Gun (A Spur Western Book 8) Page 6

  Cusie Ben grinned widely.

  ‘Don’ you pay him no heed, Miz Doolittle,’ he said. ‘He don’ mean no harm. He jest bein’ sentimental.’

  Doolittle released the raving Kid and dropped him to the ground. The boy scrambled to his feet and took up his killer stance.

  ‘That’s three of you’ns goin’ to git his comeuppance,’ he snarled through clenched teeth.

  Spur said: ‘You left the Basque out, Kid. What did he do?’

  Doolittle was looking grave.

  ‘Sam,’ he said, ‘we’re two horses down. We’re doing no good here. Leave us go back to town and start all over.’

  ‘This bushwhacking’s delaying tactics,’ Spur said. ‘I surmise we’re gettin’ a mite too close for their comfort. Tell you what, Ben you ride double on Albert. I have a hunch, I’m goin’ ahead.’

  Charlie Doolittle said: ‘You’re doing no such thing. You stay, we all stay.’

  Spur said: ‘You’re confused, Charlie. I’m ramroddin’ this outfit. There’s gold and prisoners back there in Sunset and I don’t hanker after losin’ either of ’em. The Kid can stay with me.’

  Ben said: ‘You must be outa your mind, man. I’ll take the Kid’s horse an’ he can take his yaller streak back to town.’

  The Kid hurled himself on Ben with a strangled scream of rage. Ben sidestepped, tripped him and stretched him on the ground.

  ‘You mean you want that sidin’ you-all?’ Ben asked Spur.

  ‘Cut it out, Ben,’ Spur said. ‘I say the Kid stays with me.’

  ‘No accounting for taste,’ Doolittle said.

  The Kid regained his feet again. He started to yell. When Spur said ‘Shut it,’ quietly, he shut it. He knew when Spur had reached the end of his rope.

  Ben was fretting. Spur could see it. The Negro squatted, built a smoke and fired it. Slowly, he drew smoke into his lungs and exhaled. Spur joined him. They spoke quietly together so the others could not hear them.

  ‘What’s eatin’ you, Ben?’

  Cusie slowly turned his head to stare at Sam.

  ‘I missed somethin’, Sam,’ he said. ‘I don’ know where I done it, but I done it. Someplace back there there’s a mite of sign I ain’t seen. It’s eatin’ at me. They done gotten away with Miz Netta ‘cause I’m a goddam fool coon an’ that’s a fact.’

  ‘You did all a man could do.’

  ‘That ain’t so an’ you know it. Sam, you give me a horse. I gotta look some more.’

  Spur thought. He’d seen Ben with hunches before and the Negro wasn’t often wrong. Netta’s fate might hang on what he decided.

  Finally, he said: ‘All right. What mount do you want?’

  Ben grinned briefly.

  ‘Cilveti’s mule,’ he said. ‘She a stayer. An’ she have better manners’n Albert.’

  Spur rose and told Doolittle and the Basque they’d have to double up going back to town. Doolittle didn’t like the arrangement much. Not the doubling up, but the fact that there were only two of them headed back for the gold and the prisoners. Spur didn’t say what was in his mind—that all the prisoners and the gold in the world weren’t worth one Netta Manson. He might not be in love with the girl any longer, but she was a fine girl and he owed her.

  So Spur and a grumbling Kid pushed on ahead. Doolittle and his hand turned back riding Albert and Ben stayed where he was with the Basque’s mule and he brooded, thinking back over the trail he had covered, trying to discover where he had gone wrong, seeing every detail of the country in the eye of his mind.

  Chapter Nine

  The men in the Mexican house were uneasy. Maddox had split the band up and they didn’t like that when there was a big job coming off. Even then, they did not know how big a job Maddox had in mind. If they had their uneasiness would have been far greater. They stayed through the night and day in the closeness of the Mexican house, not allowing Peralta, the owner to go out, keeping the girl tied to the string-bed in the corner.

