“That’s the jist of it, Grampa,” Kitty said as she finished telling him the story that Billy Tyrene had related to her while Cyclone and the others had been down in the tunnel. The Tyrene brothers had robbed the Century City bank and Sheriff Vestry had caught Billy while Kenny and Jimmy got away. Vestry was more interested in collecting rewards for the boys as well as retrieving the bank money for himself, than in seeing justice done. At first Billy had been kept as a tied up prisoner, but while on the trail of the two remaining brothers, Vestry had offered Billy a deal. If Billy would lead them to where his brothers were hiding out, Vestry would let them all go in return for the bank money. Billy believed him and led him to Snake Gunderson and his hideaway for outlaws, where they had previously made a deal for refuge.
“You durn fools,” Cyclone said to the three boys sitting across the table from him. They were all gathered in the saloon now after the foray in the tunnel. It was a couple of hours past midnight by now. They had dragged the dead bodies behind the bar, so they wouldn’t have to look at them. Rap, Henry and the parson were standing behind Cyclone’s chair next to Kitty and Jeremy. “You shoulda known he would kill you all and take the money hisself.” Cyclone cackled with amusement. “Then he’d turn your bodies in for the reward and get that too. How dumb could you be?”
The young outlaws remained sullen and didn’t respond. They just looked at each other in resignation.
“How dumb do you want them to be, Cy?” Rap said innocently. Cyclone let the remark go, but Kitty and Jeremy each showed a hint of smirk.
“Now if I was you boys,” Cyclone said. “I’d be durn glad you run into us instead of the law. And if you’re smart, you leave this robbin’ business alone. Get honest jobs and stay out of trouble.”
“You.. you mean you’re not going to do anything to us?” Billy stammered.
“Of course not,” Cyclone said. “We gotta be gittin’ out of here, our ownselves. Manuel and his men are due here in the morning and we want to be long gone before that happens. And if you’re smart, you’ll be gone too.”
“What about our money?” Kenny spoke up. Distrust was in his eyes. You’re just gonna let us keep it? Just like that?”
“I don’t give a gol durn what you do with it. But if you hang around until Manuel gets here, he’ll take it from you, for sure. He’ll probably kill you besides.”
“So, can we go with you?” Billy asked hopefully.
“Sorry, kids,” Cyclone said. “We can’t do that. But we’re not lettin’ you leave before we go. neither. We’ll leave your guns at the stable with your horses. Then you can go when and where you want. It don’t matter none to us.”
“What about us?” Ace Dugan asked. He and Butch were seated at the same table as the Tyrene brothers.
“I don’t care what you hombres do, either, just as long as you don’t get in our way or try to come after us. I guess I don’t have to tell you what will happen to you if you do.”
Rap pulled his pistol out of his holster and nudged the barrel of it under Ace’s chin pushed skin tight against his throat. “Guess what it’ll be,” Rap gloated with a big grin on his face.
“I think they both understand, Rap,” Cyclone said. “Put that hog leg away, before you accidently blow his head off.”
Ace’s eyes were crossed looking at it and into Rap’s face at the same time. He was shaking and sweat beaded on his brow.
Rap pulled back the pistol, dropped it into his holster, and stepped back away from the outlaw. “Later,” he hissed to Ace. “Just you and me.”
“What about our guns?” Butch asked. “You gonna leave us here unarmed?”
Cyclone thought about that for a moment, then said, “No. Of course not. We’ll drop your guns off down by the livery too, when we ride out. We should have a good start before you retrieve them. If you’re smart you won’t use them to come after us.”
“Be stupid!” Rap exclaimed, stepping forward again and reaching for his pistol once more. He had a big smile on his face, but his dark eyes were grim.
Cyclone waved him back. “Leave it be, Rap,” he said.
“Aww, gee, Cy,” he said like a disappointed child. “I don’t never get much fun, no more.”
To Ace and Butch, Cyclone said. “Like I said, behave yourselves and you’ll do fine. But..I can’t hold this scallywag off forever.” Cyclone indicated Rap. “He’s a rip snorter once he gets started.”
Then to his companions, Cyclone said, “It’ll be headin’ toward dawn in a little while, in another hour or two. We’ll try to relax a bit here and then move out. We’ll be able to see the trail a mite by then and we should be long gone before Manuel gets here and finds out that Gunderson’s dead.”
The trees had afforded a little cover from the rain and held back the force of the wind, but with the condition Matt Starr was in, it wasn’t enough. He was getting weaker by the minute. His fever was escalating and he sweated heavily mixing with the soaking rain. Pain stabbed through him with every step the big sorrel took, jouncing him in the saddle. He held a death grip on the reins and saddle horn. At times he felt himself swaying and starting to slide from the saddle. He couldn’t slide out, he told himself. If he were to fall to the ground, he most certainly would never get up. He had to hang on. He had to find help and refuge somewhere. But. where?
The rain pounded heavily against the rough wood ceiling of the shack. In several places, rain water poured through holes and cracks in the worn out ceiling, Maria had lain awake for an hour or so after putting her three young boys and little girl to bed. The beds were placed strategically to be out of reach of the dripping rain. As usual, she was exhausted from a long day’s burden of cooking, washing, and caring for her four children. She cut wood for the fire place and did all the other chores that a man should do. While she was still young in years, the hardships of keeping her family well and fed, had aged her long before her time. Once upon a time she had been pretty and youthful. She could have had any man she wanted, but she had chosen unwisely, and now she was wrinkled and haggard. Her man was hardly ever home and when he was, he was brutal mean to her and the children. He did nothing to help her with chores nor tend to necessary repairs.
He had been home briefly, a week ago and she had been glad to see him leave again. Now, as she lay there listening to the pounding rain and feeling the pain of the recent bruises, she had been left with, she tried to will herself to sleep, for she needed it. She needed to renew her strength for another arduous day that would be tomorrow.
Finally, she started to drift off. She was just about out, when the sound came from outside the shack’s door. At first it sounded like a short knock, then turned to a scratching sound and then a loud thud against the plank board door.
Was he back? She thought to herself. No, It couldn’t be! It mustn’t be! There it was again. THUD! No, it couldn’t be. Her man always burst in on her. Never a Knock.
She got up, threw on her old ragged robe, and picked up the kerosene lamp from her nightstand.
Warily, should crossed the room to the door and leaned up against it with her ear almost against the wood. “Who’s out there?” She asked trying to be loud enough to be heard through the door, but not loud enough to disturb her children.
She listened intently for a moment. There was no answer. Just another thud. This time it was quieter and less urgent. She asked again. “Who’s there?” There was no answer and no thud.
Warily she opened the door a crack and peered through. She saw no one, but, there was a big sorrel stallion, out front, standing in the rain with an empty saddle.
She pulled the door open a little more and was taken by surprise as a heavy weight against the door from the other side, pushed it wide open and forcing her to step back. As the door came open, the body of a man fell forward onto the floor of the shack. He rolled over onto his back, face up.
Maria gasped and crossed herself in horror. She lifted her lamp higher and the glow bathed the man in its light. Lightning flashed outside, adding to
the illumination. The man was young and had a good face. She had no way of knowing that he was Matt Starr.
Wildcat Kitty and The Cyclone Kid Ride Again Page 26
