Close Call

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Close Call Page 8

by Clinton Spurr


  “Okay, Dane, I’ll see that the Judge hears of this. But what are you gonna do now?”

  “Stay out of the hands of the law, that’s certain. You got any idea who shot Charlie Logan and Pete Shirlton last night when they rode in? And what happened to Yancey Clark?”

  “There was a bunch of men waiting out of town, so I gather, just waiting for you to ride in with the other two. They wouldn’t surrender so the shooting started. Clark wasn’t scratched. He went off home. But like I told you, Shirlton was shot dead and Logan got a bullet in the chest.”

  Lassiter shook his head slowly. He stared down at his brother, and Frank looked up at him, trying to smile. There was a lot of pain showing in Frank’s rugged face, and he motioned for Dane to go closer. Dane dropped to one knee.

  “Sorry I’m knocked out of this, Dane,” Frank said tiredly. “I ain’t gonna be able to help you any.”

  “I’m not worried about that. I can take care of the shooting, don’t you fear. Just get yourself on your feet again, Frank, and watch your step around the law.”

  “What are you gonna do?” Frank demanded, and Dane shook his head indecisively.

  “I don’t know yet. I figure I’ll have to play it as she comes.”

  “I can hear riders,” the doctor warned, and Dane pushed himself erect and moved to the slope of the hollow, easing himself up to the rim. He Spotted half a dozen riders immediately, and some of them were riding slumped in their saddles. He noticed that three horses were being led, and they contained blanket-covered figures lashed face down. His expression hardened as he pushed himself back down the slope.

  “The sheriff is going back into town with the posse, Frank,” he announced. “Looks like there are three dead men with them, and a few of the others have been hit by lead.”

  “Then I’d better be getting back,” Weller said. “Beat it out of here, Dane. I’ll have to report to the sheriff what happened.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll be long gone before they can get after me, but make sure the law doesn’t get too rough with Frank, Doc. He ain’t in any shape for that. Milton might try to take it out on him for losing me. Just watch out, huh?”

  “Don’t worry, and I’ll have a talk with the Judge, you can bet.” Doctor Weller turned to Frank. “I’ll have to leave you here until I can get back with a wagon. I want to keep you off your feet for at least a week. But your life is not in any danger from this wound.”

  “Thanks, Doc,” Frank said softly.

  The doctor turned and swung into the saddle of the horse Dane had lent him, and he pushed the animal up the slope and disappeared in the direction of town. Lassiter went back to the rim of the hollow and peered out, satisfying himself that the riders were still making for Pommel, and he knew he didn’t have much time left to him. He went back to his brother’s side.

  “I’d better be riding out, Frank,” he said harshly.

  “Take care! I wish I could ride with you.” Frank looked up at him for a moment, then lifted a hand, and Dane shook it hard. “Don’t do anything rash, Dane. I know how you’re feeling about Pete and Charlie. Wait until I get on my feet again. Then we’ll get together and do some shooting between us.”

  “I figure the first thing Milton will do when he hears you’ve been shot is throw you in jail,” Dane said. “But don’t worry about that. When you’re fit enough to ride again I’ll come bust you and Charlie out of there.”

  “I’ll get Adam McCall to handle this. He’s the best lawyer in the county, and he’s sweet on Mary. He’ll get into this on our behalf.”

  “So long as you don’t let Milton know too much about what’s going on,” Dane warned. “The less he knows right now the better for us.”

  “Okay, brother! You just take care. They’ll have every man who can ride out on the trail after you.”

  “I’ll lead them a dance, and I’ve got a thing or two to take care of. Now I’d better be on my way. So long, Frank, and I’m real glad I got the truth about what happened. I had a bad time of it thinking you had started all this, even if it was an attempt to straighten me out with shock tactics.”

  “I’m glad you understand that I didn’t do anything,” Frank replied, and Dane nodded and turned away.

  He swung into the saddle of the remaining horse and glanced down at Frank for a moment. His hard face was rugged and grim, his blue eyes narrowed and calculating. Then he grinned tightly and set the horse at the slope, riding up out of the hollow and driving the animal away at a fast clip.

