It was mid morning and the sun was halfway to its apex. It was promising to be another warm day, although not the usual scorcher of the past several days. The caravan of riders and wagon had been on the trail for two hours. So far the trip had been uneventful.
The Beatties had taken up a position at the rear of the formation as rear guard in case of attack. They would keep watch of the back trail and in case of any sightings of trouble they could create a buffer.
“Sure do make a fella feel mighty safe havin’ such a fine bunch of protector’s coverin’ our backs,” Rap Brown said to Cyclone as they rode side by side next to Jeremy on the wagon seat. “Just makes me wonder when they’re gonna get around to shootin’ us in the back.”
“Oh, they’ll get to it all right. But right now there’s too danged many of us.” Cyclone grinned.
Out of the corner of his eye, Cyclone saw Red Beattie pull his horse out of formation and gig forward at a gallop, racing forward to come up alongside Cyclone and Rap. “Get ready, I think they’re getting ready to make a move, now,” Cyclone warned.
“Cyclone!” Red shouted excitedly, as he pulled his horse up alongside, to a walk. “The boys spotted some dust trails a ways back. I saw them too. Looks like riders. Several of them. Maybe me and the boys ought to ride back and check them out.”
“We’d surely appreciate that Red,” Cyclone said gratefully, keeping his suspicions to himself.
“Good, then we’ll do it,” Red said. Then as if as an after thought and eyeing Rap, he said, “Maybe we should take one of your men with us in case there is trouble and there is too much for us to handle.”
“That’s good thinking, Red.” Cy said, without indicating a hint of distrust. Whatever they were up to, they wanted to get Rap out of the way. Then to Rap he said, with a wink of an eye. “Rap, you’d better go with them and give them a hand.”
“Will do, Cy,” Rap said, pulling the reins back to fall behind Cyclone so he could neck rein the big gray around and ride back with Red Beattie. They picked up the remaining three Beattie brothers and they all rode off, disappearing beyond the far horizon.
Ten minutes later, Willis Beattie came riding back at a furious gallop. He was lashing his mount frantically with the reins and spurring him hard; pushing him to the limit of his endurance. He was shouting as he approached and the closer he came the more his words could be understood.
“Bounty hunters!” He shouted. “Bounty hunters hit us! They got Rap! My brothers are pinned down! They need help!”
He slewed his horse to a halt, spinning around in the trail, readying to turn back. “We gotta go help him.”
Kitty turned a quick glance to Cyclone for approval.
“”Everyone!” Cyclone shouted. “Go get ‘em!”
Kitty, Chief, Frankie and his friends all kicked their mounts into motion and took off with Willis and were gone in a cloud of dust.
Cyclone was still sitting his horse next to Jeremy on the wagon and watching them go.
“You’re not going with them, Grampa?” Jeremy asked. “That’s not like you. Aren’t you worried. If you’re concerned about this wagon, it’s not worth it.”
“Just hang on there, boy. We’re just about to find out what goes on here.” He slid his rifle out of its boot, levered a shell into the chamber and held it across his chest with his finger on the trigger.
A moment later, four riders rode out of the trees off to the right. Red and Kirby Beatie were the outside flank riders. In the center Jonas Beattie lead the big gray horse of the fourth rider; Rap Brown. His hands were tied behind him and Jonas Beattie had the barrel of his pistol pressed against the back of Rap’s head just below the left ear.
Cyclone lowered the barrel of his rifle and held it steady. The Beaties halted in the open field. “Well, this is a little embarrassing, Cyclone. I thought you would’ve been gone off to do your usual daring do.”
“You don’t think I woulda gone off to save a bunch of skunks like you, do you?”
“I thought you would of wanted to save your friend here,” Red chided.
“Rap can always take care of hisself,” Cyclone said. “‘Sides I knew you was just drawing everybody away, just to get this wagon. So I waited for you. You’d better take it fast before everybody finds out it was just a trick and gets back here.”
“If they do,” Red said. “I’ve got you, your boy, and your friend here. If we don’t get the wagon, they won’t get you.”
“I’m afraid nobody’s getting The Cyclone Kid, but me,” a voice boomed from behind the Beattie brothers.
Red started to turn, but the voice sounded again. It was a harsh voice. It sounded ominous and deep, but somehow not quite manish. “Don’t turn around. Don’t anyone turn around. All of you drop your guns. Toss them as far out in front of your horses so I can see where they land”
“Who’s back there?” Red asked nervously.
“Never mind,” The voice said. “Just do as I said or you you won’t even feel hitting the ground. Now do it!”
Reluctantly, all three tossed their guns away.
“The same goes for you too, Cyclone,” the voice ordered. “And that snot nosed kid on that wagon seat. Nobody holds a gun but me. Got that?”
A figure covered by a long trail duster and large brim hat carrying a shotgun and riding a dapple gray mare rode out into the open. A squat broad shouldered young man with long blond hair hanging shoulder length beneath a beaten straw hat, riding a mule followed close behind.
Cyclone’s eyes squinted in disbelief. “Out of the frying pan into the fire,” he groaned. He sighed and pursed his lips in defeat. “Toss your gun away, boy,” He said to Jeremy. He threw his rifle down, drew his pistol and tossed it away. “After all this time. Sam Bell has finally caught up with me.”
“Who’s Sam Bell?” Jeremy asked.
“Bounty hunter,” Cyclone said in a low voice. “Been after me for a long time.”
“Now, you three jaspers,” the bounty hunter said. “Kick them animals into a run and get as far away from here as you get before I blast you all to kingdom come. Leave that other varmint here, He’s mine for the time bein’. Now Git!” One barrel of the shotgun went off and a hailstorm of pellets flew in a cloud over the Beattie brothers’ heads. They took off at gallop without looking back. They disappeared immediately. Raps’s horse stamped nervously and shied away.
“C’mon Cyclone. Let’s get going.”
Cyclone gigged his horse forward.
Jeremy said after him, “Just like that, Grampa? You’re giving up just like that? Why did you throw your guns away so easily?”
“Had to son,” Cyclone said as he rode on to meet the other two riders. “There’s just no way I could shoot Sam Bell.”
“As for you, sonny,” Sam Bell said. “Tell your friends that if any of you come after us in the next hour, the old man is dead.”
They all rode off to the north; each rider flanking Cyclone on each side. In a moment or two they were gone over the horizon.
“You mean there really were bounty hunter after all?” Frankie the Kid said after the riders had returned and Jeremy told what had happened.
“Not the ones you thought you were after,” Jeremy said. “That was just a ploy by Willis and his brothers to get you away from the wagon.”
Willis shifted nervously on his feet. His brothers had used him. The plan had blown up and he had been left holding the bag. His brothers were gone. For the first time he realized that if the plan had succeeded, he would still be in the same position he was in right now. He was afraid of what was going to happen to him. “It wasn’t my idea,” Willis blurted. “They’re my brothers. They told me to do it. What else could I do?”
“No this was another bounty hunter, working separately,” Jeremy continued, ignoring Willis’s blubbering. “This one was named Sam Bell.”
“Sam Bell!” Kitty exclaimed.“Grampa mentioned a Sam Bell but refused to say anything about him.”
“Him?” Jeremy said. “Sam Be
ll’s not a him. Sam Bell’s a woman.”
Chapter Fifteen
The Return of Wildcat Kitty and the Cyclone Kid Page 20
