Lindeen stood slowly and adjusted his hat.
“Well, I didn’t know you had your knife out for Dukes. But it still makes things mighty tough for Mel and me.”
Hallam smiled coldly.
“Your worry. I done my part.”
Lindeen flushed and looked as if he were going to argue, but he changed his mind. Muttering, he nodded curtly then walked out of the cave to where his mount waited patiently. One of the outlaws, a man named Montana, stepped forward.
“Will I stop him, boss?”
Hallam shook his head.
“Let him go. He might be some use to us some time. Pays to keep tabs on a few crooked lawmen. Never know just when you can use ’em.” His face straightened. “Find out where Dukes is and that daughter of his—I’ve got me a hankerin’ to finish this, to bring him topplin’ down, now that he’s about to celebrate ten years in office. Be a good time to kick his legs out from under him ... And the more Dukes suffers, the more I’ll like it.”
Montana nodded and started out of the cave. Hallam turned his head and spat on the polished presentation box. There was a gleam of madness in his red-rimmed eyes.
Six – Showdown
Yancey’s face was bleak as he stared at Lang Huckabee in the banker’s office.
“You’re an accident going somewhere to happen, Huckabee.”
“I was trying to help,” the Winchester man snapped. “I thought Cato might need a hand while you were back here going over my brother’s books. How was I to know my horse would slip and raise such a dust cloud?”
“You need to take a sight more care, for one thing. For another—stay right out of it. You pushed Johnny and me into helping you on this, so let us manage it our way.” Huckabee flushed and glanced towards the angry Cato who was still slapping dust from his clothing after their long ride back from the hills.
“Well, we could’ve stayed in the hills till Lindeen showed again,” the drummer said sullenly. “He would’ve had to come back that way to get to town.”
“We don’t know that,” Cato growled. “There might be a dozen ways he can get back to town. But I would’ve picked up his trail and found out where he was going if you hadn’t come along.”
“All right—I’m sorry. My intentions were of the best.” He flicked his gaze from Yancey to Cato and back to Yancey. “Uh—I asked you fellers to help me recover that rifle; that’s all I’m interested in.” He paused and gestured to the open books on his brother’s desk. “I don’t care about the money—or the state of the bank’s books. And I wish you wouldn’t, either.”
Both Enforcers merely held his gaze in silence. He shifted uncomfortably.
“Look, I didn’t realize Mel might be mixed up in something crooked. I don’t want you to give him a hard time. He’s a family man; has a wife and kids. Do what you like about Lindeen—he’s just another crooked lawman. But I want you to leave my brother alone.”
“Can’t do that, Huckabee,” Yancey told him quietly.
“You brought us into this deal and part of it is the robbery of that money. There seems to be evidence that your brother and Lindeen have worked some sort of land racket, and have falsified papers and deeds. That’s a crime against the State of Texas and Johnny and I are sworn to uphold the law in Texas. We operate on a pretty loose kind of commission, but, like I told your brother, we’ve got the governor behind us. It appears your brother conspired to defraud the State and that means Dukes. If we find there’s a case to answer, we got to act on it.”
“No, goddamn it,” Huckabee said, slamming a fist onto the desk. “That’s not why I brought you in. I don’t want to make any trouble for Mel. I just want that gun back before I lose my job. Leave his books alone. That’s nothing to do with why I brought you here.”
“But you did bring us here and I’ve already found certain discrepancies that someone has to explain. We can’t just ignore them, Huckabee.”
The Winchester man made a weary gesture. “Hell, Bannerman, can’t you just leave it be? Concentrate on getting my rifle back. That’s all I want. It’s all you need to do to square away with me.”
Yancey sighed: “I guess it’s just your usual blundering interference that’s brought all this about, Huckabee. You came up with the theory in the first place that the robbery was a deliberate set-up …”
“But that was only to get you interested .”
“Well, it’s backfired on you, mister. Sorry. But if I find proof that your brother and Lindeen have been involved in a land-fraud, they’ll both have to answer for it.” Lang Huckabee clamped his lips tightly together, glared at both men then stormed out of the office. Cato shook his head.
“Like you said: an accident goin’ someplace to happen.”
“This time he’s not only happened to us, but to his brother and Lindeen as well. My guess is they won’t take any too kindly to it, either.”
~*~
Will this journey never end? thought Kate Dukes as she clung to the wildly-bucking stage after it had hit a particularly deep rut in the trail. She was flung roughly across the seat forcing the Ranger in the stage to help her upright again. A second Ranger was riding on top with the driver and the shotgun guard.
The whole journey had been a disaster, Kate thought, straightening her hat and re-tying the ribbon bow beneath her chin. First the trestle bridge had been cut across the Brazos Canyon—that was something that was beyond anyone’s control, she admitted, the landslide being categorized as an ‘act of God’. But the rest of it had been man-made confusion.
The train had reversed from the shattered trestle bridge and all had gone well for a few miles. Then the caboose had jumped a curve and fallen off the track. Fortunately, the train guard had been forward playing cards with the crew in the luggage van at the time. But it jammed itself against a rocky wall of the gorge they were passing through and the train simply couldn’t proceed until the caboose had been manhandled out of the way. Every male passenger—and a score of females, too—had rallied with levers and whatever strength they had, pushing and jostling and heaving until the caboose was sent crashing over the gorge.