  As he rode out he glanced back towards town, and he saw the doctor entering the main street, about fifty yards behind the posse. His thoughts were sombre as he considered what had stacked up against him, but he was filled with determination. Pete Shirlton had been shot dead, and that was the second murder in a week. First his father and then Pete. There was a big score to settle, and Dane knew where to start.

  He figured that his best bet was to pick up Yancey Clark, although he knew it would be a difficult chore, unless Yancey thought the posse would nail him at Cross L. He visualised the shock and surprise that would hit Yancey the next time they met, and he smiled harshly as he savoured the feeling of triumph that would be his. But he did not minimise the threat that lay across his life. The sheriff would make every effort to nail him. He was the joker in the pack, and had to be removed before any of the dirty plot that had been evolved could succeed.

  There was nothing he could do but ride back to Cross L and get some supplies. He didn’t figure any of the possemen had been left there, but if a guard was wandering around then it would be just too bad for him. Lassiter found that his feelings had hardened like steel, and he didn’t care now if he had to shoot anyone. Nothing would be permitted to stand in his way, and he would not rest until the whole crooked deal had been laid bare.

  He was tired and hungry by the time he breasted the hill where his parents lay buried, and he reined up for a moment to stare at the two graves. A lump came to his throat when he studied his father’s grave, and he clamped his teeth together as he made a vow of vengeance.

  But he did not let his feelings override his alertness. He sat staring down at the ranch for a long time, looking for movement, for any sign of occupation. Then he thought of the situation back in town, and wondered what the sheriff would do when he discovered that the Lassiters had made it to the hollow. Would Milton suspect that Dane would ride back to the ranch?

  He dismounted and walked along the crest until he could look across the range, and his lips tightened when he saw two riders coming towards Cross L. A long hard sigh escaped him and he went back to his horse, leading the animal among the trees and taking the rifle from the saddle boot. He checked the long gun and also his .45. Then he waited, and twenty minutes later the two riders appeared and rode straight down into the ranch. As they passed him, Lassiter studied them, and recognised both as townsmen. One was wearing a law star, and he needed nothing more to indicate that these were possemen and being stationed at the ranch in the hope that he would return.

  Lassiter didn’t want any trouble with the local men. He didn’t know who was in the sheriff’s crooked business, and until he found out he didn’t want to kill anyone. He sighed bitterly, realizing that he was wasting time, and he went back to the horse, mounted, and rode out, making for Blue Ridge.

  He had it in the back of his mind that he had to meet Paula Hendrik at their usual rendezvous, and he hoped the girl would have some news for him. But he didn’t see what the Judge could accomplish in such a short time. He knew his impatience would be his worst enemy, and he clamped his teeth together as he pushed on.

  Noon came and went and Lassiter found himself in sore straits. He was thirsty and hungry, and was finding it difficult to keep his eyes open. He dared not rest, for if he fell asleep and missed Paula at the rendezvous he would be in worse trouble. Apart from that, he had to look for Yancey Clark later.

  By the time he reached the rendezvous his horse was faltering, and he was glad to be able to dismo
unt in cover and let the animal drink from the stream, then graze under cover. He refreshed himself at the water, but could do nothing to ease the pangs of hunger attacking him. He sat in a vantage point awaiting the first glimpse of Paula, and now his spirits raised a little, because there was every indication that Paula loved him. There was no room in his mind at the moment for love, but it was nice to know that the girl cared, and he knew subconsciously that if he beat this crooked set-up he would have every chance with Paula.

  Despite his alertness and concern over missing the girl, he could not fight off his weariness. The hot sun beat down upon him and the running water nearby lulled his bemused senses. He dozed fitfully, slowly sinking into a deeper sleep, and the next thing he knew was a harsh voice calling to him. He came up out of slumber like a swimmer fighting back to the surface after a deep dive. At first he thought it was Paula, and relief began to fill him. Then he opened his eyes and found himself staring into the muzzle of a gun. Behind the deadly weapon was the ominous figure of Sheriff Buck Milton, a vicious grin of triumph on his heavy features...

