Halliday 5

by Adam Brady

  He got stiffly to his feet and walked over to Turner and said;

  “Don’t you think it’s about time you came clean, mister? It’d save all of us a heap of trouble, you know. If you tell the truth, I could take you back to jail and make sure that you get a fair trial. I’m not makin’ any promises, but it’s bound to go better for you than if you get tangled up in all this business about Tom Rainer. Folks in Wild River are mighty stirred up about what he did to that poor gal ...”

  Turner studied him in silence for a time, but then he shook his head.

  “Told you I’ve never been to Wild River, Sheriff—and you can’t prove otherwise. Once this is all over and done with, I aim to make sure you pay for the way you’re treatin’ an innocent man.”

  “Jeb Sharp’s dead because of you,” McCallum pointed out in a cold, flat voice.

  “While I was locked up in your goddamn cell, remember?” Turner snapped. “There’s no way you can blame me for that. If you want my advice, you better start doin’ your own thinkin’ instead of listenin’ to Halliday. Try to see what he aims to get outta all this.”

  Halliday gave the lawman a grin and stood up to stretch his legs. Then he got his bedroll and began to spread it on the ground. Suddenly he looked up and whispered;

  “Somebody’s comin’.”

  The sheriff strained to see the approaching riders.

  “Goddamn! Just what we don’t need. It’s Ed Rainer and that Wrigley gal.”

  Cole Turner struggled to his feet, and the look of relief was plain on his face.

  “Get back where you belong!” Halliday snapped, and Turner reluctantly lowered himself to the ground.

  The two riders drew rein several yards away, and the girl’s eyes went straight to Turner. He gave her a confident smile. The two dismounted and walked into the camp.

  “What the hell do you want?” McCallum barked.

  “I came to make sure that Cole doesn’t get shot while he’s supposedly tryin’ to escape,” the old man bellowed. “I’m stayin’ all the way to see that he gets a fair trial. I’ll be right alongside you both, makin’ sure nothin’ funny happens.”

  “Suit yourself,” Halliday said, stretching out on his bedroll.

  Beth started to move toward Turner, but McCallum shook his head.

  “No, you don’t,” he said. “Cole’s my prisoner and you’ll have to keep your distance, same as if he was in my jail.”

  Beth’s eyes flashed with anger.

  “But you don’t have to keep him tied up like an animal,” she protested.

  “I can do any damn thing I please!” McCallum told her. “Now back off and stay away from him. Same goes for you, Ed. The both of you can stay or go as you please, but I ain’t gonna let you get close to my prisoner. Come to think of it, Ed, it might be a good thing for you to be in on this every step of the way. Could be you’ll learn somethin’ from it—somethin’ about the kind of scum you’ve been rubbin’ shoulders with.”

  “You’re the one that needs to learn,” Rainer shot back. “You’re gonna be nothin’ but a laughin’ stock when everybody sees how you let yourself be taken in by the wild stories this drifter’s been spreadin’.”

  McCallum turned away from the old man, who continued to splutter and complain.

  “Let’s just go over here and sit down, Mr. Rainer,” Beth said finally.

  With some reluctance, Rainer joined her.

  Beth found a seat on a tree stump and demurely smoothed down her skirt.

  She saw Halliday watching her, and she flushed as she quickly turned her head away.

  Still muttering to himself, Rainer finally rolled himself into a blanket. The sight of him reminded McCallum of his own aching muscles, and he was soon stretched out on his bedroll, too.

  Silence settled on the camp until Beth said;

  “Have you eaten, Cole? Or had a drink of water?”

  “He’s had both,” McCallum told her gruffly. “Now keep quiet. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover tomorrow.”

  Before long, the sheriff was snoring and Ed Rainer soon joined the chorus. Beth lay awake and Halliday kept his eyes closed but was listening intently for the faintest sound.

  Time dragged slowly by. The horses stirred. The old men mumbled in their sleep.

  Then it came—a light footfall and the swish of a heavy riding skirt.

  Halliday partly opened one eye and saw Beth creeping toward Turner. The dude was nodding his encouragement, and then the girl had a knife in her hand and was reaching behind the bound man in an attempt to cut his ropes.

