They were riding under the spreading foliage of trees, stooping under their branches. Maddox led the way forward unhesitatingly. Presently, they heard the gentle sound of water and there in front of them flowed the creek. The very creek that divided Sunset in two. They rode down into this creek and turned north.
My God, Doolittle thought, they’re really going back to town.
The thought entered his mind to spur the mule and hope that it would carry him to safety, but the thought of the little man behind him and his gun erased the idea from his mind.
They splashed their way north along the bed of the creek and their progress was very slow. A considerable time seemed to pass before Maddox led them to the left out of the water and they climbed a little. Now, Doolittle could see a few lights to his right that belonged to the town. They were within shouting distance. The little man behind must have thought the same thing.
‘One little sound,’ he said from behind Doolittle, ‘an’ my knife opens you up, Doolittle.’
They were working their way around the southern part of town, passing within gunshot of Doolittle’s own corral. He could see his own buildings lying squat in the moonlight. A few minutes later, they halted in front of an adobe beyond some trees. At Maddox’s call, a door opened and a man stepped out into the moonlight. Doolittle knew this was Pepe Peralta. He never had been any good.
Maddox stepped down from the saddle and he and the Mexican spoke together in low voices. Madder dismounted and untied Doolittle’s bonds. He was released from the saddlehorn, but his wrists were still together. He threw one leg over the saddlehorn and slid down from the saddle.
Maddox said: ‘Inside.’
A rough hand shoved Doolittle by the shoulder and he went toward the house. The Mexican went ahead of him, opened the door and led the way in. A pungent smell of bodies and spices met his nose. He blinked in the lamplight. There was a Mexican woman with two children close to her, all three looking as if they had just been roused from sleep. Doolittle knew them as he knew Peralta. He looked along the single room of the house and, on the far circle of light, he saw the pale face of the girl. He was permitted to stay there for no more than a matter of seconds, drinking in the beauty of her face. It was drawn and the eyes were large and dark in it, but he thought he had never seen a face so lovely in all his life.
It was one of those stunning moments that affect the whole of a man’s life. It was as though all his emotions and thoughts had from that .second been converted into something different. The beautiful and unwilling Lydia Carson no longer had any meaning for him. Suddenly, the thought of defeat, the thought of being finished at the hands of these men became impossible.
The girl’s eyes were not only beautiful, they were intelligent. She was, he could see, bound hand and foot. Yet she was fully aware of what was going on around her. She must have been held by these men for several days and she must have suffered in that time, yet she was fully alert. He knew that she saw at once that he was a prisoner like herself, that here was an ally.
The beginning of his relationship with this woman started in the most prosaic manner possible. His face was turned from the men behind him. He could convey to her their instant alliance in one way only. He winked.
She understood at once. She made no sign, yet he knew it.
The men were crowding into the house behind him. He was pushed forward.
Maddox strode into the lamplight.
The girl said in her light clear voice: ‘Where’re the others?’
Doolittle said in his rumbling bass: ‘Two’re dead. I killed ’em. They’re whittled down a mite, miss.’
Maddox swung on him. Some of his calm was gone.
‘You’ll keep your mouth shut, Doolittle,’ he said. ‘Understand?’
‘No sense to that, George,’ Doolittle said. ‘Pretty soon you’re goin’ to shut my mouth forever.’ That gave the girl the message of how urgent the moment was. T kinda feel I have to talk to make up for the eternity of silence, as you might say.’
He thought the girl smiled a little.
He knew he had to live. He had to get her out of the hands of these men.
Madder said: ‘Let me kill him now.’
The Mexican started to object. He didn’t want a killing here. He was in great danger with them in his house as it was. Mad-dox showed the state of his nerves, by taking the Mexican by the scruff of his neck and swinging him across the place. He hit the far wall and fell to the floor. The children started weeping and the man’s wife rushed to him.
Maddox said: ‘We’ll do it down the trail. We don’t need him anymore. We have the girl.
‘No,’ the girl said.
They turned and stared at her.
‘You keep out of this,’ Maddox said.
