by Tell Cotten
“We’re going to get our hotel back,” I announced.
Brian looked up, surprised.
“How?”
“Easy,” I laughed, but not humorously. “We’ll just shoot everybody that deserves it.”
“That won’t get our hotel back,” Brian pointed out.
“Mebbe not, but it’ll sure make me feel better.”
Brian looked thoughtful as he took another swig of coffee. Meanwhile, I refilled my cup and leaned back. Several minutes passed, and I looked at Brian and grinned wolfishly.
“Well, it can’t possibly get any worse,” I said. “We have nothing else to lose.”
“We’re still alive, ain’t we?” Brian disagreed.
“For now,” I agreed.
Chapter thirty-three
Brock didn’t like having to stay at the ranch, and he was anxious to do something.
Ike and the others rode in midafternoon, and Butch told him and Amos about going to Bronc.
Brock was pleased. He talked it over with Amos, and they agreed to leave now. They packed two mules with the rifles, saddled their horses, and packed a few belongings.
It was late afternoon when they rode out, and Brock figured they could travel at least four or five miles before they had to make camp.
Brock led one of the mules, and Amos led the other one. They found a cow trail that went north, and they followed it in a slow trot.
The country was open, with small rolling hills. They made good time, even with the mules.
Brock’s mule started limping about an hour before dark. They went a bit further, but then he started limping even worse.
They dismounted, and already Brock could see the swelling in the back ankle. He cursed softly as he thought the situation over.
“That mule isn’t making this trip,” Amos commented as he peered down at the ankle.
Brock nodded sourly.
“Are we going back to the ranch?” Amos asked.
“No, we’d lose too much time.”
“So what are we going to do?”
Brock gestured to some cliffs that were to the west.
“There’s a run down little ranch on the other side of those cliffs. It’s run by a bunch of Mexicans. They should have a mule.”
“Do you think they’ll trade for a crippled mule?” Amos looked doubtful.
Brock didn’t answer. Instead, he just grinned wolfishly.
Chapter thirty-four
We woke with the bright sun shining in our faces. It was late, long after sunup, but we didn’t mind. We were in no hurry to go anywhere.
We rolled up our bedrolls, and then we stirred the coals, boiled some coffee, and sat around the fire.
Even after a night’s sleep I still felt drained and discouraged, and I could tell that Brian felt the same way.
We just sat there until late morning.
I had just built the fire back up when we heard a noise. It was the sound of a horse, and it was coming closer.
I glanced at Brian. Without a word, he grabbed his rifle while I drew my Colt. We backed into some bushes and waited.
“Hello the camp!” A yell sounded out.
“Who’s out there?” I replied.
“Ross Stewart. Can I come in?”
I frowned distastefully. I wanted to say no, but instead I yelled, “Come on in if you want.”
Brian and I returned to the fire, and we watched quietly as Ross rode in.
He looked timid and nervous. He flashed us a shaky grin, but neither Brian nor I returned it.
“What are you doing here?” I asked in a gruff voice.
“Looking for you,” Ross replied. “I figured you would camp by the creek, so I’ve been following it.”
“Why find us?” I asked.
Ross didn’t reply. Instead, he sat on his horse and studied us.
“You’re both upset,” he finally commented.
“Is it obvious?”
“I don’t blame you,” Ross said. “And I feel bad. I really do. But you know how Ike is. Everything appeared legal. My hands were tied.”
“You rode all the way out here just to say that?” I scowled.
“Partly,” he replied. “I’ve also got some news.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“Do you know Miguel Ortiz?”
I thought for a moment.
“Sure. He lives to the north.”
“He rode into town this morning all upset. He says two men stole one of his mules last night.”
“Why does this concern us?”
“Miguel said that it was two big men, and one of them had red hair. They rode up to the corrals with a lame mule. One of them covered the house with his rifle while the other one switched out the mules. They left the crippled mule in the corral.”
I frowned thoughtfully.
“You think it was Brock and Amos?”
“The description fits.”
“Are you going after them?”
“No, I’ve got to stay in town,” Ross replied. “But, I thought you two might be interested.”
“We are,” I said, and I glanced at Brian. He nodded, so I looked back at Ross. “We’ll go take a look.”
“That’ll be fine.”
It fell silent then, and Ross looked uncomfortable.
“I’d better get back to town,” he finally said.
We nodded, but didn’t say anything.
“I’m sorry about what happened,” Ross tried again. “If I could have done something, I would have. I hope you know that.”
We nodded again, and Ross frowned and kicked up his horse.
We didn’t say anything as we watched him ride out.
Chapter thirty-five
We packed up camp, saddled our horses, and headed north. It was only a few miles to Miguel’s ranch, and we arrived early afternoon.
The ranch headquarters was old and run down. We met Miguel at the barn, and he was still upset and excited. We had to listen as he told us the story again, and he led us to the corrals and showed us the tracks.