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “JUST keep your hand away from your belt,” Milton said, his dark eyes glinting in the high sunlight. He was a medium sized man, but very powerful, with a barrel-like chest and thick shoulders. His face was almost black, and creased now in a vicious grin, his cheeks fleshy, his nose squat and bulbous. He was around forty-five, a tough and dangerous man.

  “Where the hell did you come from?” Lassiter demanded, sitting very still.

  “I’ll ask all the questions,” came the sharp reply. “Get up very slow and keep your hands away from your body.” He waited until Lassiter had complied. “That’s right. Now turn your back to me and lift your gun from the holster, using finger and thumb.” Again he waited, and when Lassiter had got rid of his Colt, Milton chuckled. “Caught you napping, huh? Well it’s a good thing I found you here, Lassiter. If I hadn’t you’d have had a long wait for Paula Hendrik!”

  “What do you know about Paula?” Lassiter demanded crisply. He was trying to figure out how the sheriff knew where to find him, and he was aware that Paula was the only person to know his whereabouts at this particular time.

  “You figure you’re smart, huh?” Milton demanded. He was in good humour, having captured Lassiter. “Turn around and sit down, and keep your hands in plain view.”

  “So you’re a whole heap smarter than I figured,” Lassiter said, turning and sitting down. He studied the lawman’s craggy face, and already he was watching for a chance to escape. But there didn’t seem much chance. Milton was keeping out of distance, and the gun in his hand was steady and menacing. The sheriff had a tough reputation, and he had killed a number of men in the eight years he’d been running the law around here.

  “I didn’t need to be very smart to run you down,” Milton retorted. “I’ve been two jumps ahead of you since before you got back yesterday. In fact I’ve been waiting for you to show, knowing you’d soon get word of your old man’s death.”

  Lassiter’s eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of his father, and his lips pulled tight.

  “So my father was killed as bait to draw me back, huh?” he demanded.

  “That’s it,” Milton admitted.

  “You framed me with a murder to get rid of me, and when that didn’t work you had to try something else.” There was a ragged edge to Lassiter’s voice. “I suppose you arranged with Yancey Clark to give me that tale about my brother Frank trying to get me.”

  “Sure thing. You went for it hook and all, just like I figured. I knew soon as you were back that you’d start putting two and two together. You knew some of those men at your table that night you beat Beutel to the draw had seen what happened, and I knew you’d soon start asking questions of them. I was right when I figured that the first man you’d go for was Yancey Clark. Everyone knows Yancey is yellow. I knew he wouldn’t be able to stand up to you once you got ahold of him. So I got to him first, and we cooked up the tale he told you. When I learned that Charlie Logan and Pete Shirlton had thrown in with you I knew I had to get them first, and the Judge has been suspicious about your case ever since it happened. I reckoned if Yancey told you part of the truth, and spun the yarn about Frank being involved, you would go straight to Cross L for a showdown with your brother and probably send Yancey to talk to the Judge with Logan and Shirlton. I figured it right, huh? I had some men waiting near the Judge’s house, and I was around Cross L waiting for you to show up.”

  “And Pete Shirlton was killed, shot down in cold blood, and Charlie Logan is bad hit,” Lassiter said through his teeth. “You’re a murdering swine, Milton.”

  “A man’s got to be if he’s to get on in this world,” the sheriff retorted. “I’ve been killing the badmen around here for a long time, for peanuts. It’s about time I got something out of my way of life. Everybody takes me for granted. I’m just gun trash in some people’s eyes. So I figured to change all that. I settled on Cross L for myself, and I had to get rid of you Lassiters so I could buy in. I had you pegged for a killer. You and your wild ways! You did just as you liked, but I spiked that. I got you framed for murder, and you’d have hanged for it if I’d caught you. But it doesn’t matter now. I’ve got you, and when we go back to town now, you’ll be dead and slung across your saddle.”

  “How’d you know where to find me?” Lassiter demanded.