‘You can’t keep me out of it,’ the girl said. ‘You’ve hauled me into it. You don’t kill this man, not while I’m alive. You do it and one day I’ll tell it.’
Madder spat.
‘I seen women with their throats cut jest like men,’ he said. He leered a little.
The girl looked straight at Maddox.
‘You don’t want me dead, do you, Maddox?’ she said. ‘Your men think I’m a hostage. That’s what you told them, isn’t it? It’s a lie. He wants me for himself. He asked me to go down into Mexico with him. He’d deal me in to deal you out.’
Madder and Gaylor looked at Maddox. The man seemed stopped short. The girl had taken him by surprise.
He got a grip on himself and assumed an air of supreme calm.
‘She’s trying to set you against me, boys,’ he said. ‘She’s smart. I told you she was. You’re right, Holy. Women can die as easily as men. Why should I risk anything for her. Sure, she’s a looker. But there’re plenty of other lookers and with the money we have, they can all be bought.’
The Mexican was weeping. His wife cursed the gringos softly in Spanish.
‘So we kill the girl,’ Madder said.
‘Jesus,’ Gaylor said, licking his dry lips. ‘I don’t want any part of this, George. I draw the line at women.’
Maddox said: ‘The girl stays with us till we’re in the clear. And you, Wayne, you keep your nerve and don’t you spook till something happens. Holy, I want horses and I was them fresh and fast. Get moving.’
Madder hesitated for a moment, then he turned to the door and went out.
Doolittle said: ‘George, you must be real crazy to think you can get away with this. There’s no sense to it and I don’t believe even a hard one like you can go through with it. Heck, where does it get you? You’ll never come north of the Border in your life again.’
‘Shut it,’ Maddox snapped.
Gaylor turned to a rope bed along one wall and threw himself down on it. He looked bushed.
Doolittle showed his large strong teeth.
‘Like I said, George, I’m talkin’ while I’m able an’ there ain’t a man this side of hell can stop me. I’m goin’ to pass my last hours on earth tellin’ you all about how you’re a yellow cowardly skunk, an’ I’m a-goin’ to hint at a few more home truths I couldn’t mention plainly in front of a lady.’
Maddox said: ‘Sit down and be still, Charlie, or you’ll regret it. Go ahead now.’
Doolittle laughed.
‘I’ve known you a good few years, George,’ he said levelly, ‘an’ I always did know you were kinda sick in the head. You’re eaten up with a kinda cheap vanity that don’t set too well with me. You’ve always talked a whole heap about how you an’ your boys stuck together. You made a real grandstand play when you bust that bootlicking coyote Gaylor and the others outa jail. You fooled them, but you didn’t fool me. You done that so the posse would chase after them boys. But you don’t have the posse to reckon with, George. You have Sam Spur and Cusie Ben. They’re right on your tail. You can kill me an’ you can kill the girl, but you’ll be dead before a week’s out. ‘An’ Gaylor along with you. I don’t doubt you’ll leave Madder an’ Gaylor to get picked up first, like you
had the others killed off back yonder while you rid away safe.’
Gaylor rose on one elbow. His voice was high-pitched with agitation.
‘Shet him, George,’ he shouted, ‘or, by God, I’ll shet him for good an’ all.’
Maddox swung his eyes from one man to the other. He was tired to the bone and his temper was frayed. The calm he worked at so hard slipped and there was nothing he could do about it.
‘I’ll shut him,’ he said between his teeth and stepped toward Doolittle with his hand on his gun.
The girl screamed
‘No.’
The Mexican let out a shuddering moan and backed hard against the wall.
Maddox’s gun never cleared leather.
Charlie Doolittle kicked him in the crotch.
Maddox’s face contorted and he jack-knifed forward. As he tried to straighten up, Doolittle looped his bound wrists over his head and smashed the top of his own head into the man’s face. There was a horrible sound as the nose split. Maddox screamed.
The girl was struggling to get off the bed.
