought by the raiders.
‘What are you thinking about, Chet?’ Glory demanded, leaning across him, her soft fingers touching the now-fading bruises on his battered face.
‘The trouble we’ve got on the Railroad, what else? I can’t forget it.’ He sighed heavily.
‘I’ll help you forget it.’ She kissed him lightly. It was a slow, sensuous kiss, which aroused him immediately, and all thoughts of the trouble fled from his mind. He held her easily in his arms, but there was no urge in him to do more. The tip of her tongue traced the outline of his mouth and he shivered, feeling as if cold water was splashing along his spine. Then he was strong with desire, but when he began to turn to overpower her with his strength she pressed her hands gently against his shoulders and made him lie still while the kiss went on and on.
His hands clutched convulsively at her fine body, and she made no protest as he began to feverishly remove her blouse. But still she occupied him with the kiss, and he felt as if he were being driven mad with lust. He became more passionate, and she could no longer control him. He unfastened her skirt, almost ripping it from her until she chided him softly. Then his hands were upon her bare, warm flesh, cupping her breasts, stroking her back and thighs, but when he tried to roll upon her she cried out in sudden pain.
‘Your gunbelt,’ she protested, and he cursed softly and levered himself up to divest himself of it, throwing it carelessly to one side. Her fingers were working at the buttons of his shirt, and then her fingers were running lightly over his skin. A cold glow enveloped him and he writhed ecstatically, all thoughts of reality fading into insignificance against the power of their connecting flesh. His body, pressed to hers, was hot, but she whispered. ‘Not yet!’ and began to kiss his neck, working down to his chest, and Manning closed his eyes and twisted uncontrollably, helpless in her practised hands. The physical pleasure of the moment blanked out his mental torture and he gave himself thankfully to the release she promised ...
‘Chet!’ A woman’s voice screeched his name and jerked him back from the brink of paradise, breaking the enchanted spell which possessed him. ‘Chet, look out!’
He started up, sweating profusely, and tried to turn in the direction from which the voice came, recognising it as Netta’s. She was behind him, somewhere by the water’s edge. But Glory grabbed his arms, holding him for a moment, until he began to exert his strength against her. At the same time his keen ears, now alerted, caught the ominous sound of brush being kicked and broken, as if a steer was making its way quickly to the water.
Alarms began to sound in his mind and he reached for his gun. But his belt lay several feet awa
y. He cursed when he saw it, and turned his head to peer in the direction of the disturbance now moving rapidly towards the spot where they were lying. He caught a glimpse of a tall, thin figure, and just behind was a shorter man, whose hat brim was pinned back with a thorn.
Cursing, Manning returned his attention to Glory, who was screaming now, yelling at the top of her voice. His blood ran cold as he took in what she was saying.
‘Hurry! For God’s sake hurry! He’s not armed!’
Manning gulped and swung his right hand, slapping her across the face and cutting off her voice. She slumped a little as he thrust himself away from her, rolling towards his gunbelt. It seemed that time suddenly stood still and everything was moving slowly. It appeared to take an age for him to roll over three times and get close enough to his belt to grasp the butt of his sixgun, and all the time the crashing sounds of the two approaching men were coming closer and sounding more ominous. The Colt did not pull clear, and he cursed as he reached for the thong over the hammer, his fingers trembling as he freed it. His face was turned towards danger, and in the background he could hear Netta’s voice still crying out a warning.
Manning felt his gun clear leather, and twisted his wrist to flick the weapon up into the aim. The taller of the two men was in plain view, his gun in his left hand, muzzle lifted for a shot. Yet he was at a disadvantage because Manning was so close to Glory, and it was obvious that he dared not risk hitting the woman. Manning had no such problem, and now he was coldly calculating again; the troubleshooter in action.
He saw the shorter man running to the right, trying to get an angle into his aim, and there were twin guns in his apparently capable hands, both levelling at Manning. Lifting his muzzle, Manning thumbed back the hammer, his lips pulling from his teeth in an animal snarl as he realised that it was going to be close. He could see the black muzzle of the taller man’s gun pointing directly at him, and wondered why no shot had yet been fired.
Then Glory’s arms encircled Manning’s broad shoulders and he was pulled backwards while she screamed unintelligibly, all restraint gone. There was pure terror in her voice. She was a part of this gun trap and it looked as if everything was going wrong for them.
