Seven – Offer
Jud Landon found him in the Tophand Saloon, soaking up whisky at the bar. Yancey watched in the mirror as Landon approached and he spoke without turning around.
“Get away from me, Landon. I don’t want your company.”
The ex-Ranger breasted the bar and signaled to the barkeep to set up a drink. He sipped it, when it came and then spoke quietly.
“Lousy deal Dukes handed you.”
Yancey said nothing, didn’t even look in Landon’s direction. He hunched over his drink, looking morose.
“Lot of folk reckon you should’ve gotten the medal and money anyway,” Landon persisted. “You ran up the score, after all.”
“Could have saved myself the effort,” Yancey growled. “Thought I told you to vamoose.”
“I’m just havin’ a drink. And I really do reckon you got yourself a lousy deal, Bannerman.”
“Don’t feel sorry for me, Landon!” Yancey snapped, drinking swiftly.
“I ain’t. I just reckon it was unfair, is all. I’d feel the same no matter who was handed the short end thataway.”
Yancey merely grunted.
“You’re a hell of a fine shot, Bannerman.”
Yancey sighed, grabbed the whisky bottle and his glass and moved away to a corner table. Landon stayed at the bar, drinking slowly, using the mirror to watch Yancey. Then he glanced up as the batwings banged open and Cato came in, looking around. He spotted Yancey and headed for his table.
Yancey glanced up, his features hostile.
“Kate wants to see you,” Cato said without preamble. “Outside.” He reached down to grab Yancey’s arm and help him to his feet but Yancey pulled his arm out of his grip. “Come on, Yance. She wants to talk to you. She don’t like to see you and the governor at loggerheads.”
“She won’t have to,” Yancey snapped. “I’m pulling out of Austin in a couple of days.”
Cato looked surprised. “Hell almighty, what do you want to do that for? Judas, Yance, this is gettin’ out of hand. I figured you’d be one of the first to admit that Dukes has the right to tell his men what they can and can’t do. He just didn’t want any more public attention drawn to the Enforcers right now, not with Burdin building up his army again. He was protectin’ you, in a way.”
“He was what?”
“You heard. Your kind of score could’ve been in papers all over Texas. You reckon Burdin wouldn’t put two and two together and figure it had to be someone who could shoot as good as you set off those coffee-can bombs?”
Yancey scowled. “Hogwash! Dukes never gave that a thought. He just wanted to show he was top man, is all. And it just happens that I’ve had a bellyful of him. Been riding under his flag for too long. I need some freedom again, Johnny. A few months of drifting and doing what I like.”
“He’d have given you leave if you’d asked, Yance. Anyway, come on out and talk with Kate.”
“No. I got nothing to say. To her or anyone else.”
Cato was getting angry now. “Yance, quit drinkin’ like this and come on out and talk with her, damn it. She’s all upset and wants to straighten things out. She’s in an awkward position, between you and her father.”
“Get your hand off me, Johnny! I ain’t coming!”
Yancey stood up, knocking Cato’s reaching hand aside. He glared down at the smaller Enforcer. “Move aside, Johnny. I’m going to the bar for another bottle.” He picked up the empty bottle by the neck and there might have been a threat in the gesture. Cato’s eyes blazed and his jaw hardened. But, abruptly, he stepped aside.
“Go to hell then,” he growled, and turned and stalked out of the saloon as Yancey went to the bar and ordered another bottle of whisky.
While he waited for the barkeep to serve him, Landon sidled up closer to him. “You know, you are a dead shot, Bannerman. Better than anybody knew.”
Yancey glanced at the man briefly, then turned to pay the barkeep. As he picked up the bottle, Landon reached out and put a hand on the cork. Yancey looked at him bleakly.
“Just before you start, like you to listen to somethin’ I gotta say.”
Yancey knocked the man’s hand away from the bottle. “Not interested.”
“Might pay you to be. If you’re quittin’ Dukes like I heard you tell Cato.”
“What if I am?”
“Well, there’s a feller. He’s interested in a man like you. Someone who can shoot dead straight and who don’t mind, a little extra money fallin’ into his hands.”
Yancey showed interest briefly, then shook his head and started to move away. “I’m not interested in working for anyone for a spell, Landon.”