  Silently, Halliday rolled out of his blanket and crept up behind her. Beth was beginning to saw at the ropes around Turner’s wrists when Halliday reached over and plucked the knife from her hands.

  Beth looked up in wide-eyed shock, and Turner began to curse.

  “You’re bein’ mighty foolish, ma’am,” Halliday said solemnly, and then he drew back his arm and threw the knife into the creek. “If this idea of yours had worked, you’d end up in jail with him. Did you ever think of that?”

  The girl looked angrily at him and opened her mouth to speak, but Halliday clapped one hand over her mouth and dragged her toward the water. She struggled to get away from him, but he held her tightly while he said;

  “Can I be sure you’ll be quiet? Those tired old men need their sleep.”

  He released her then, but not before he had noticed the softness of her young body and the scent of her hair.

  Beth glared furiously up at him, but she kept her voice low when she said;

  “You are the most despicable man I have ever met in my life, Mr. Halliday. The very worst kind of—”

  “And you’re about the most foolish woman I’ve ever run across, ma’am. Haven’t you got any sense at all?”

  “I have sense enough to judge men, Mr. Halliday. You’re nothing but an aimless drifter after some financial reward. To suggest that Tom would rape and murder a young girl is ridiculous. Then to tell that lie to his poor father is about the most horrible thing I can imagine.”

  “It’ll be even worse when Ed finally has to admit it’s true,” Halliday said sternly. “I know what I saw, and I know exactly what happened. I’ve got witnesses to back me up, and there’s nothin’ I can gain from all this but trouble. I could introduce you to the father of that dead girl, if you want to see what sufferin’ is really about, Miss Wrigley. Turner and Rainer tried to steal his cattle, and then Rainer killed his daughter and defiled her in ways that would make any decent person sick just to hear about it. What would you do after that? Would you still feel like helpin’ him get away from the law?”

  Beth regarded him uncertainly.

  “But you don’t have proof.”

  “I do have proof. I’ve been tryin’ to tell you that all along. Turner’s an outlaw, and he and Rainer have been pullin’ the wool over Ed’s eyes, and yours, for years.”

  Beth ducked her head quickly, as though she did not want Halliday to see her eyes. Halliday reacted by sheer instinct, and he was stepping to the side when Ed Rainer’s gun butt smashed into his shoulder. He went down with the blow, but his feet came up in a hard kick that caught the old man in the groin. Then Halliday was on his feet and throwing the old man bodily into the water.

  Beth jumped up and reached for him, but Halliday pushed her roughly away.

  Then McCallum was rushing toward them, and back by the trees, Cole Turner was running into the brush with his hands still tied behind his back and his head down to protect his eyes.

  Halliday saw it all in one quick glance and went after him. He made a dive for the escapee and caught him around the legs, and Turner fell hard on his unprotected face.

  Shaking his head to clear it, Turner scrambled to his feet and ran straight at Halliday with his head lowered. He caught him by surprise, and Halliday tasted blood in his mouth after they collided.

  “Okay, dude,” Halliday said. “That’s as far as you go.”

  He hit Turner just once, and
that was all it took to knock the man cold.

  He dragged the unconscious prisoner back to camp and dropped him on the ground. With his hands on his hips, he stood watching Ed Rainer splash his way out of the water. Then he shook his head and turned to Joe McCallum and said;

  “Why don’t we get the hell out of here, Sheriff? These people are just gonna keep on causin’ trouble as long as we give them half a chance.”

  McCallum grunted and turned his angry eyes on Beth Wrigley.

  “You ought to know better, even if that damned old fool doesn’t,” he roared. “I guess Cole’s filled your empty head so full of sweet talk you don’t know if you’re comin’ or goin’. Sooner or later, you’re gonna find out what kind of trash he is, but that’s your business—just as long as you stay away from me and my prisoner. Anymore of this and I’ll throw you in jail for aidin’ and abettin’ in an escape. You got that now?”

  Beth seemed startled by the lawman’s harsh words and the force of his anger. She stepped back and did not say another word. She was suddenly unsure of herself, and her cheeks were flaming with shame.

