Way with a Gun

by J. R. Roberts

  “Sheriff,” Ned Pine said.

  “Ned,” Taylor said.

  “I came back, like I said I would.”

  “I see,” Taylor said. “Brought a lot of fellas with you, didn’t you?”

  “These boys?” Ned asked. “They’re just friends of mine. They got nothin’ ta do with you and me. They’re just gonna have a few drinks, get some rooms, and relax.”

  “That’s fine,” Taylor said. “Won’t have any trouble as long as they watch themselves.”

  “Fine,” Pine said. “Let ’em through, then we can finish our business.”

  Taylor wasn’t sure this was the way it was supposed to go. He and Clint wanted Pine and his men all in the square in front of City Hall. If they split up . . .

  “Sure, Ned, sure,” Taylor said. “They can pass.”

  He stepped aside and the riders filed by, leaving a cloud of dust behind them. When the dust settled, it was just Sheriff Taylor and Ned Pine there.

  Clint was waiting in front of City Hall, and was surprised when a string of riders went right by. He watched as they continued on down the street, toward the bank.

  The bank.

  Clint turned and ran over to where Winston was standing, looking miserable.

  “Winston, get across the street and pull Delaney and Kale off the roof.”

  The big man frowned,

  “The bank,” Clint said, “those men are heading for the bank! I’ll get Ransom. We’ve got to get over there.”

  Winston looked like he wanted to say something, but he couldn’t open his mouth.

  “Just go!” Clint shouted.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  “Why does it take thirteen men to rob a bank?” Ransom asked Clint.

  “Maybe because Ned knew we’d notice them.”

  “He wants us to catch them at it?”

  “I don’t know,” Clint said. “I’m just assuming that sending thirteen men to rob one bank is kind of obvious.”

  “So what do we do?” Kale asked. “There’s five of us and thirteen of them.”

  “We have to move fast,” Clint said. “They can’t all get inside the bank, so we take the ones outside first, and then the ones inside.”

  “What if the ones inside grab hostages?” Delaney asked.

  “We’ll have to deal with that if it happens.”

  “And what about the sheriff?” Ransom asked. “He’s facing Ned.”

  “He’s going to have to do that alone,” Clint said. “After all, it is his job.”

  “Okay,” Ransom said, “so how do we do this?”

  They were a block from the bank. Clint said, “I’m still thinking. ”

  Pine sat his horse, stared down at the sheriff.

  “I can step down and we can do this here,” he said. “Or did you have someplace else in mind?”

  Of course Taylor did have someplace else in mind, but that obviously was not going to work. He looked around, though, and it didn’t appear that Pine had any backup. Was it really going to be mano a mano?

  “Come ahead, Ned,” Taylor said finally. “Step down and let’s do this.”

  At the bank, the cousins dismounted and Rafe took charge.

  “Zeke and Del, inside with us. The rest of you stay out here.”

  “What do we do out here?” one man asked.

  “Hold the horses. Make sure they don’t get skittish and run off.”

  Another man looked around and said, “This is pretty obvious, Rafe.”

  “It don’t matter,” Rafe said. “There’s no law to speak of, and nobody else is gonna go against us. Ned’s got it all figured. Just stay out here and wait—and keep a sharp eye out.”

  “For what?” the man asked. “You just told us—”

  “Just stay here!”

  Rafe led his cousins and the other two men into the bank, where they brandished their guns and he shouted, “This is a holdup!”

  When they reached the bank, the scene was ridiculous. There were more than a dozen horses in front of the building, and people were clearing the streets.

  “Wow,” Ransom said, “this is . . .”

  “I know,” Clint said. “Look, there’s about half a dozen of them outside holding the horses.”

  “That puts half a dozen inside.” Ransom said.

  “They figure Ned’s keeping the sheriff busy and there’s nobody else to oppose them.”

  “So we got a surprise for them,” Kale said.

  “Yes,” Clint said, “and we have to spring it on them fast.”

  Clint decided they had to take the robbers inside and out at the same time.

  “How do we do that?” Kale asked.

  “Ransom and I are going inside through the back door,” he said. “You three will stay out here and catch them in a cross fire. It’s the same plan, different place.” He pointed. “There are enough high buildings here. Get up high and as soon as you’re in position, take them.”

  “We don’t wait for some kind of a signal from you?” Kale asked.

  “This has all gotta go fast, Kale,” Clint said. “It might not even work. We have no time for signals. Get up high and start shooting.”

  Kale, Delaney, and Winston went off to find their high points.

  “You and me, inside the bank,” Ransom said, checking his gun.

  Clint did the same. “You up for this?” he asked.

  “Three-to-one odds?” Ransom asked. “We got them right where we want ’em.”

  Clint smiled and said, “Yeah, you’re ready.”

  THIRTY-NINE

  Pine dismounted, dropped his reins, and pushed his horse away. The animal trotted off about twenty feet before stopping.

  “You look surprised, Sheriff,” Pine said. “Did you think I’d bring help for this?”

  “I wasn’t sure, Ned,” Taylor said. “This will be my first time finding out if you have any courage or integrity.”

