The big gundown

by J. A. Johnstone

  “What about their horses?” Falcon asked.

  Barnes shook his head. “I didn’t see them. I’m sorry.”

  “That’s all right,” Falcon said. “You’ve given me a good description of the men. It will be very helpful.”

  Falcon was able to get good descriptions on the horses the men were riding from at least half a dozen citizens who had seen them ride out of town at breakneck speed. Two were riding roans, one was riding a black horse, one a white horse, and one was riding a paint.

  Falcon examined the ground where the horses had been tied up outside the bank and saw something that made him smile.

  One of the horses had a tie bar shoe on his right forefoot.

  Riding out to the east end of town, he looked around until he found that same tie bar. He chuckled. They may as well have been leaving a series of arrow shaped signs reading, WE WENT THIS WAY, behind them.

  Somewhat farther into the trail, Falcon realized that the Mueller brothers weren’t going to make it easy for him. They had been on the run for nearly all their adult life, so they knew how to confuse and disorient anyone who might be tracking them. They took great pains to cover their true trail, while leaving false trails for anyone to follow. To that end the Mueller brothers and those who were with him, rode through streams and over hard rock, trying every trick in the book to throw off anyone who might be following them. But Falcon hung on, doggedly.

  The Mueller brothers didn’t realize it, but in trying to shake off anyone who might be following them, they were actually helping Falcon. It was always the same five horses who broke the trail, and he had a way of identifying each of them, not just the one with the tie bar shoe. One of the horses had a slight turn-in of its right rear hoof. Two of the horses had noticeable nicks in their shoes, one on the left rear and the other, on both rear shoes. Only one horse had no noticeable features and yet that, in itself, became a way of identifying it. In addition, all the horses had grazed together for the last few days, because their droppings were filled with the same kind of wild, mountain meadow grass.

  “Whoever that fella is that’s a’doggin’ us, is still on our trail,” Terrell said.

  Luke twisted around in his saddle. “Are you sure?”

  “Hell yes, I’m sure. I just got me a glimpse of ’im on the other side of that far ridge.”

  “That makes him a little more ’n a mile back.”

  “Ain’t they no way we can shake him?” Caldwell asked.

  “You got ’ny ideas that we ain’t tried?” Luke replied. “We done ever’thing I can think of, an’ it ain’t even slowed ’im down none.”

  “Whoever the hell he is, I swear, he could track a fish through water,” Poole said.

  “I tell you what we ought to do,” Clete said.

  “All right, brother, let me hear your idea.”

  “We ought to just wait behind a couple o’ rocks and shoot him, soon as he comes up on us.”

  “If I thought for certain we would get him, I’d be all for it,” Luke said. “But we’re not likely to get a clean shot at him out here.”

  The five men had stopped for a few minutes, not only to discuss the situation of the man on their tail, but also to give their horses a breather. All five were looking back, trying to get a glimpse of the man who was following them. When Luke turned back around, he chuckled.

  “I got me an idea,” he said.

  “What’s that?”

  Luke pointed to a narrow draw in front of them. “If we can get through that draw, he’ll have to follow.”

  “So?”

  “Look at them rocks up on the top there, on the right hand side. Do you see ’em?”

  “I see ’em.”

  “If we push the rocks down, it’ll block the draw and he can’t get through,” Luke said.

  “Hell, why don’t we just wait until he gets into the draw, then push them rocks down on him?” Clete asked.

  “Yeah, all right, we can try it,” Luke said. “Come on, let’s hurry through the draw.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Falcon reached the spot where the five men had halted. He could tell by the tracks that they had stopped there for a few minutes, and he could also tell that they had left that spot at a gallop.

  Why?

  What would cause them, out there in the middle of nowhere, to suddenly break into a gallop?

  Looking ahead, he saw that the trail led to a very narrow draw, so slapping his legs against the side of his horse, he urged the animal on.

  “Here he comes,” Luke said. “Get ready.

  Clete and the others got in position behind the rocks and waited.

  “Now!” Luke shouted.

  “Now!”

  The word rolled down from the top of the rock wall, amplified by the narrow confines of the wall. The word itself got Falcon’s attention, and he jerked his horse to a stop. Then, he heard the scrape and clatter of rocks, followed by the thunder of a virtual rockslide. Glancing up, it looked as if the entire wall was collapsing right on him.