I dismounted and studied the ground. After a moment I was able to confirm that there had been two of them, and the tracks left out going northwest.
“Do you think it’s them?” Brian asked me.
“Only one way to find out,” I replied. I stepped back into the saddle and looked at Miguel. “We’ll find your mule, amigo.”
He thanked us, and we left out. The tracks were easy to follow, and we trotted in a brisk trot.
We went a few miles, and then we rode up to where they had camped. We looked around a bit and pushed on.
“Those mules are slowing them down some,” I said as I studied the tracks. “We should catch them tonight.”
“What will we do then?” Brian wanted to know.
“We’ll get some answers.”
Brian frowned thoughtfully and nodded in response.
***
By late afternoon the tracks started getting fresh, and they turned to the north a bit. There was a steep cliff up ahead, and we slowed our pace as we climbed it.
We could see a long ways from the top of the cliff, so we pulled up and studied the landscape.
The country in front of us flattened out. There were a few trees scattered about, but other than that there wasn’t much cover.
I turned in the saddle, dug in my saddlebags, and pulled out my eyeglass. I took my time as I studied the skyline.
Suddenly, I sat up straight in the saddle.
“I see them,” I said softly as I squinted through the eyeglass. “I can’t tell for sure, but it looks like they’re making camp.”
“Can you tell if its Brock and Amos?”
“No, they’re too far out.”
“So what’s the plan?”
I pinched my face in thought.
“It’d be to our advantage if we could surprise them.”
“Probably so,” Brian agreed.
“It’s too open down there,” I reasoned, and then I glanced at
the sun. “It’ll be dark soon, so we’ll wait and ride up closer. Then we’ll walk up on foot.”
Brian nodded, and it fell silent.
We dismounted and sat in some shade. I smoked a cigar to pass the time, and for some reason I kept thinking about April. That made me irritable, and by dark I was restless and ready to move.
We climbed into the saddle and nudged our horses forward. We went about a mile, and we spotted the glow of a campfire in the distance.
“There they are,” I pointed.
Brian nodded, and we rode on.
We finally came to some trees that were scattered around an old lakebed. We dismounted and tied our horses in amongst the trees, and then we checked our weapons. We both had Colts, but Brian also carried his Henry rifle.
“You ready?” I asked softly.
Brian nodded, so we walked towards the camp.
“When the shooting starts, I’ll take Brock and you take Amos,” I said.
“You watch Brock,” Brian warned. “He’s really good with that Colt of his.”
“I’m good too,” I reminded, “but you’re just used to me.”
Chapter thirty-six
I could smell something cooking as we got closer, and I could also smell some coffee.
My gun hand hovered naturally over my Colt handle, and Brian carried his rifle in the crook of his arm. I heard a soft click as he pulled the hammer back.
I felt a coldness coming over me. I thought of the hotel we’d lost, and for some reason April and June’s face flashed before me. I was suddenly irritable, but I also felt a hard, lonely feeling in the pit of my stomach.
They heard us coming. They stood and backed into the darkness, and as they did I recognized Brock and Amos.
“It’s them,” I said softly, and Brian nodded.
“Who’s out there?” I heard Brock’s voice.
“Lee Mattingly and Brian Clark,” I replied curtly. “We’re coming in.”
I heard a low, amused chuckle.
“Come on in!”
They returned to the fire, and we walked up and stopped about thirty feet from them. Brock stood in front of me, and it was silent as everybody studied each other.
I took a quick look around their camp. They had two mules picketed beside their horses, and I also spotted four crates stacked on the ground.
I looked back at Brock, and a wolfish smile had appeared on his face.
“I’m not in the mood to wave at the angels tonight,” he said, and his voice was thick with sarcasm.
“I don’t mind that one bit,” I replied.
Brock snorted, and asked, “How’d you find us?”
“Miguel. He wants his mule back.”
Brock laughed at that, and I glanced at Amos.
His face was tight and drawn. There was also a prideful look in his expression, like he was itching to boast.
I decided to give him a chance.
“I take it you work for Ike,” I said in a flat voice.
“That’s right. I have been from the start,” he scoffed.
“And it was you two that robbed us,” I encouraged.
“That was the plan,” Amos said, and then he laughed.
“Who broke into the safe?” I prodded for more information.
“I did,” Amos boasted. “That’s why Ike hired me. There isn’t a safe invented that I can’t crack.”
“And it was also you that attacked me,” I said.
Amos nodded, and added, “I enjoyed that too.”
“I bet you did,” I forced a smile.
“Why are you here, Lee?” Brock spoke back up and changed the subject.
“I told you; Miguel wants his mule back. You boys stole him, so I’m taking you two back to town. You also just confessed to robbing our hotel.”
“And if we don’t go back?”
I smiled in response.
Brock grunted. He glanced at Amos and looked back at me.
“You’re good, but you ain’t as good as me,” he said.
“What’s in the crates?” I asked as I ignored his comment.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Brock sneered.