  “I don’t know what that last one is,” Pine said, “but I got courage. You’re gonna find out.”

  Pine spread his legs, dropped his hand down near his gun. Taylor did the same.

  “Count it off, Sheriff,” Pine said. “We’ll go on three.”

  Taylor was about to count when suddenly he heard the sound of shots from behind him in the distance— probably from the center of town. He didn’t turn, just stared at Pine.

  “That’d be my boys,” Pine said, “takin’ the bank while I keep you busy.”

  “You’d rob the bank in your own hometown?” Taylor asked. “Take money from your neighbors?”

  “I hate this town, Sheriff,” Pine said. “Today they’re gonna find out just how much. And it all starts with you.”

  “Ned—”

  Pine didn’t wait for a count. He went for his gun. . . .

  Clint and Ransom worked their way around to the rear of the bank. As they were in the alley right alongside and almost at the rear, Ransom said, “Uh-oh.”

  “Uh-oh what?” Clint asked, turning to look at him. “I hate uh-oh.”

  “Well, I just remembered,” Ransom said.

  “Remembered what?”

  “Bank ain’t got no back door.”

  “Jesus, now you remember?”

  “Got a back window, though.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “I was hired once as a guard,” the younger man said. “Didn’t last long, but I know the layout.”

  “Where’s the window lead to?”

  “A back room.”

  “Will they hear us if we break the window?”

  “They might,” Ransom said. “Depends on how much noise they’re makin’.”

  “Okay,” Clint said, “let’s keep going.”

  Inside the bank, Zeke and Del had the employees back against a wall while the cousins were going from window to window, emptying cash drawers.

  “What about the safe?” Lew asked. “Ned said to make sure and get the safe.”

  “Get the manager and bring him over here,” Rafe said. �
�He’ll open the safe for us.”

  “I wonder what’s goin’ on outside,” Festus said.

  “Nothin’,” Rafe said. “If somethin’ was wrong we’d hear shootin’. Now let’s get this thing done before—”

  Rafe was cut off by the sound of shots from outside. His brother, two cousins, and the two other men all looked at him, and then at each other.

  “Shit,” Rafe said.

  Clint and Ransom reached the window of the back room in the bank.

  “Why’s this bank got a back room anyway?” Clint asked.

  “It used to be a general store.”

  Clint looked at Ransom. “Is the door to this going to be locked?”

  “More than likely,” Ransom said. “Wouldn’t be too smart to leave it unlocked.”

  Clint sighed, then said, “Let’s try this window.”

  They couldn’t budge it. It was either locked or stuck.

  “We’re going to have to break it,” Clint said, “and hope they don’t hear us inside.”

  “I’ll do it,” Ransom said.

  “Why—”

  “We don’t have time to argue,” Ransom said. “I’ve broken into places before, all right?”

  With a sweeping gesture of his arm, Clint said, “Be my guest.”

  Ransom took out his gun and without bothering to reverse it, smashed the window low in one corner. Clint was surprised at how quiet it was. Ransom had made an opening just big enough to stick his hand in, unlock the window, and slide it open.

  “You have done this before,” Clint said, and they climbed in just as the shots sounded from the front.

  Winston obeyed Clint’s orders to the letter. Unfortunately, he was the first one to reach a rooftop because he simply moved faster than Kale and Delaney. As soon as he got to the roof, he made his way to the front, crouched down, sighted down the barrel of his rifle, picked out his target, and fired. He was very good with a rifle, so the man went down, killed by a head shot. The other men reacted immediately, produced their weapons, and started looking around for where the shot had come from. A couple of them mistakenly targeted a rooftop and began to fire. Winston took the opportunity to fire again, killing another man, but now they had him located and fired back. A hail of lead drove him down beneath the roof ledge, and he was virtually pinned down until Kale or Delaney could start firing.

  Winston wondered when that would be.

  Kale had chosen the wrong building and had found the roof hatch not only locked, but wedged shut. He had to run back down and find another building.

  Delaney, in his haste to get to the roof, took a misstep, twisted his ankle, and was hobbled. Slowly, painfully, he continued his climb.

  Clint and Ransom ran to the door of the back room that led to the bank itself as the shots from outside continued. As they’d figured, it was locked. They couldn’t break it down with their shoulders because it opened inward, not out, so Clint backed up and fired two shots at the doorknob, shattering the lock.

  The element of surprise gone, they rushed into the bank anyway.

  Taylor reacted as soon as Pine’s hand streaked to his weapon. The younger man was faster, of that there was no doubt, but Taylor was more accurate. Pine’s first shot went wide, and even as he adjusted and began to squeeze off his second shot, Taylor killed him. Drilled him dead center in the chest. Pine’s finger never pulled the trigger a second time.

  Taylor turned and ran back toward the center of town as the barrage of shots from there continued.

  FORTY

  Kale finally reached a rooftop, got to the front, and saw the bank robbers all firing in the same direction. He had no way of knowing who was pinned down, Delaney or Winston, but it didn’t matter. He raised his rifle and fired as quickly as he could, successfully attracting the attention of some of the men on the street.