  “It wasn’t hard to figure out when I heard you was sneaking around the Judge’s house last night. You made a mistake by not killing Boswell. He said the three of you were in town, and I knew Paula Hendrik was the only attraction for you, so I had her watched, and when she rode out of town around noon I followed her until I was certain which way she was headed. You’d been seen up here with her many times before I hung that murder on you. But by the time she gets here you’ll be gone with me, and my story is that I had to kill you to stop you getting away.”

  “What’s happened to my brother Frank?” Lassiter demanded.

  “He’s in jail, nursing his wound, and I’ll have him put out of his misery before long. Then there’s just your sister, but I reckon I can get around her without too much trouble.”

  “You must be crazy if you figure you can get away with this,” Lassiter said in sharp tones.

  “Not crazy, just plain desperate. I got a few men helping me, and when I’ve won through they’ll be paid off. No one will know what really happened. I’ll be sitting on top of the pile then, and I’ll be making life worthwhile.”

  Lassiter took a deep breath. He could see that he was in a tight spot. There was a glitter in Milton’s eyes that warned him he could expect no mercy from the man, and he began to play for time, although what he could do against this tough lawman he did not know. Milton would take no chances, knowing him for what he was.

  “You better know that the Judge is aware there’s something wrong about Beutel’s death and the murder you slapped on me. You won’t get away with this, Milton.”

  “If I don’t, you won’t be alive to see me pulled down,” came the grim reply.

  “You figure you can trust men like Yancey Clark?” Lassiter forced a chuckle. “He’ll sell you out at the first signs of trouble. Yancey is yellow right through.”

  “I got plans for Yancey later, when he’s no more use to me. I might even finish up owning Bar C as well as your place.”

  Lassiter grinned, shaking his head slowly. “You’re a fool for all your scheming, Sheriff. So no one suspects you, except me and my brother, Charlie Logan and the Judge! Are you gonna silence everyone of us?”

  “Sure! Why not? I can do most of the killings between now and the time I reveal your death tomorrow, and you’ll take the blame. I’ll let it out that you’re just a mad-dog killer, and there’ll be no evidence to the contrary. I’ve got this licked. You came back like I figured you would, and you played right into my hands.”

  “What about Doc Weller? When I fetched him to take care of Frank this morning I told him what had happene
d, and he promised to report it to the Judge. Him and the Judge are good friends. Are you gonna kill the Doc as well, Sheriff? Then there’s Snap Wyman! You know what the Judge told me last night? He got Snap to wear a star because he wanted someone to keep an eye on you. How can you kill all those people and hope to get away with it?”

  “Keep talking. You’re spotting the dangers that I wouldn’t pick up. It doesn’t matter to me how many I have to kill. I’ll find reasons for their deaths, and no one is gonna suspect the sheriff.”

  “Okay, if that’s what you think, but like I told you, you are under suspicion already.” Lassiter was marvelling that he could talk so calmly with this cold blooded killer. But he was trying to put Milton off guard. He had to get away from the lawman, and if he couldn’t then he was facing certain death. He knew that by what the lawman had said and by the cold expression now showing on Milton’s face.

  “Suspicions don’t count around here,” Milton told him. “So now get on your feet. You’ve got a lot to do for me, and you can only do it by being dead.”

  Lassiter got slowly to his feet, tense now, like ice inside, knowing that at the last moment he wouldn’t stand and die like a steer being poleaxed. He’d make a desperate bid to save his life, even if there was no chance. The sheriff backed away from him, gun steady, the black muzzle gaping at Lassiter. There seemed little chance of getting the better of such a skilled lawman, and despair began to bite into Lassiter’s mind.

  “Who killed my father, Milton?” he demanded harshly.

  “Hank Boswell! I need a hold over him to keep him quiet. I got murder on him, even though he did it at my instigation. But I can trust Boswell. He’s a friend of mine from way back. In fact he was a crook long before he showed up around here. We used to ride together with a gang over in Colorado.”

  Lassiter thinned his lips at the news. He stood motionless before the lawman, and there was the distance of ten feet between them. Milton raised his gun. There was a vicious grin on his face, and his dark eyes were blazing with triumph.

 

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