  They played cards, but they found that their minds couldn’t concentrate. For the first time since they had been together, there was a fraction of doubt in their minds about their leader. They didn’t speak of it, for that was not their way. Each man kept his thoughts to himself and the more he suppressed what was in his mind, each man’s worry increased. The fact that Maddox stayed away from them for the whole day didn’t help. This in itself was not like him, for, like all good leaders, he usually made it a point to share the discomforts of his men.

  The presence of the girl fretted them. The presence of Peralta’s wife and their children fretted them. They could not permit either the women or the children to go out and give them the opportunity of telling neighbors that there were strange gringos in the house. The only point in their favor was that the house was isolated from the rest of the village and nobody came near it. Holy Madder went out before light to attend to the horses and to check that they had sufficient feed and water for their needs. He had hidden them well, but there was no telling that somebody from the town would spot them during the daylight hours. Their presence would at once arouse the curiosity of the local folks.

  However, after dark, when Holy had returned from checking the horses, Maddox came.

  They were relieved to see that he was pleased with himself. By this time, they had a guard under cover outside the house and the leader did not come in unchallenged. This fact pleased him greatly and he did not fail to comment favorably on the fact. In that kind of thing lay some of the man’s strength. He didnyt overlook the small things which are so valuable in a leader’s relationship with his men. Martie Bell was the guard.

  ‘Come on inside, Martie,’ Maddox said. ‘We’re all set.’

  Bell followed Maddox to the door and Maddox knocked on it with the butt of his quirt.

  Peralta opened up and they went inside. The Mexican dropped the bar into its bracket and Maddox looked around the scene in the lamplight. He spotted the girl on the bed and walked over to her. Neither of them spoke. He nodded as though with satisfaction and went to sit at the table. The Mexican woman crouched in a dark corner with her children.

  There were chairs only for two. Maddox and Simons sat, the others stood around. Peralta stood back in the shadows watching them, wondering if his cupidity would bring him riches or ruin. He was scared and he kept swallowing to move saliva over a dry throat.

  ‘We’re ready to move, boys,’ Maddox said.

  ‘Good,’ said Simons. ‘I ain’t ezackly enjoyin’ it here.’

  ‘The gold’s in the post-office. It looks like there’s only old Shreaveley guarding it.’

  ‘A pushover,’ Madder remarked.

  ‘I thought,’ Martie Bell said, ‘we was goin’ to bust out Gaylor and the rest.’

  ‘There’s that,’ Simons said, ‘an’ there’s I don’t think we have enough men to take the gold. Maybe Shreaveley’s sat on it and we could puff him over. But I can’t see Spur leavin’ nobody but that Shreaveley to look out for the gold.’

  ‘Good thinkin’,’ Maddox said. There was no irony in his voice. You didn’t use irony with men like these even if you felt it. ‘So we don’t have the men huh? You know any better men than those fellows in the jail?’

  The men looked at each other. Bell and Simons laughed.

  From a dark corner, Billy Colorado, whom everybody had forgotten said: ‘Want to go home, Maddox.’

  Maddox looked in his direction.

  ‘All right, Billy,’ he said. ‘Not too much longer and you can go. Not tonight though. I haven’t forgotten you.’

  ‘I wanta go now. You pay.’

  Patiently, Maddox said: ‘You wait a while longer and I’ll double your pay, Billy. There’s a lot of money in this. Savvy? Much gold. You sit there still now. Hear?’

  Billy started to protest further and Holy Madder said quietly: ‘Shut it, Indian, or I’ll knock your teeth down your throat with the barr’l of my gun.’

  Billy became silent. He dreaded Madder.

  ‘So we do
the jail first,’ Simons said.

  ‘Yes,’ Maddox said, ‘we do the jail first. And that’s our main problem. Once we have the prisoners free and armed, the gold will give us little trouble. I have the guns all ready. Horses’re our trouble. I want a half-dozen good horses. Any suggestions?’

  They thought.

  ‘Doolittle’s place. It ain’t what I’d call classy horseflesh. But he has plenty horses and mules.’

  ‘All right—Holy, you and Burt get the horses. I don’t want them here. I want them with the rest of our animals. Clear? Saddles, too.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Right now. This minute.’

  Madder and Simons looked at each other in surprise. Then they recovered and Madder said: ‘Keno. Come on, Burt, let’s go.’