“At least talk it over with him. I could take you to him.”
Yancey looked at him levelly. “What’re you doing? Did he send you after me specially or are you just looking around for anyone he might be interested in?”
Landon shrugged. “Kind of—well, recruitin’, I guess. He needs a few men who ain’t afraid to take a few chances. Pays big.”
“You didn’t waste much time.”
Landon smiled crookedly. “Knew him long before I quit the Rangers. Old pards, him and me.”
“He got a name?”
“Not one I could use here. You want to come see him?”
Yancey thought about it briefly, shook his head. “No. I don’t like you, Landon, so I can’t see me likin’ any friend of yours, either.”
The ex-Ranger flushed. “No need to get riled, Bannerman!”
But Yancey had lost all interest in the man. He took the bottle back to his table and sat down. Filling his glass, he sipped slowly, staring off into space. Landon watched him, grim-faced, for a half minute, then tossed down the remains of his own drink, slapped a coin on the bar, and went out swiftly.
Yancey gave no sign that he saw him go.
~*~
By the time Yancey made his way back towards his room in the Austin House Hotel, he was feeling the effects of all the whisky he had put away.
He stumbled several times as he walked through the dark streets and once he barked his shin on some old crates.
He swore as he sat down on the edge of the boardwalk and pulled his trousers up to examine the wound. It was bleeding only a little but it sure stung. And it added a limp to his already unsteady gait.
Yancey’s head was swimming now that the cooler night air had hit him after the stuffiness of the saloons he had been in. He had left the Tophand earlier and moved on to the Longhorn where he had become entangled in an argument that had ended in a fight and he had been thrown out, literally, by a trio of huge bouncers. He couldn’t even recall what the argument was about now. He found his way to the rear of the hotel and climbed the fire-stairs, fumbled at the latch of the door on the landing and, when it opened suddenly, almost fell into the dimly lit passage. Yancey picked himself up, made his way down to his room, and fumbled out his key. He was sober enough not to throw open the door and walk in; the precaution of pushing doors back and entering warily had been with him for so long that he did it naturally, even in his less-than-sober state.
But no guns roared out of the darkness and he kicked the door closed, stumbled across the room and managed to light a vesta and touch the flame to the wick of a table lantern. He stepped back, right hand sweeping his Colt up out of leather and snapping it up into line with something like his usual speed. Then he frowned and blinked in the light as he saw the person sitting across the room was Kate Dukes. Her face was concerned as she stood up and came across towards him.
“Could’ve gotten yourself killed,” he muttered, as he holstered his gun.
“The state you’re in, you couldn’t hit the side of this hotel from across the street,” she said tightly. “Here, sit down, Yancey, and let me make you some coffee or send out for some.”
He brushed her hand aside. “Don’t want any,” he slurred. “What are you doin’ here? Didn’t Johnny give you my message?”
“Yes, he did. And I know you were bitt
er about what happened, Yancey. That’s why I came here to wait for you. I want to try to straighten things out between you and dad. Neither of you is behaving rationally. What is it? What’s happened to you both?”
Yancey shrugged. “Your old man happened, that’s what. I spend weeks designin’ and buildin’ Ironsite, trainin’ men for him, workin’ night and day. Then, when I want some relaxation and a chance to show him just how good I can shoot, he won’t let me. Then, even after I prove I’m the best shot in Texas, he makes a fool of me in front of half of Austin’s population!” He laughed briefly. “And you ask me what’s wrong!”
The girl was frowning. “I know dad’s been feeling unwell lately and he often behaves a little irrationally when he has constant angina pain ...”
“Don’t make excuses for him!” Yancey snapped, cutting in.
Kate’s face tightened. “It’s the truth, not an excuse!” she retorted. Then she took a steadying breath. “But you, Yancey. You’ve never bothered about showing off your prowess before. Why was it suddenly so important for you to win that contest?”
“It was a break in the monotony, damn it! Something I could’ve gotten interested in for a spell, and did get interested in. But your father killed any good that came out of it.”
Kate shook her head bewilderedly. “I feel there’s something here that I don’t understand. Something about the pair of you. Is there some sort of reason behind your behavior, Yancey? Is that it? Something I shouldn’t know about?”