  “Ha!” Luke shouted. “We got him! There ain’t no way he got out of that!”

  Clete, Terrell, Caldwell, and Poole stepped up alongside Luke to look down into the draw. They saw nothing but a large pile of rocks on the floor below.

  “Who was it, do you reckon?” Poole asked.

  Luke shook his head. “I don’t have no idée,” he said. “Prob’ly some deputy or somethin’. Whoever it was, it don’t make no never mind now, ’cause he’s deader than a doornail.”

  “Ha!” Poole said. “And we’ve got away clean as a whistle.”

  “Yeah, what say we divide up our money now, and each one of us go on our different way?” Caldwell said.

  “Not yet,” Luke replied.

  “What do you mean, not yet? Why not?”

  “If they was one deputy comin’ after us, there’s just as likely to be another one. Or maybe two or three more. We’d be better off all stickin’ together till we’re sure.”

  From the moment he heard the word “Now,” Falcon was on the alert. Jerking his horse around, he was at a full gallop by the time the rocks started falling, and well clear of the draw by the time the rocks started piling up on the floor below. Turning back toward the draw, he watched the dust rise as the rocks closed the passage. He would have to find another way around.

  Fortunately he had been there many times before, and he knew another way around, coming out on the other side no more than half an hour later. Once on the other side he picked up their tracks immediately. It was a lot easier following them now than it had been because, thinking they were in the clear, they were no longer making an effort to hide their trail. They were heading in a straight line for the little town of Black Hawk.

  The sun went behind the clouds just before noon, and the clouds thickened, and darkened.

  “Purty soon it’s goin’ to commence to rainin’ here like pourin’ piss out of a boot. And we’re goin’ to be right in the middle of it,” Terrell said.

  “What if it does rain? You ain’t made of sugar,” Clete said. “You ain’t goin’ to melt.”

  Poole laughed. “You ain’t made of sugar,” he repeated. “I like that.”

  “I ain’t goin’ to melt, that’s true,” Terrell said. “But it ain’t goin’ to be none too comfortable bein’ out here in it, neither.”

  “Let the rain come,” Luke said. “The more rain the better.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Think about it, Terrell. If anybody else is on our trail, why this rain will wash out all the tracks,” Luke said.

  Terrell was quiet for a moment, then he nodded. “Yeah,” he said. He laughed. “Yeah, that’s right, ain’t it? It would wash out all our tracks. Hell, I say, let the rain come.”

  “Not yet,” Luke said.

  “What do you mean, not yet? You just said the rain would wash out all our tracks, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I did, and it will. But if it will just hold off for another half hour or so, we�
��ll be to Black Hawk.”

  “Black Hawk? What’s Black Hawk?”

  “It’s a town me and Clete have already scouted out. No railroad comes to it, there’s no telegraph wires, and even if they have heard of us, there ain’t likely no one there who has ever seen us. We’ll be safe inside, and the rain will wash away the tracks. We can hole up there for a while until they quit lookin’ for us.”

  “And spend some of our money?” Terrell asked, hopefully.

  “Yeah,” Luke replied with a grin. “We can spend a little of our money there.”

  “I ain’t never been to Black Hawk,” Caldwell said. “What’s it like?”

  “It’s got beer, whiskey, food, and women,” Poole said. “What else do you need to know about it?”

  Terrell chuckled. “Don’t need to know nothin’ more about it at all, I don’t reckon.”

  It took the better part of a quarter of an hour to reach the town after they first saw it, and they rode in slowly, sizing it up with wary eyes. It was a town with only one street. The unpainted wood of the few ramshackle buildings was turning gray and splitting. There was no railroad, but there was a stagecoach station with a schedule board announcing the arrival and departure of four stage coaches per week. The first few drops of rain started to fall, and the few people that were out on the street ran to get inside before the rain came down in earnest.

  “There’s where we’re headed,” Luke said, pointing to a saloon. Painted in red, outlined in gold on the false front of the saloon were the words; LUCKY NUGGET.

  The five rode up to the front of the saloon, dismounted, and tied off their horses. Luke reached for the little cloth bag that was tied to his saddle horn.

  “You takin’ the money in with you?” Terrell asked.

  “You don’t think I’m goin’ to leave it out here, do you?”