  She stood listening to Ed Rainer, cursing under his breath as he watched Halliday push Turner onto his horse.

  Holding the reins of Turner’s mount, Halliday mounted his sorrel and waited for the sheriff.

  Turner looked down at Beth and frowned when he saw that her eyes were fixed on Halliday.

  “I’ll get out of this, Beth,” the dude promised, “and I’ll be back for you. I swear I will.”

  Beth lifted her face to him but there was no warmth in her eyes. She moved back to Ed Rainer, who was wringing out his shirt and shivering like a dog.

  “I admit you got the jump on me this time,” the old man said through chattering teeth, “but I’ll tell you this much, McCallum, next time it’s gonna be different ... a heap different.”

  “There better not be a next time, you danged old fool,” McCallum told him, then he stepped up into the stirrup.

  Halliday waited for him, and seeing Beth looking at him, he politely touched his hat to her before he rode away.

  “Let’s follow ’em, girl,” Ed Rainer said as the three horsemen crossed the creek.

  Nine – Proven Guilty

  Ben Hillary saw them coming from his vantage point on the hill behind his house. Ever since Buck Halliday left, the rancher had been waiting for him to return, and he was pleased that he was there to welcome the big man back.

  He kicked his horse into a gallop and rode out to intercept the three riders.

  “This here is Ben Hillary,” Halliday told the lawman when the old man reached them. “It was his daughter that Tom Rainer killed.”

  McCallum sent a withering look Cole Turner’s way, and saw the tall man’s face go tight. In the sheriff’s opinion, Turner looked guilty as sin.

  “Maybe now we’ll get some backing for what you’ve been tellin’ me,” McCallum said to Halliday. “I only need one other man’s word.”

  Ben Hillary extended his hand to Halliday and then to McCallum. Finally, his gaze swung to Turner, and his eyes brightened with expectancy.

  “This is Cole Turner, Mr. Hillary,” Halliday said. “He was one of the five who attacked us at the river, and he’s also the man who kept me boxed in when Dora made a run for it. Sheriff McCallum here only needs your identification to take him to trial.”

  Hillary studied Turner intently for a long time. Then he scowled, shook his head and said;

  “Buck, I can’t say for sure. We got there late, as you know, and there was a lot of dust and horses gallopin’ every which way. I never got close enough to say for sure that he was one of ’em.”

  Halliday looked down at the ground as Turner turned to McCallum.

  “Is that what you dragged us all this way to hear, McCallum?”

  Joe McCallum was too stunned to offer Turner a reply. It was Hillary who said;

  “That’s not to say he isn’t one of them, of course. If Buck says he was there, he’s tellin’ the truth. Maybe some of the others got a better look. Some of them were a lot closer than I was, you know.”

  Halliday let out a heavy sigh.

  “I sure hope so, Mr. Hillary.”

  “You’re in for it now, ain’t you, drifter?” Turner sneered.

  “Shut up, Cole,” McCallum growled. He looked thoughtfully at the rancher then, and said, “How far to your place, Mr. Hillary?”

  “Just over the hill, Sheriff, and you’ll be mighty welcome.”

  “We can do with that,” the lawman said gratefully.

  Hillary moved his mount closer to Halliday then, and asked quietly, “Any news on Tom Rainer?”

  When Halliday shook his head, McCallum said;

  “Are you sure about him, Mr. Hillary? About Tom Rainer, I mean.”

  “I’m sure. Several of my crew recognized him, too,” the rancher said.

  “Good,” McCallum said. “Now let’s get ourselves down to your place. I’ve been in this saddle so long I feel like I’m glued to it.”

  They reached the top of the hill and saw the Rocking L spread out below them. Hillary was starting down when Halliday held up his hand and said quietly;

  “Wait, Mr. Hillary.”

  “What now?”

  “There are four men on horseback over there to the right in the trees.”

  “I see ’em,” Hillary said. “It ain’t anybody from the ranch, I’m guessin’.”

  “I don’t like it,” Halliday said in that same, quiet voice.

  “Let’s get down to the house then,” Hillary suggested. “We might just make it. If they’re trouble, there’s no sense in takin’ ’em on out here in the open. My men will be back soon to help out.”