Yancey took off his hat and threw it across the room angrily. “Damn it, Kate, I’m in no mood for this kind of thing! Just let me be for a spell, huh? Go on home and let me figure things out. Just go, damn it.” He looked around and headed for the sideboard. “I need a drink.”
Kate tried to head him off but he thrust her roughly aside and she staggered halfway across the room. Angry and shocked, she spun about, but he was already rummaging in the sideboard looking for a bottle. Her eyes suddenly began to fill with tears.
“Yancey! Don’t do this, please!”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he cursed, still looking for his bottle of liquor. She might as well have not been in the room and Kate realized this. It hurt, badly. She bit at her bottom lip, and hurried out, slamming the door after her. Yancey looked up, frowned at the door still trembling in its frame, then closed the sideboard door. He rubbed a hand down his sweating face, went to the washstand and poured water into the bowl from the big jug. He stripped to the waist, sluiced cold water into his face and over his upper body. He was drying himself on a towel, feeling a little more sober now, when there was a rap on the door.
Yancey sighed. Damn women! Couldn’t they ever leave a man be when he wanted them to! He strode across the room and yanked open the door, his lips already framing the words to tell Kate that he had nothing more to say. But the words were never uttered.
He froze as he looked down the muzzles of three six-guns.
The first one was held in the steady hand of the grinning Jud Landon.
“Back up, Bannerman,” he said, shoving Yancey in the chest and pushing the Enforcer into the room. He stepped in swiftly, followed by the two men with him. Landon kicked the door closed still grinning as Yancey slowly lifted his hands shoulder high. “We ain’t finished our talk, mister.”
“We have,” Yancey told him
Landon shook his head. “No. You and me mightn’t have any more to say, but these fellers aim to take you to see that friend of mine and you can talk to him.” He gestured to the two gunmen. “Meet Lee Darren and Matt Steed, Bannerman.”
Yancey’s face was expressionless as he looked at Sam Burdin’s two top guns.
~*~
Cato awoke to a hammering on the door of his room. He had been sleeping in a room in the mansion on Capitol Hill since he had been working on the weapons for the new Enforcers and he sat up groggily, reaching for the Manstopper. Then logic told him that there was little danger here: there were too many armed guards around the building for any enemy to break through and then come hammering on his door.
He got out of bed and took the gun with him, hammer cocked, thumb ready to swing the toggle across to the shot-barrel if necessary. He turned up the low-burning oil lamp and opened the door slowly.
It was Kate Dukes. She looked a little disheveled and was breathing fast as if she had run or ridden fast.
“Let me in please, John,” she said, pushing past him.
Cato arched his eyebrows and eased the door closed, lowering the gun hammer as he followed the girl into the room. She was agitated as she turned to face him.
“John, I think Yancey’s in trouble.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me any,” Cato said a little tightly. “He’s been spoilin’ for trouble a lot lately. Can savvy it in part, but he ought to ...”
“No, no, not the usual kind of thing; a brawl or anything like that,” interrupted Kate. “I—I went to see him. I wanted to try to patch up the differences between him and dad. Tried to make him see dad’s side of things. He wouldn’t listen, practically threw me out of his room. In fact, he did throw me out.”
Cato frowned. “Now I know there’s somethin’ loco goin’ on,” he breathed. “Yance wouldn’t do that, no matter what. He’s up to somethin’, Kate.”
“Well, up to something or not, he pushed me out and refused to talk to me. I—I stood in the passage a while making up my mind whether to try again, then decided against it. I felt pretty despondent, John, and I took my time walking away from the hotel. I paused to look back once, to make sure Yancey wasn’t coming after me. That was when I saw the three men going in.”
“What three men? Goin’ into the hotel, you mean?”
“Yes. And one of them was Jud Landon.”
Cato frowned, his eyes narrowing. “You recognize the other two?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve never seen either of them before, but one man I’m positive I’ve seen on a Wanted dodger. One of Sam Burdin’s men. I think his name’s Barron.”
“Darren,” Cato corrected her. “Could it be Lee Darren?”
“Tall, lantern-jawed, lank hair, moves rather awkwardly, a sort of gangling shamble.”