  ‘When you have Doolittle’s animals with ours, wait for Martie and me. We’ll give you an hour.’

  ‘What about the girl?’ Madder asked.

  ‘She stays here.’

  ‘But, hell…’ Madder began.

  ‘I have it all worked out, Holy,’ Maddox said evenly. ‘There’s a risk in it. We’re taking a hell of a chance. You know I don’t ever try to fool you. But it’s worth it and I reckon we can pull it off. Good enough?’

  Madder hesitated a moment and the two others waited for his decision. Maybe Madder stank and maybe he was a pretty queer one, but he had nerve and good judgment.

  Finally, he said: ‘Good enough.’

  He and Burt Simons turned and went out. Peralta came forward and let the bar drop behind them.

  Maddox turned to Martie Bell.

  ‘Mart, this evening you don’t have a thing to do but stay with Billy. He comes along with us and we can’t afford to lose him. Once he’s through with tonight’s work we can lose him forever. But tonight we need him like hell.’

  ‘You mean I don’t have nothin’ to do but watch that goddam Indian?’ Bell said, disgusted.

  ‘That’s what I mean. We don’t have that Indian and we can’t pull this off.’

  ‘I don’t see—’

  ‘You will.’

  Maddox rose and said: ‘Peralta, you come with me.’

  The Mexican looked fearfully at his wife. His hands waved, begging to be left where he was, the words wouldn’t come. Bell took him by the shoulder and pushed him toward the door. Maddox lifted the bar and stepped outside. The sweating Mexican followed him. They walked a hundred yards from the house and Maddox stopped. The Mexican cannoned into him and apologized.

  Maddox said: ‘You are frightened, Peralta, and frightened men are dangerous. Therefore, you will stop being frightened. You will do well out of this affair if you do as you are told. If you don’t, you will be killed. If you try to run before I am ready for you to run, your wife and children will be killed. Do you understand?’

  The trembling man said that he understood only too well. Maddox said that was good because if he did understand they would get along very well. He walked ahead a short way and came to some bushes among the trees. He kicked something metallic in the shadows and said: ‘Tote these back to your house.’

  The Mexican went forward and lifted a sack-covered bundle from the ground. He knew that he was lifting several rifles. They were very heavy. Maddox himself picked up two smaller sacks and followed him as he staggered back through the trees toward the house.

  Back in the house, Maddox admitted to Bell: ‘The weak point in my plan is leaving the girl here with Peralta. He is very scared and that may make him behave. On the other hand it may make him betray us. I have told him of the consequences of his betraying us. Tie the girl so she can’t move.’

  Bell moved over to the bed and got to work. Maddox explained to the Mexican woman that she and her man must behave themselves or the consequences would be dire. She didn’t speak, but she understood. The history of her people rested upon this kind of situation in which the humble and the poor felt the power of the strong. She forgot in that moment that every once in a while the humble and the poor rose up and struck out blindly at those who oppressed them. Now she knew only that the lives of herself and her family hung in the balance.

  Bell finished tying the girl.

  Maddox headed for the door. He said: ‘You’re coming with us, Billy.’

  Colorado protested, he had done enough and it was time he was paid and allowed to go home. His wife would be anxious and he badly needed a drink. Bell hauled him to his feet and Maddox said: ‘When this is over, you’ll have all the drink and money you want, Billy.’ He went out and the Indian followed him, pushed ahead by Bell. They walked south through the trees and then came to open country. They dropped down onto a rocky flat, waded through the shallow creek, climbed out onto what was a small malpais and walked for another fifteen minutes. Then the country broke up before them and they came on the horses. Madder had confined them in a small blind canyon and closed the mouth of it with brush. They saddled the horses, then climbed the sides of the canyon and settled down to wait.

  They didn’t have to wait long before they heard the distant whinny of a horse and a short while after that there came the clatter of horses’ hoofs as the animals were driven across the malpais. Soon they heard Madder’s hail.

  Madder and Simons came up to say that they had taken the horses with little trouble. A Mexican had put up a fight in defense of Doolittle’s stock, but the man had not been armed with a gun and had been silenced without a shot having to be fired. He was back there in an arroyo with his throat cut.