That had cost four hours.
In Clebourne, there were repairs being made to the spur track and though these were hastily done and the track laid temporarily in place again, the delay cost another three hours. Then word came up from Hillsboro: The track was completely out because of a derailed freight train: escaped Indians from a nearby reservation were blamed but Kate didn’t care who was responsible; the fact was, the track was out.
And so they had to be loaded into old stage coaches used on the backwoods’ runs, to a point where they could be transshipped aboard a train through Waco and on to Austin. But there would be a delay while they waited for a train to come up the line from the state capital. It was bringing a special car to transfer a shipment of gold from a spur track town called Marlow back to Austin.
Kate already knew Hillsboro to be a good imitation of a town at the end of the world and she was not looking forward to stopping there while the train labored up from Austin, the gold brought in from Marlow, the van hitched on, and, eventually pulled out again, Austin-bound.
She was sure she would be black and blue by that time: in fact, she was sure she was black and blue already.
The only thing that made it at all bearable was the knowledge that she would see Yancey and her father at the end of the nightmare journey. Trying to comfort herself with this thought, Kate attempted to get some sleep as the stage clattered and banged and rocked its way through the night.
~*~
Chet Lindeen was just returning from his evening rounds when he saw the two drunken men coming across the ill-lit street towards him near his law office.
They were swaying and clinging to each other, and singing raucously. It was just the kind of thing he needed. He was feeling mean and there had been nothing for him to vent his spleen on during his rounds; for once, the town was quiet.
But these two offered a fine opportunity. A
s they drew closer, he saw that they were a couple of cowboys in from one of the outlying ranches, likely looking for their horses or maybe they felt like a girl or more booze. Whatever they wanted, they were going to have to get past him first.
Lindeen stepped off the walk and into the street to meet the cowpokes. He braced his legs and stopped in front of them, lifting his left arm and spreading his hand against the nearest man’s chest. The man’s companion stumbled, almost fell, and brought up short. They stood there, swaying, using each other for support.
“What the hell’s all this racket?” Lindeen growled. He shoved the nearest man and they both staggered around, trying to stay on their feet. “Decent folk are tryin’ to sleep an’ here’re you two wakin’ up the whole damn’ town.”
“J—j—j—jus’—sssssssssssssing—in’,” slurred one man.
“Yuh—” agreed the second as he threw his head back and opened his mouth to start caterwauling again.
Lindeen slammed a fist into his belly. The man gagged as his knees buckled and he fell to the dust, writhing, almost dragging the other man down with him. He fought for balance then lurched away from Lindeen, blinking.
“H—h—h—h—heyyyyy!” He stumbled forward, waving a hand loosely. “You hhhhhhit my—mmmmmmy—parrrrrd.”
“An’ I’m about to hit you,” growled Lindeen, stepping forward.
The man straightened and swung away by pure instinct, stumbling so much that he had to put down his hands to keep from falling on his face. But he pushed upright and tried to stagger off.
Lindeen caught him easily and grabbed the man by the shoulder, spinning him around. The momentum was too much for the cowboy and he fell over backwards. The sheriff growled and stepped forward to stomp on him. The cowboy was acting by instinct and his right hand dragged feebly at his six-gun. It was half-way out of leather when Lindeen’s boot caught him in the ribs. Something cracked dully and the cowboy screamed, letting his gun fall, and clasping at his ribs. Lindeen kicked him in the head and knocked him unconscious.
Panting a little, the sheriff picked up the Colt and rammed it into his belt before hauling the unconscious man along the street by his shirt collar. He stopped by the other cowpoke, who was sitting up, retching. Lindeen nudged him with his boot.
“On your feet. And into the cells for the night.”
The man stumbled around and finally managed to stand. Lindeen shoved him towards the law office steps and walked after him with the unconscious man. Ten minutes later he had them both locked up in a cell and he figured the unconscious cowboy would drift into a drunken sleep and stay quiet till morning. The other would fall asleep soon, too.
In the front office, he placed the cowboy’s Colt on the edge of the desk. He hadn’t lit a lantern when he came in, figuring he wouldn’t be there for long. Besides, there was enough reflected light coming through the door from the street for him to see. He adjusted his hat and was about to move out when a shadow filled the doorway. He snapped his head up and dropped his hand to his gun butt.
Then he eased it away as he recognized Mel Huckabee.
“What the hell you want this time of night?” Lindeen demanded.
Huckabee came inside the office, his face drawn.
“Chet, I’m worried.”
Lindeen’s eyes narrowed. He knew Huckabee was closer to cracking than he had thought.
“What about?” he asked, quietly.
“The whole deal, but mainly about the books. Them Enforcers are no fools. Bannerman’s a trained accountant. He’s already asked me some questions about the land deals I can’t answer. By morning, he’s gonna know the whole thing and we’re in trouble. Even if you did manage to get that rifle back it’d be no good now.”
“What you aimin’ to do?”