Gaylor struggled to his feet, pulling his gun from leather. He cocked it and would have fired, but Doolittle twisted Maddox and the man became a shield for him. Doolittle freed Maddox’s neck, drove his fists into the man’s chest and hurled him backward. Blindly, half-unconscious, the man strove vainly to control his movement, but he crashed backward into Gaylor and they both landed on the bed.
Doolittle, hampered as he was by his bonds, frantically followed up his initial success, leaping after them and smashing both his fists down into Maddox’s face as the man struggled to get off the bed.
The girl yelled
‘Behind.’
Doolittle whirled and, as he did so, the Mexican struck at him with a piece of wood. There was no time for amazement at this kind of treachery, for he had automatically surmised that the man was at least neutral. The wood struck his shoulder. As the Mexican crashed into him, he lifted his knee violently at the man. He heard Maddox and Gaylor come off the bed behind him and he knew that he wouldn’t last much longer. He tried to turn, but the Mexican was now hard against him, clinging to him like a limpet. He strained to throw the man off. Something struck him in the back of the neck and he stumbled forward. He and the Mexican landed in a heap on the floor.
His roped wrists made it difficult to rise easily. He braced his feet under him and strained his body forward and a boot took him under the ribs. Searing pain knifed through him and it felt as if he had a couple of ribs shattered. He twisted and managed to gain a knee, glaring up at the men above him.
‘No shooting,’ Maddox breathed.
Gaylor had his gun lifted.
‘My God,’ he said, ‘I don’t take this from any man, George.’
‘I’m not asking you to,’ Maddox said. ‘Give him steel.’
Gaylor put away his gun and reached for a knife lying on the table. He bared his teeth in a grin.
Doolittle launched himself, going in headfirst for Gaylor like a human battering ram. Maddox lunged for him and missed, stumbled on the Mexican and went down.
Doolittle caught Gaylor in the side as his hand touched the knife. The ex-sheriff was driven away from the table, strove vainly to keep his footing and went sidestepping violently across the room and hit the wall with his shoulder. He was at the head of the bed on which the girl was lying. The knife clattered to the floor. Doolittle turned, hoping to reach it. A hand darted into the circle of light and the fingers grasped the hilt. Doolittle swung his boot and caught Maddox on the side of the head.
Maddox went down, taking the knife with him.
Doolittle stamped down on the wrist and Maddox screamed. The lank man stooped, grasped the knife in his right hand and straightened up. When he turned, he saw that the girl was on her feet, tottering out of control because of her bound ankles. He saw Gaylor start forward, saw the girl fall forward. Her body caught the man’s legs below the knee and he went over her. He hit the floor hard and the wind went out of his body noisily.
Doolittle went in fast, yelling
‘Hold up your hands.’
She heard. She thrust up her bound hands. He reversed the blade, thrust it between her arms and heaved it toward him. Her wrists parted.
Maddox and Gaylor were coming off the floor. Both looked in poor shape. Doolittle stooped and slashed the girl’s ankles apart. Whirled and went straight in on Gaylor with the knife at the full stretch of both his arms. The man was once more drawing his gun. As it came out of leather, the knife took him in the shoulder. He fell back, yelling. The gun fell to the floor and Doolittle yelled: ‘The gun.’
There was no time to see if the girl reached for it. Gaylor was shouting that the bastard had knifed him. The Mexican was on his feet, a chair in his hands. Doolittle could see the sweat glistening on his round brown cheeks in the moonlight.
Maddox was standing still. He was grinning.
There was a gun in his hand and it was cocked.
Doolittle went still. He knew when his goose was cooked.
The girl said: ‘Drop the gun, Maddox, or I kill you.’
‘Sweetheart,’ the man said calmly, ‘this gun has a hair-trigger. You shoot and your friend here gets killed.’
At that moment, Gaylor came forward and struck out viciously at her. One blow struck the gun from her hand. The second knocked the girl to the floor.
The gun that hit the floor went off.
The confines of the adobe were filled with the roar of it and they all stayed still for a moment as if appalled by the noise.
Maddox said: ‘That does it. We have to get out of here. Now.’
