I'm Off to Montana for to Throw the Hoolihan (Code of the West) (17 page)

“Come on, Roundy, now’s the time to show your stuff.”

The big gelding leaped the back wall of the house, trampled across the dirt floor that was once the living room, and jumped the front wall. Ezra and Peter Miller huddled down in the eight-foot-deep hole that took up half the cabin.

He saw a puff of gunpowder from the short pine trees on the right and heard the report of the gun, but he couldn’t tell how close the bullet came. His two-inch Spanish rowels raked the big horse. They rumbled up the north side of the creekbed like a locomotive an hour behind schedule. Se
veral more shots rang out. Water splashed in the creek ten feet behind him.

He refrained from returning fire and bore down on the clump of aspens at the jog in the creek. Four horses were tied behind the trees. They danced and pawed and tugged at their lead ropes when they heard the galloping hooves.

Are there four of ’em?

Two shots rang out from down the creek and splintered the white trunks of the aspens thirty yards behind Tap.

If I take their horses, they’ll turn on Ezra and Peter and go after the wagon. If I leave their horses, they’ll come after me.

Shots rang out closer.

“Roundy, only two of ’em are shootin’ at us. Those two horses with loose cinches probably haven’t been ridden in a while. I surmise they belong to Jackson and Bean.”

Tap jumped down, untied all four horses, and slapped two in the rump until they trotted off toward the trees. He fired two shots in the general direction of the southern gunman and two toward the north. Then he remounted and led the other two horses behind him as he cantered down the creekbed.

Well hidden in the brush, he stopped and pulled his Winchester. Flipping up the long-range peep sight on the upper tang, he sighted in the two saddle horses that now grazed only a few yards from the aspen.

A man in a long wool coat broke out of the woods and ran t
oward the horses. Tap squeezed the trigger and sent rocks flying between the man and the horses. The animals panicked and sprinted into the trees. The man dove to the dirt and fired a couple of wide shots in Tap’s direction.

“That ought to keep them all thinkin’, for a few minutes anyway. Come on, Roundy, we’ve got a couple of outlaws to round up.”

If I know those Sash boys, they’ll be as mad as a broke cowboy in a dance hall. They’ll catch those horses and come after me. It’ll be dark in an hour, so I’ll just have to see how good they can track.

Tap led the horses straight up the creekbed for a couple of miles. Even in the shadows of an October night, he spo
tted the red bandanna still flagged around Jackson’s neck. Tap pulled his Colt and cocked the hammer as he approached.

“You got our horses,” Bean yelled. “I didn’t figure we’d ever see you again.”

Tap rode up next to the bound bank robbers, then turned to see if he was being followed. “This is your lucky day.”

“Did you kill ’em?” Bean quizzed.

“Nope.”

Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “Did you get the money?”

“I figure that’s back at the Pothook-H headquarters by now. I told you I was goin’ to see a friend. It just happens I came upon these ponies. For the life of me, I can’t figure why they were keepin’ your horses out here.”

“Maybe they were coming back for us, like I said,” Jac
kson suggested.

“And maybe they wanted to ride you down to the river and shoot you. They surely didn’t want the U.S. Marshal comin’ up here lookin’ for you.”

“Cut us down, Andrews. I’ve got no feelin’ left in my hands or my feet,” Bean protested.

“Boys, we’re ridin’ to the ranch tonight. A couple of the gang will be comin’ after us. There’s no time for a fire. Does that trail you came up lead back to the Yellowstone?”

Bean nodded as Tap cut the skinny rope that held him. He stumbled and collapsed to the ground.

Tap shoved the gun into the back of Bean’s neck. “If you try to escape, I’ll shoot you. You’d be a lot easier to pack out of here strapped to your saddle. But if you mind your ma
nners, I’ll let you ride out. It’s up to you. Make it easy on me, or make it easy on you. Which is it?”

“I can’t even move my hands,” Bean groaned. “I won’t cause you no trouble.”

“Which horse is yours?”

“The bay.”