“That’s Darren.” Cato was really alert now. “What happened?”
“I waited and after a while they came out, all gathered closely around Yancey. I’m sure they had a gun on him, John! They went into an alley and then I heard the horses. They rode out of town to the east.”
“Right, Kate. You did right comin’ to me. Yancey’s in trouble, for sure, if he’s been taken off by Darren and Landon. Somethin’ queer is goin’ on. You better tell the governor. I’ll get my horse and see if I can pick up their trail.”
She stopped him as he went to open the door for her. “Do you want dad to send the Rangers with you? Or the new Enforcers?”
He shook his head. “I can work faster and better alone. But I got to get movin’, Kate.”
She nodded and hurried out and Cato moved around swiftly, gathering up his gear. He quit Capitol Hill within twenty minutes of the girl leaving and set out along the eastern trail from Austin. He hit the rise and reined down, figuring he ought to pick up the riders on the flats below in the moonlight.
But there was no sign of them. He moved his gaze slowly over the silver-washed plains, examining the deep shadows cast by woods and rocks. He looked at the river ford that gleamed back with a mirror surface in the moonlight, undisturbed. Cato swore. They must have swung away on one of the other side trails. Which meant he would have to wait until daylight to see if he could pick up their tracks. He climbed down from his saddle and prepared to make a temporary camp for the night.
~*~
Burdin looked up as Yancey was shoved into the room in the crude cabin. The Enforcer staggered and grabbed at the edge of the table in front of Burdin, straightening, meeting the man’s cold stare levelly.
“So you’re Bannerman,” Burdin growled. He nodded at Matt Steed, Landon and Darren. “Good work, Lee, you and
Landon better go watch the back trail, just in case.”
“No one followed us, Sam,” Landon said confidently, but he paled as Burdin, shot him a murderous look and he nodded jerkily, “Yeah, sure, Sam. Come on, Darren.”
They went out and Yancey looked at the man who stood beside Burdin’s chair.
“Long time, Meeker,” he said to the outlaw.
“This is the first time it’s been a pleasure to see you. Bannerman,” Luke Meeker replied.
“You think so?”
Meeker merely grinned crookedly.
“Hear you’re a pretty fair shot, Bannerman,” Burdin said conversationally.
Yancey shrugged. “I didn’t win the Texas Day target shoot.”
Burdin grinned crookedly. “What you mean is, you won. But Dukes wouldn’t give you the prize.”
Yancey clamped his lips together tightly, said nothing.
Burdin laughed shortly. “Lousy deal. Enough to turn a man off the governor, even if he did work for him for quite a spell. As a top man. But something’ like that’d change a man right away, I guess, make him hate the governor’s guts, huh?”
“That and other things. They’ve been building-up. The target shoot was just the last straw.”
“What other things?”
Yancey shrugged. “Doing office work; training men; sticking around Austin when I wanted to get into some action. Then he refused to let me enter that shoot.”
“But you said to hell with it, and used another name and took the honors. Only you didn’t collect the cash, huh?”
Yancey nodded. “But you didn’t bring me here for that, Burdin.”
“You’re right. Brought you here for a couple of reasons. Tell me first, though, do you reckon you could find your way back out of this river canyon?”
“Not without help. Unless I had a week or so to do it in. Might manage it then.”
Burdin bared his teeth. It was too tight to be called a grin. “Figure it’s harder to find than that canyon in the Sierra Blancas?”
Yancey tensed. “What canyon’s that?” he asked warily.
Burdin’s lips curled and he suddenly lunged across the table and backhanded Yancey across the mouth. The Enforcer staggered backwards, mouth bleeding, ears ringing, tears of pain stinging his eyes. Burdin came around the table fast and Meeker and Steed covered Yancey with their six-guns as the Enforcer straightened. Burdin stepped in fast and slammed a massive fist into Yancey’s midriff before he could straighten fully. Yancey grunted and doubled up. Burdin snapped a knee up into his face and sent him crashing back against the wall. Then he stepped in and hammered Yancey back and forth across the face, until he fell to his knees. He kicked him in the stomach and Yancey writhed on the floor. Burdin stood over him, breathing hard, face ugly with hate.
Bannerman the Enforcer 7 Page 8