‘I’m bleeding,’ Gaylor said.
Fury burst in Maddox.
‘Then bleed, you goddam fool,’ he shouted.
‘This will mean great trouble for me,’ Peralta complained. ‘Now the people will come looking.’
‘Where the hell’s Holy?’ Maddox demanded. He seemed at an utter loss for the moment. He looked disheveled and battered. Doolittle’s resistance had shaken him to the core.
‘Now do I get to killin’ him?’ Gaylor demanded hysterically, holding his wounded shoulder.
‘No,’ Maddox said, ‘Not now. Later. And I shall do it. This hombre is sure going to learn how a man can die. Nobody ever did this to me. Not ever.’
‘I’m like to bleed to death,’ Gaylor said.
Maddox said some rapid words in Spanish to the woman. The Mexican ordered her to obey Maddox and she came reluctantly from her corner. She righted the chair her husband had thrown down and Gaylor sat on it.
‘Drop the knife, Charlie,’ Maddox said.
Doolittle dropped the bloodstained blade to the floor. He turned and helped the girl up. There were tears in her eyes, but they weren’t caused through pain or fear. They were tears of rage. Doolittle reckoned he had found one real woman.
‘Keep away from her,’ Maddox said.
‘An army couldn’t keep me away from her,’ Doolittle said. ‘I’m a-goin’ to marry her.’
The girl’s head jerked around in amazement.
Then, even in that dire moment, her sense of humor came to her aid. Even then with the death of this man next to her not far off, and possibly her own end just around the corner, her eyes crinkled with amusement, her mouth curved in a small smile.
‘Mr. Doolittle,’ she said, ‘you are a very sudden man.’
‘Only in this instance, ma’am,’ he replied.
‘You are aware that I have been asked for.’
‘Yes’m,’ he said hardily, ‘but to be fair, that Spur don’t stand a dog’s chance against a determined character like me.’
‘At least I know where I stand.’
Maddox was gazing at them in wonderment. For once, he seemed bereft of speech.
Gaylor said: ‘A man could die from a knife-thrust like this one.’
Doolittle was saying: ‘Miz Netta, when we get outa this mess, I’m goin’ to plumb sweep you off’n your feet.’
>
Maddox tried to take charge of the situation.
‘Cut it out,’ he said. ‘From here on out, you two don’t speak to each other. Is that understood.’
‘Go fry your head,’ Doolittle said, showing off a little.
Maddox came forward and struck him in the face with the back of his left hand. He knocked the lank man back against the wall.
Netta Manson flew at him, but he was ready for her. He caught her by the wrist and swung her away from him violently. She fell over the bed. She also swore an oath that she must have picked up from an unmannerly cowhand on her spread in the Cimarron country.
Doolittle picked himself up slowly.
‘You’ll pay for that, George,’ he said quietly, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth.
Maddox said: ‘You won’t be alive to pay anybody, Charlie.’ He stopped as there came the sound of horses outside. ‘That’ll be Holy. Wayne, hurry it up, we don’t have too much time to waste. A moment later, Holy Madder entered. He looked a little excited.
‘There’s hell to pay over the horses,’ he said. ‘Best we ride.’
He looked around. His eyes widened. ‘What happened here?’
Maddox said: ‘Charlie was a little playful.’
Holy looked at Gaylor with a slight grin.
‘Looks like Wayne didn’t enjoy the fun much.’
Maddox didn’t ask what hell there was to pay over the horses. He became brisk and businesslike.
‘Tie the girl’s hands again,’ he ordered. ‘Hump yourself now, Wayne, we don’t have all night. Doolittle comes with us part of the way. He goes across a horse with his hands and feet tied under its belly. Maybe that’ll teach him not to fool around too much.’
The girl cried out: ‘You can’t do that. It’s inhuman.’
Maddox laughed with real delight.
‘Sweetheart,’ he said, ‘have you only just discovered I’m not human?’
He headed for the door.
Peralta had his hands together and out in front of him.
Gun (A Spur Western Book 8) Page 11