  “I reckon not. Just think it might be a little strange for you to be carryin’ all that money.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Luke said as they stepped onto the porch. Almost as if on cue, the clouds opened up and the rain fell in torrents.

  “Ha!” Clete Mueller said, a few minutes later. “I’ll just bet you that ole’ Egan Drumm is a’ wishin’ he was with us now. After all the money we just stoled. And here he got to thinkin’ he could do better goin’ out on his own, so he left. But now here we are. We got us all this money, and he ain’t got nothin’.”

  “We don’t know that he ain’t got nothin’,” Luke said. “We don’t know nothin’ about him, not even where he is at.”

  “Yeah, but I’d be willin’ to bet he ain’t got nothin’,” Clete said.

  “Speakin’ o’ goin’ out on our own, I think maybe we ought to divide up the money now, and go our own ways,” Ollie Terrell said, bringing up the subject again.

  “We’ll divide the money when I say we divide it,” Luke Mueller said. “Anyway, what are you worried about? We got plenty of money to spend now, ain’t we? Order whatever you want, we can afford it.”

  “Yeah,” Clete added with a cackle. “We can afford it.”

  “What about women?” Terrell asked. “What if I’m a’ wantin’ me a woman?”

  “Don’t you be worryin’ none about gettin’ yourself a woman,” Luke said. “They’s plenty of women around, and once we start spendin’ the money, the women will be comin’ out of the woodwork.”

  Terrell laughed. “Women comin’ out of the woodwork. I like that. I ain’t never heard nothin’ like that before.”

  “How ’bout we start spendin’ some of that money now?” Caldwell asked. “I’m hungry. And I got me a thirst worked up, too.”

  “Barkeep!” Mueller called. Bring us a couple bottles of whiskey, some glasses, and some food. Lots of food.”

  “And some women!” Terrell added. “Let’s get some women over here.”

  Three of the bar girls who had been wandering around the saloon, flitting from table to table like bees around flowers, answered the call and within a moment the five bank robbers and three women were having themselves a party.

  Though Luke Mueller was the smallest of the men, he turned all his attention to the biggest of the women.

  “Ain’t that there’n a little big for you, Luke?” Terrell teased, laughing out loud.

  As quick as thought, a pistol appeared in Luke’s hand, and he pointed it at Terrell, pulling back the hammer.

  “You have somethin’ to say about what woman I pick?” Luke asked.

  The laughter died on Terrell’s lips, his pupils dilated with fear, and he held his hand out as if by that action he could ward Luke off. “’Course, you know I didn’t mean nothin’ by that, Luke. I was just a’ funnin’ you is all.”

  There was a long moment of high tension and absolute silence as everyone watched the tableau. Then, suddenly, a smile spread across Luke’s face, and he eased the hammer down and put the pistol back in his holster.

  “I didn’t mean nothin’ neither. I was just funnin’ you,” he said.

  The burst of laughter that followed was precipitated more by the release of tension, than humor.

  “What’s your name?” Luke asked the big woman.

  “Patsy,” the woman answered. A moment earlier she had been enjoying her flirtation with the little man, but now he frightened her.

  “Tell me, Patsy, what will you charge for me and you to go upstairs?”

  “A dollar for one hour,” Patsy said. “Three dollars for the rest of the day.”

  “Here’s five dollars. I might want to stay longer than the rest of the day.”

  Smiling, Patsy took the money and stuck it inside the top of her dress, between her very large breasts. “Oh, honey, we’re goin’ to have us a real good time,” she said. The money had changed her attitude about him.

  Luke reached under the table and picked up a cloth bag.

  “What’s that, darlin’, your laundry?” Patsy asked. “Honey, for five dollars I’ll give you a very good time, but I ain’t a’ goin’ to be doin’ no laundry.”

  The other soiled doves laughed.

  “You can leave your—uh—laundry here, if you want,” Clete said.

  “That’s all right, I’ll take care of it,” Luke said. “This way, we’ll all know where it is, won’t we?”

  “This way, darlin’,” Patsy said, leading Luke away from the table. The others in the saloon watched them go up the stairs.

  “Looks like a mouse following an elephant,” someone said on the far side of the room. Having seen the lightning draw of the “mouse” though, he made the observation very quietly, and his friend’s resultant laughter was just as quiet.

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  Copyright © 2010 J. A. Johnstone

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  ISBN: 978-0-7860-2435-3