Huckabee made a helpless gesture.
“Well, I’m a family man, Chet. I can’t run out on my wife and kids. Not like you. I mean, you got no one to keep you if you want to vamoose. I can’t do that.”
“I ain’t plannin’ on leavin’.”
Huckabee seemed surprised.
“I’m trying to give you warning. To give you a chance to light out.”
“Told you, I ain’t goin’ anyplace.”
Huckabee seemed more nervous than ever as he dragged down a deep, steadying breath.
“Well, the choice is yours, I guess. But—I've made mine, too.”
“Which is ... ”
“I’ve talked it over with my brother. I’ve—told him—everything.”
“You goddamn idiot.” Lindeen’s hand tightened around his gun butt and he had to make a conscious effort not to draw. Slowly, he let his fingers uncurl and placed his hand on the desk.
“I—I had to tell someone, Chet,” Huckabee said with a whine in his voice. “Anyways, we decided the best thing I can do is see the Enforcers come morning and—throw myself on their mercy.”
Lindeen stiffened.
“It—it’s the only way. I—I can try to make restitution. Bannerman’s s’posed to be a fair man. I can’t go to jail, Chet. I’ve got a wife and kids ... !”
Huckabee’s voice began to break and Lindeen’s eyes blazed as he stared at the man. Then, in unthinking rage, as his hand slipped a little on the desk and touched the cowboy’s gun, he scooped up the Colt and shot Huckabee through the heart. He staggered back and fell to the floor.
Lindeen moved quickly towards the door—as Lang Huckabee came bursting through it. The Winchester man instantly threw himself forward as Lindeen tried to bring up the smoking Colt. But Huckabee sent him crashing against the wall then went after him with fists swinging. Lindeen ducked but caught a blow on the top of the head that sent him stumbling sideways.
He still held the Colt and tried to bring it up but Huckabee grabbed his wrist and wrenched it above his head. He used his body weight to pin Lindeen and smashed the back of the man’s hand against the clapboards. Lindeen grunted at the pain but refused to release his hold on the gun. Huckabee was close against him and the lawman snapped a knee into his groin.
Lang Huckabee gagged and fell back. Lindeen pushed off the wall, clubbed him with the Colt and was just starting to notch back the hammer when the door darkened again and Bannerman and Cato came in with guns drawn.
Yancey covered the sheriff, as Cato moved towards the groaning Lang Huckabee.
“Get some light in here,” Yancey snapped.
Cato lit a lamp and Lindeen squinted as the light flooded the room. Lang Huckabee was sitting up slowly, white and breathless as Yancey set his eyes on the sheriff.
“What’s going on?”
Lindeen pointed to Lang, placing the Colt on the edge of the desk.
“He just killed his brother.”
Lang snapped up his head but was unable to speak.
“Mel came to see me late,” Lindeen continued. “He told me he was worried about you fellers goin’ through his books. He said you were on the verge of findin’ out he’d pulled some swift moves on the land deals—” Lindeen shrugged. “I put up some cash, but I never knew he’d done any fancy dealin’.”
Bannerman and Cato kept their faces straight and expressionless as they allowed him to tell his story.
“I told him best thing he could do was go see you hombres and make a clean breast of it. He said he would then admit that he’d arranged with Brett Hallam to rob the bank vault and that was why he hadn’t wanted Lang to put that special gun in overnight—I guess Lang had been waitin’ outside. ’Cause when Mel said that, Lang came chargin’ in like a loco buffalo, screamin’ murder. An’ that’s just what he done. I struggled to get the gun away from him and had just done it when you hombres arrived.”
The Enforcers digested that in silence and then looked at Lang Huckabee who was starting to stagger to his feet. He leaned against the desk groggily and pointed a wavering finger at the lawman.
“He killed Mel—to keep him from going to you fellers and confessing the lot. I’d talked Mel into doing just that, but he felt he had
to warn Lindeen first, because they were in it together. He wanted to give him a chance to get out of town. Instead, he got himself killed. I heard it all. I was waiting outside.”
Lindeen was already shaking his head long before Huckabee had finished speaking. When the Winchester man broke off the sheriff pointed to the Colt on the desk.
“That’s the gun he used. It ain’t mine. As you can see, mine’s still in my holster. He came in so fast, I didn’t even have a chance to reach for it. And you know I’m mighty slick, Bannerman. If I’d had any chance at all, I’d have gotten it out and cold-decked him.”
Yancey nodded slowly.
“I know you’re fast, Lindeen. Which makes me wonder why you didn’t try for your gun instead of jumping Huckabee and grappling with him.”
The sheriff shot Yancey a deadly look.
“Because I figured that was the best way to move at the time. You know how it is, Bannerman, at times like that. You just react instinctively.”
“Sure. My instincts tell me that yours would’ve been to drag iron.”
“You weren’t here.”
Yancey smiled crookedly.
“That I wasn’t. But a man’s dead and it’ll have to be investigated.” He turned to Lang Huckabee. “Your word against his for now. We’ll have to take you into custody.” Huckabee stiffened.
Bannerman the Enforcer 9 Page 6
