Showdown at Gun Hill (13 page)

“Next time,” Sheriff Deluna said, casting a glance up at Sheriff Stone.

“Next time . . . ?” said Anson. He gave a chuckle in the shadowy moonlight. The men followed suit. “I can see you're fun to be around.” He looked up at Stone. “I'll go on and shoot this naked fool right now, keep him from spreading fleas.” He turned his rifle up toward Stone's bare chest. Stone curled his lip and let out a low growl.

“What about the money?” Deluna asked calmly, seeing this as her only chance to save Stone's life. “He knows where the money's hidden.”

Anson spat tobacco, shook his head and turned to face her again. “Am I flattered that I look that young and innocent to you, or just plain offended that you mistake me for a fool?” He started to turn the rifle back to Stone.

“Wait! I'm not lying,” said Sheriff Deluna. “I heard your pals the Cady brothers asking him where it's hidden. Don't you know that's why they were after him?”

Anson turned back to her and appeared to consider the matter for a moment. The other three men stared intently until finally he let out a breath.

“Let's say it's true, this hidden money,” he said in an offhand manner. “Are we talking a sizable amount? I mean, if it's only a few dollars . . .”

“How much money does it take to bribe a
territory judge
?” the woman sheriff said.

“Is that a riddle?” Anson said.

“No, I'm serious,” said Deluna. “He took money to
bribe a judge, they said. Then he didn't do it. They said he has it—I believed them.” She gave him a firm, level stare.

“All right, but now the Cadys are dead, so we'll never really know,” said Anson.

“They're not dead,” said Deluna. “I didn't kill them. One of them is wounded, I think.”

“You didn't kill them?” Anson looked at her in disbelief. “I've never seen anybody who wouldn't kill a Cady if they had one in their sights.”

“I didn't,” said Deluna. “I took their horses, left them stranded. There's a buggy and two loose horses back there. All they've got to do is round them up and they'll be coming out.”

Anson spat again, gave a dark grin and said, “You're giving ol' Lyle and Iggy more credit than I ever would.” He turned to the other three riflemen. “Couple of you ride out, get them two turds and bring them along the trail. We'll take the two sheriffs here and catch up with the others.”

“You mean we're not going to kill Stone?” Ape asked, sounding disappointed.

“Haven't you been listening, Ape?” said Anson.

“What about her, then?” Ape asked, pressing the point.

Anson turned back to Deluna and grinned in contemplation as he chewed his wad of tobacco.

“We'll see,” he said. “I've always wanted a
pet sheriff
. Never dreamed I'd have one I'd enjoy bouncing on my lap.”

Sheriff Deluna lowered her eyes, hearing the riflemen laugh quietly at Anson's remark. This was not the time to reply. This was the time to stay silent, for both
her and Sheriff Stone's sake. She forced herself to look away from Bo Anson, out across the dark purple sand flats. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, thinking about the short, sharp knife, sheath and all, stuck down deep inside her boot well.

In the early-morning light, Bo Anson brought his riders to a halt and watched as Leon Foley rode toward them on the trail. Spotting Anson, Foley waved his hat back and forth above his head and kicked his horse up into a gallop. Anson sat his horse at the head of his riders and rested his gloved hands atop his saddle horn.

“Now I suppose I'll be saddled with this idiot all day,” he said to Ape Boyd as Boyd sidled his horse on his left.

“I can shoot him, Bo,” Ape volunteered.

Anson looked him up and down.

“The colonel sent him, Ape,” he said. “Think I ought to first hear what he has to say?”

Ape didn't answer; he just stared ahead as Foley approached. Five minutes later Foley slid his horse to a halt crosswise in front of Anson. Dust rose around the riders.

“Man, am I glad I found you so early!” Foley said to Anson when his horse jolted to a stop. “I was afraid I'd be riding the flats all day.” He put his hat back on and pressed it down against a warm morning breeze.
“Lucky me, huh,” he said, “finding you already on the trail?”

“Yeah, I'm thrilled for you,” Anson said in a flat tone, fanning a gloved hand against the dust. “Why'd the colonel send you looking for us?”