“Put your hands behind your back,” Tap ordered.

“My hands is numb.”

“Good, then this won’t hurt.”

Bean mounted his horse, hands tied behind his back. Tap took a rope off the bank robber’s saddle and tied it to the sa
ddle horn. Leaving a four-foot section, he tied the other end around Bean’s neck with a slip knot.

“You cain’t do that. If I fall off, I’ll hang myself.”

“I reckon you’re right. And if you try to jump off, the same thing will happen.”

“You ain’t goin’ to do that to me,” Jackson called out.

Tap whipped around with his Colt and jammed the barrel against Jackson’s neck. “Why don’t you make a run for it and save me a lot of hassle?”

“I’m tied to a tree.”

“I can take care of that.” Tap shoved his revolver back into the holster, pulled his knife out of his boot, and sliced the ropes that held Jackson. The man staggered at Tap and threw a wild punch. Stepping back, Tap met the lunging man with an uppercut to the chin.

Stunned, Jackson stood straight up. Tap’s roundhouse right slammed into the left side of his jaw. He collapsed on his back.

Tap rolled Jackson over and tied his hands and feet together. Then he hefted the robber like a sack of wheat and flopped him across the saddle on his stomach. Taking some of the sliced-up maguey, Tap lashed Jackson in place by the time the man came around.

“I can’t ride this way." Jackson tried to kick his feet free.

“Why, sure you can. You boys just lack self-confidence. The only thing you have to worry about is fallin’ off. So try and stay in the center of that saddle.”

Tap tied the reins of Bean’s horse to the cantle strings of Jac
kson’s saddle. He did the same between Roundhouse and Jackson’s horse and then led the parade up the side of the mountain under a starlit October night.

“Let me loose, Andrews,” Jackson yelled.

“You ought to be thankful you’re not still tied to a tree. Or I didn’t coldcock you. Or you aren’t dead. You got to admit, that’s better than you figured.”

“We’ll kill you, Andrews. We’ll get away, and we’ll kill you,” Jac
kson threatened.

“The other day I spotted Indian pony tracks on this trail. I think it’s a hunting route for them. If you keep yellin’, you’re liable to draw attention. And I’m tellin’ you right now, if they show up, I’ll drop the two of you and ride on out of here. It could be to your advantage to keep real quiet.”

Tap didn’t know if Jackson and Bean got any sleep during the night, but he did. Several times along the trail he caught himself waking up from a short nap. Meanwhile, Roundhouse continued his long-legged plod.

Twice they stopped and huddled around a campfire, once at the edge of Cedar Mesa and again along the Yellowstone. Jac
kson settled down and rode most of the way sitting in the saddle like Bean. Both had ropes tied hard and fast to the saddle horn and looped around their necks.

A cloud cover blew in after midnight, and the trail became harder to follow. Tap circled the ranch and entered the hea
dquarters from the river, hoping to lose the pursuers along the way. He was counting on them wanting to visit Starke and Cantrell’s or just giving up and returning to the Pothook-H. In the darkness Tap had no way of determining if they were being followed.

The first gray light of morning found them walking their e
xhausted horses up the drive to Slash-Bar-4 headquarters. Even in the dim light, Tap could see the familiar silhouettes of the big house and barn . . . and tepee.

A tepee? What’s that doing here?

“You got Indians livin’ here, Andrews?” Bean questioned.

“Eh . . . they’re just visitin’,” he mumbled.

This doesn’t look like a ranch. It looks like a traders’ fort. I was only gone one day.

A thin gray column of smoke rose from the cook shack. Tap could see lantern light in the west window. His rifle in his right hand, he circled around by the unpainted wood-framed buil
ding.

“Howdy, I need a little help out here,” he hollered.

Clothed in a Hudson Bay blanket coat and moccasins to his knees, Howdy Renten stepped out on the porch. He stared at the two bound men.

“You want me to feed ’em or hang ’em?” he asked.

“Neither. Help me put those iron hobbles on—”

“You ain’t puttin’ no hobbles on me,” Jackson shouted.