  “But we don’t know who they are,” McCallum pointed out.

  “They ain’t my crew, that’s for sure,” Hillary told him. “I can spot every one of my men in a blink, and they don’t pack guns like those fellers, not when they’re workin’.”

  Cole Turner couldn’t hide his excitement. He leaned forward in the saddle, straining his eyes to identify the riders. Joe McCallum looked at him and his lip curled in contempt.

  “Can you smell their stink from here, Cole?”

  Turner leaned back and composed himself.

  “You’re still barkin’ up the wrong tree, McCallum. Pretty soon you’re gonna have to admit it.”

  “Will I?” McCallum said. “Let’s push on, slow an’ easy-like.”

  “Why do that?” Ben Hillary said, surprised.

  “Because I say so. It’ll be best to find out what we’re up against. Maybe it’s nothin’, but if they want a fight, that’s exactly what they’ll get. Let’s see what they’re up to.”

  McCallum took the lead as they started down the hill with Halliday right behind him.

  Minutes passed, then the four riders came storming from the trees.

  “Give ’em a chance to explain themselves,” McCallum said quietly, but drew his gun just the same. Halliday and Hillary did likewise.

  The oncoming riders starting shooting long before they were in six-gun range.

  “Well, now we know!” McCallum said bitterly, and then he yelled, “It’s every man for himself. Hillary, stick with Turner and leave this to us. Just don’t let him out of your sight.”

  Hillary worked in behind Turner and prodded the dude’s back with his old gun.

  “You heard the sheriff. Don’t give me any trouble. Just head straight for the house. Move!”

  The rancher leaned from the saddle then and gave Turner’s horse a hard slap on the rump to set it running.

  Halliday had already swung his sorrel’s head away and was sending it straight into the trees. He held his fire as he raced past the intruders, but then he wrenched the sorrel into a skidding turn and came down on the four men.

  Intent on getting Joe McCallum, it took the gunmen a moment to realize that now they were the ones under attack.

  McCallum was shooting steadily, and he gave a yell of t
riumph when one of the men pitched forward and clung to his horse’s neck. The horse swung away, carrying its wounded rider toward Halliday. The rider lifted his head, his face crumpled with fear. Then Halliday pulled the trigger and blew the man out of the saddle.

  The riderless horse ran on, but the man on the ground lay in an awkward angle of death.

  “Now for the rest of ’em,” Halliday said as he turned the sorrel toward the remaining horsemen.

  They seemed to be unsure of themselves now, but one of them barked the order to spread out. All three spurred their mounts at McCallum.

  The lawman knew he had to make a run for it, but before he could kick his horse into action, he felt the animal falter under the impact of hot lead. As the horse’s legs folded, McCallum kicked free of the stirrup irons and threw himself clear. He hit the ground on his side and rolled in behind the dead horse. Two bullets then thudded into the horse’s hide, another ricocheted from the saddle. McCallum rose to his knees and emptied his six-gun, cursing when he saw that no one took a direct hit. He saw that Halliday was closing in quickly, and he desperately fumbled fresh cartridges into the chambers.

  Only a few minutes had passed since the first gunshot sounded. Ben Hillary was riding furiously for the ranch yard, forcing Turner to stay ahead of him. They were almost at the barn when one of the gunmen spurred away at an angle, trying to cut the rancher off.

  “Hightail, Sheriff!” Halliday shouted as he forced the sorrel in between the sheriff and the two men who were after him.

  McCallum needed no urging. He sprinted toward the bunkhouse as Halliday sent four shots at the two men and deftly reloaded. The men advanced until Halliday put another two slugs close to their heads. They immediately hauled back on the reins, and Halliday held them at bay for several valuable seconds.

  Then a shot rang out from the ranch yard behind him. McCallum was only a few feet from the bunkhouse steps and running hard, but the man on his tail was closing in fast. Another shot cut the eerie silence and the lawman went down.

  The man who had gunned McCallum down was going after Hillary and Turner now, but Halliday came racing up behind him with his gun blazing until it clicked on empty. The attack was so fierce and so sudden that the rider veered away from Hillary, and as he turned, Halliday recognized Tom Rainer.