  Winston moved in a crouch to another place on the roof, stood up, and started firing again. He knew he had help now, he could hear it, and could see the men on the street turning in another direction. If the third man—Kale or Delaney—joined in, he could see that they would successfully have the bank robbers trapped.

  Delaney dragged his foot painfully to the edge of his roof, gratefully sank down to one knee, thereby taking the weight off his ankle, and joined the fray.

  When Sheriff Taylor came within sight of the bank, he saw the bank robbers shooting up at the rooftops. Somehow, Clint had gotten up onto the roofs with Ransom and the others. It was a good move, but what about inside the bank?

  He figured he had to try to get into the bank while robbers on the street were engaged. It helped that there were better than a dozen horses, but almost at once some of them broke away and ran off down the street.

  He drew his gun and waded in.

  The men on the ground were taking the worst of it and knew it. When some of the horses ran off loose, a few of the men decided they’d had it. They tried to mount up on the remaining horses and ride off, but were picked off from above.

  Taylor moved in closer, slid between two horses, barely avoided being stepped on, and made it to the boardwalk. As he did, one of the robbers spotted his badge, turned, and pointed his rifle. Taylor fired, but as his bullet struck the man in the chest, the bank robber’s finger jerked the trigger. The shot missed anything vital, but hit Taylor in the right thigh. He staggered, almost fell, but kept his feet and made for the front door of the bank.

  Inside the bank, Clint and Ransom came out of the back room, guns ready, but there was no action readily available. They were in a hallway, and it appeared that with all the shooting outside, their arrival—breaking the glass, shooting the door lock—had gone unnoticed.

  “Come on, come on,” someone was shouting, “get the safe.”

  “Let’s take what we got and get out,” someone else said.

  “Ned would kill us!”

  “I’m thinkin’ Ned set us up, Rafe. We gotta get outta here!”

  “Rafe’s a cousin,” Ransom said to Clint.

  “Well, whatever he is, we’ve got to stop them.”

  “How?”

  “Only one way.”

  Ransom stared at Clint.

  “We just go,” Clint said. “On three.”

  Ransom took a deep breath and said, “Okay, on three.”

  Clint said, “One . . . two . . .”

  Taylor didn’t have time to look in the front window to see what was happening inside. If he did that, there was a good chance he’d get a bullet in the back. One of the bank windows was already shattered. He was just going to have to burst in and do the best he could.

  Another bullet smashed into a window as he opened the door and rushed in. . . .

  As Clint and Ransom came running out of the hall into the bank, Clint saw Andy Taylor come bursting through the front door. All three of them had to take in the scene in an instant, see the employees against one wall, the two gunman watching them, and the four cousins behind the cages.

  At the same time, Ned Pine’s cousins saw the badge on Taylor’s chest, which kept them from seeing Clint and Ransom, giving Clint and Ransom a much-needed advantage in the six-on-three situation.

  “Law,” Rafe shouted. “Kill ’im!”

  The inside of the bank erupted in gunfire. . . .

  FORTY-ONE

  Abruptly, the exchange of fire outside stopped.

  Winston, Kale, and the limping Delaney all stood up and stared down at the street. It was littered with bodies— both human and equine, as some unfortunate horses had gotten caught in the hail of lead.

  The three men waved at each other that each was okay, and then they heard the gunfire from inside the bank.

  Winston and Kale ran for the hatches of their roofs, while Delaney dragged his bad ankle toward his, but they all knew they would be too late to help the others inside with whatever was happening there. . . .

  Six-guns turned on Sheriff Taylor as he entered the bank. Clint and Ransom hastily began to fire, drawing some of the deadly attention to them
selves. Unfortunately, in order to do that, they had to shoot some of the men in the back. It went against every fiber of Clint’s being to do that, but he felt he had no choice in this situation.

  Before the bank robbers knew what was happening, three of them were down. The bank employees had wisely dropped to the floor. Rafe and Lew turned to face Clint and Ransom, while Charlie tried to gun the sheriff. Festus, Zeke, and Del were all dead.

  A bullet struck Ransom in the left shoulder. He didn’t know who had fired it, but he pulled the trigger of his own gun and sent Lew to join his relatives.

  Clint felt a bullet zip past his right earlobe, but kept his concentration and shot Rafe in the chest.

  Taylor, already limping from a bullet wound to the thigh, felt something bite him on the side, but managed to drill Charlie dead center, dropping him to the floor.

  And it was deadly quiet, inside and out. . . .

  When Winston and Kale reached the bank and entered, they saw Clint and Ransom lowering the sheriff to the floor. Around them were the bodies of the bank robbers. Bank employees were still against the wall, some standing, some sitting, all shaking.

  “Is it over?” Kale asked.

  “It is in here,” Clint said. “Outside?”

  “Done there too.”

  “Everybody okay?”

  “I think so,” Kale said. “Delaney’s limpin’, but he ain’t shot.” Kale peered out the window. “He’s checkin’ bodies outside.”

  “Okay,” Clint said. “Let’s check the ones in here. Winston. Go and get the doctor for the sheriff. He’s been hit . . . twice.”