“In that case, hang ’em.”

“Wait,” Bean hollered. “You didn’t hear me complain none.”

“I’m goin’ to kill you, Andrews,” Jackson growled.

“I’ve kept these two bank ro
bbers alive all night, and all they do is complain.”

Howdy Renten stepped to the edge of the porch and squinted. “These the ones that took potshots at us, knifed your arm, and robbed the Billings bank?”

“Yeah, but they went up in the mountains and got themselves robbed.”

“Robbers gettin’ robbed?” Howdy mumbled as he marched the two men over to the blacksmith’s shop. “A man can’t rob a bank and ride away anymore. Someone else comes along and takes your hard-earned money. What’s this land comin’ to?”

Tap held the rifle on them while Howdy fastened the heavy iron hobbles and chains on both their right ankles.

“Why did you do it that way?” Bean complained. “Now one of us has to walk backwards wherever we go.”

“You catch on fast.” Tap slipped the ropes off their necks but left their hands tied. “You boys head for the barn, and I’ll chain you up in a stall with clean straw. Howdy will give you a pan of grub, and in a bit one of us will drive you into Billings. Boys, you’re goin’ to get out of the cold, get some rest, and be fed. That’s a lot more than you deserve.”

“I’m still goin’ to kill you,” Jackson growled.

Tap pulled the saddles and curried the horses as Renten finished chaining Jackson and Bean to an empty stall.

Howdy drawled, “Ain’t you goin’ to ask me about that lodge out there?”

“I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.” Tap rubbed down Roundhouse with a rolled-up burlap sack.

“Don’t that beat all?” Howdy said to the two chained men. “He’s got a family of Crows camped out on the front porch, and he ain’t even curious.”

Tap let his gray felt hat drop to his back and hang by the stampede string. He rubbed the back of his neck and could feel his brown hair jammed against his coat collar. “Are they hungry?”

Howdy Renten circled Bean’s horse, lifting each hoof as he went. “No, they’re mad as a house cat in a stock tank.”

Tap rubbed some liniment into the gelding’s right foreleg. “Did we do somethin’ wrong?”

“Not yet. They want you to help ’em catch somebody. He speaks mighty good English, but he don’t talk much. At least, not to me.”

“Why us? Why not go to the Indian Agency or the U.S. Marshal or the county sheriff?”

Renten led Bean’s horse to a stall. “That’s what I couldn’t make out. He said he’d just camp out there and wait until T
apadera Andrews got home.”

“He knew my name?”

“Yep. Ain’t that something? Must make you feel important.”

Tap put a scoop of oats in a feed bag and fastened it on Roun
dhouse’s head. “Makes me feel suspicious. What else is goin’ on around here?”

“I hear your missus wasn’t feelin’ too swift yesterday but  A
ngelita is lookin’ after her. Them Miller kids swarm over the whole ranch and I ain’t seen toe to ear of Mr. or Mrs. Odessa.”

“Are you sure they came back in that carriage?” Tap stalled his big gray and ignored the glares of Jackson and Bean.

“Someone’s in there talkin’ and laughin’ and eatin’ the supper I put on the porch.”

“Well, I better get up to the house and see how Mama is.”

“What do you want me to do if these two try to escape?” Howdy asked.

“Shoot ’em.”

Angelita was building up a fire in the rock fireplace. She jumped and choked at the sound of the creaking front door. “You scared me.” 

“It didn’t seem right for a man to have to knock on his own front door. How’s Mama?”

“Did you see Peter Miller?”

“I heard she was a little under the weather.”

“Did they get themselves shot?”

“Is she awake yet? Maybe I better go up and check.”

“Mrs. Miller is worried sick. She just sits in the bunkhouse rocking the baby and staring out the window.”

“Maybe I should take Pepper to Billings to a doctor when I take those bank robbers back.”

“Did you know a lodge of Crow Indians set up camp in the pasture yesterday?” Angelita pressed.

“I should move you both into a hotel until after baby is born.”