“As a matter of fact, I would.”
“There’s only one way you’re going to find that out.”
“All right then,” I nodded.
Brock was enjoying himself, and he took his time. I watched him closely as he faced up to me, and his eyes were hard.
“I’ve never liked you,” he said.
“Funny, I’ve never liked you.”
“Let’s see who’s the best,” Brock said, and he grabbed for his Colt.
I jumped forward. My arm flexed, and my Colt was in my hand. I aimed effortlessly and pulled the trigger. Flame and smoke exploded from the barrel, and I heard a thumping sound as my bullet hit flesh.
Brock had fired too, but my slight movement forward threw his aim off. I felt the sharp whip of a bullet as it fanned air close to my head, and then I saw Brock stagger backwards. He fell on his back, kicked out, and was still.
Meanwhile, the roar of gunfire was all around me. I glanced sideways, and Brian stood there with his rifle in his hands. He had a wild look on his face, and his arm bled from a slug that had creased him.
Amos lay on the ground, choking and gasping for air.
“You all right?” I asked Brian.
He nodded.
“He nicked me, that’s all.”
I nodded, relieved, and we both reloaded our weapons. Then, we checked on the downed men.
Brock was dead. However, Amos was still alive, but not for long. Blood was choking him, and it ran out his mouth and down his cheek.
Brian and I squatted on our heels beside him.
“Help me, please,” Amos managed.
“Not much we can do,” I said as I studied the wounds. “You’ve got a bullet in your gut and another one in your chest.”
“I’m dying,” Amos whispered, and his eyes were wide with fright.
“Looks like it,” I agreed. It was silent, and I added, “You might as well answer a few questions. Where were you and Brock headed?”
Amos stared at me. A few seconds passed, and then his face relaxed.
“Bronc,” he said in a gasping whisper. “There’s rifles in the crates. We’re supposed to meet the Gant brothers.”
“Morgan and Boyle Gant?”
“Yes. They’re Ike’s partners.”
“And they’re trading rifles to the Injuns,” I figured, and Amos nodded.
I glanced thoughtfully at Brian and looked back at Amos. I started to ask another question, but then I stopped. His eyes had glazed over, and he was dead.
“Well,” I said as I stood. “That’s that.”
Chapter thirty-seven
Brian’s arm bled a little, but not bad. I had some bandages in my saddlebags, and I wrapped his arm good and tight.
After that we picketed our horses next to theirs, dug our cups out of our saddlebags, and walked over to the fire.
They had cooked some fried salt pork and biscuits. The biscuits were burned black, but the pork was still edible. We tossed the biscuits into the bushes, poured us some coffee, and sat round the fire and chewed on the pork.
We didn’t feel like talking much, so we ate in silence.
I always felt exhausted after a gunfight, and I also got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I glanced at Brian, and I could tell that he felt the same way.
“Well, we got the fellers that robbed us,” Brian finally said.
“We did,” I nodded.
“But this won’t get our hotel back.”
“No, it won’t,” I agreed.
“I wonder what happened to our money?”
“Ike probably has it.”
Brian nodded and looked around camp.
“What are we going to do now?” He asked.
“I’ve been pondering that,” I said. “You heard what Amos said. They were on their way to Bronc to meet Morgan and Boyle.”
; “I heard that, yes.”
“I know Morgan. He’s a smart, educated feller, but he’s no good. He almost killed me once.”
“I’ve heard of them, but I’ve never met ’em.”
“They’ll have a long wait before they figure out that Brock and Amos aren’t coming,” I said, and I smiled at the thought.
“They probably will.”
“It would be a shame to keep them waiting,” I commented.
Brian looked at me over the rim of his coffee cup.
“What are you getting at?”
“Ike stole our business,” I said, and suggested, “Why don’t we steal his?”
Brian pinched his face in thought.
“That won’t get our hotel back either,” he pointed out.
“True,” I agreed, and then I started to add, “But, it’ll-.”
“Make you feel better,” Brian interrupted.
“That’s right.”
Brian gestured at Amos and Brock.
“You said killing them would make you feel better too. Did it?”
“Not yet,” I admitted.
“It’s a long ride to Bronc,” Brian objected.
“It is,” I agreed.
It was silent then. A few minutes passed, and we both drank several cups of coffee.
Finally, Brian sighed.
“You’re going to Bronc with or without me, aren’t you?”
“I reckon so.”
“And there’s no way I can talk you out of it?”
“Probably not.”
Brian studied me a moment and sighed.
“Fine,” he muttered. “I’ll ride along then.”
I smiled and nodded.
“What about April?” Brian asked suddenly, and the mention of her name made me jump.
“What about her?”
“Should we ride back to town and tell her we’ll be gone for a while? You told her we’d be around.”
I was startled by the question, and I frowned irritably to cover my surprise.
“Why would I do that?”
“I thought you, her, and June were getting along pretty good.”
“We were friends.”
“It seemed like more than that to me.”