  Maddox was satisfied. Both reckoned that the chances were that they had not been spotted by anybody from the town, but, of course, they could not be sure.

  Maddox thought that there were risks all along the line and they would have to be tolerated. You didn’t expect things to go all your way in this kind of business.

  There were enough horses for their needs. Maddox went among the animals, checking them as best he could in the starlight. He thought they would do. He gave orders for every man to take up some lines and said that they would circle out and approach the jail from the north. The route they took was up to Billy and, by God, he’d best make it good. Patiently, he explained to the man what he wanted and Billy nodded his understanding.

  They set off east and for maybe over a mile, Billy kept them on rock. Then they hit the desert and started to angle north. The moon came out and they could see fairly well. Maddox was satisfied that so far all was going well. The men were calm and he knew that he had their confidence.

  The horses moved at no more than a walk. Nobody spoke. There was no other sound in the still night than the steady plod-plod of the horses’ hoofs and the occasional sound of one of them softly blowing. Slowly, they circled around to the north of town and after a while Maddox spoke to the Indian. The man grunted a reply.

  Maddox turned in the saddle.

  ‘Mart,’ he said, ‘you and the Indian with the horses. If you so much as smell trouble you come on the run with the horses. Otherwise, the prisoners will head this way and you see they all have a horse. Right?’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Burt, Holy—let’s go do it.’

  The three men walked their horses toward town. Pretty soon they spotted the dark lines of the few trees against the night sky. A few minutes later, they saw the dark mass that was the town itself.

  Maddox halted.

  ‘There’s one man at the jail,’ he said. ‘Burt, you quieten him. Kill him if you have to. There’s one man dead this trip and it doesn’t make any odds.’

  ‘Keno,’ Simons said. ‘You know where he’s at?’

  ‘He moves around, but mostly he’s on the street side. Go in on foot, we’ll bring the horses soon as you give the all clear.’

  Leather creaked as Simons dismounted. He handed his lines to Holy Madder and walked away into the darkness.

  The wait was suspenseful to the two men who waited, but they were pretty sure of Simons. He was the kind of man who could handle anything. They strained their ears to catch the faintest sound, bu
t they heard nothing.

  ‘Quietest man I ever knowed,’ Madder said softly.

  ‘Sure,’ Maddox said.

  An owl hooted.

  They both knew that was Simons. They walked their horses forward.

  They found him to the rear of the jail. They stepped down from their horses and ground-hitched them. They were good animals and they would stand.

  ‘Had to kill him,’ Simons said. ‘He had a hard head.’

  ‘Gaylor and the others awake?’

  ‘Sure. They’re ready.’

  Maddox said: ‘Open that door and keep it quiet, Burt. Holy and I’ll cover the street. When the door’s open, the prisoners stay inside till I’ve spoken with them. While I’m doing that, you take my place covering the street. Clear?’

  ‘Right.’

  They moved around the building. Maddox and Madder took up positions at either end of the building and watched the street. Behind them they heard Simons get to work on the door. He took five minutes and during that five minutes, in spite of their cool nerve, they sweated a lot. At the end of that time they heard a wrenching of wood and a moment later, they heard the murmur of Simons’ voice. One or two of the prisoners protested and Simons told them to shut it. Then Simons came and tapped Maddox on the shoulder.

  ‘Go ahead.’

  Simons picked up the rifle he had left with Maddox and faced the street. Maddox toted the weapons he had brought with him and walked into the fetid air of the jail. The prisoners all started to whisper at once.

  ‘Cut it out,’ Maddox said. He started handing the weapons around and giving his instructions. Gaylor was to remain with him. As he spoke the authority that had ruled them in the past got through to them. They whispered their assent. Maddox felt a hand on his arm and Gaylor’s voice came.

  ‘I knew you’d do it. Some doubted you, but I never did. Not once.’

  ‘Good. Go ahead now, men. Wait at the horses till we come. Keep your heads and you won’t only be free—you’ll be rich.’

  They filed past him.

  When the last had gone, Maddox said: ‘Now the real business of the night. We have a job to do, Wayne.’