“He wanted me to scout you out and tell you to hurry up. We're headed back to Gun Hill,” Foley said.

Hurry up?
Anson almost chuffed out loud.

“Headed back to Gun Hill?
Why?
” he asked.

“Because a rider came out from the rail station there and said Mr. Siedell's train is in town—” He caught himself and stopped and said, “Oops, I don't think I was supposed to tell you that part. I was just supposed to tell you the colonel's on his way.”

“I won't mention it,” Anson said, the wheels already turning in his mind.

“Just how far back is the colonel?” he asked, crossing his wrists again.

“Four or five miles,” Foley said, still elated at having found Anson and the new men so close on the low hill trail. “That's what I meant about being lucky that I—”

“I got it,” Anson said, cutting him short. “Now shut up and leave it alone.” He half turned in his saddle and spoke back to the rest of the men. “We're stopping right here, boys, waiting for the good colonel.”

The men relaxed in their saddles, having already heard how close the colonel was to them.

“What's so important the colonel wants us waiting right here? We could ride on and meet him along the trail.”

“I have no idea on that matter,” Foley said. “I'm always saying I have no business being a detective.”

“Nonsense, you don't mean it,” Anson said.

“No, I really do,” Foley said. He looked back at the dust-streaked buggy sitting close behind Anson, the ragged, bloody Cady brothers sitting in it.

“My goodness, what happed to them?” he asked, seeing only one tired bay pulling the two-horse rig. Lyle had caught the horse and hitched it just before Anson's men had arrived and escorted the brothers back to the trail.

“It's a long story,” Anson said grimly, glancing back over his shoulder at the Cadys. Lyle drove the buggy while Ignacio lay sprawled to the side, his bloody bullet-shattered upper arm wrapped in his torn-off shirtsleeve. A foot-long length of iron wagon frame served as a splint. “How many men are riding with the colonel now?”

“Seven, same as when you left,” Foley said with a shrug. He gave Anson a questioning look.

Anson returned the shrug.

“I figured he might've got some of them killed since then.” He gave Foley a thin, wry smile.

“No, everybody's fine,” Foley said, not realizing that Anson was only making a dark joke. That he couldn't care less about the colonel or his men. The naive detective looked back at the woman, her dusty ragged dress, and at the nearly naked man on the horse beside her, his head bowed beneath the floppy hat brim. “Who's that?” he asked Anson.

Anson studied his face for a second with a flat stare as if deciding what to do with the man. Finally he gave
out a resolved breath and straightened a little in his saddle.

“She's my sister,” he said. “And that's my crazy cousin, Lonzo, beside her. Keep your hands off her—him too, for that matter.”

“My goodness,” Foley said for the second time. He looked bewildered at the naked Sheriff Stone. Then he looked back at Anson and asked, “Why is your cousin naked?”

“That's a whole other long story,” Anson said with the same flat stare. He leaned forward a little, eyed Foley closer and said, “Look at me, fool. I'm obliged you brought us the colonel's message. But ask me one more question and I will leave you lying dead in the dirt.”

Foley sat stunned for a moment. But he wasn't able to keep his mouth shut for long.

“What on earth for?” he said. “How else can I know anything without asking—”

The roar of Ape Boyd's big Starr silenced the young detective and sent him flying backward from his saddle. Foley's spooked horse reared and turned on its hind hooves. It touched down and darted back along the trail.

Sheriff Deluna kept herself from gasping and looked away as if not wanting to see anything she shouldn't.

“Jesus, Ape, that was right in my ear!” shouted Anson, rounding a finger deep into his left ear against the loud ringing. “What the hell?”

“Didn't you want me to shoot him?” Ape asked. “You said
one more
question. He already asked
two.
” He held up two large grimy fingers. “I just figured . . .”

“All right,” Anson said. “It makes no difference. That one was just looking for somebody to kill him every time he opened his mouth.” He gazed down at Foley lying in the dust. “Drag him off the trail and throw some sand over him—give him a cat burial, before the colonel gets here.”

As Ape stepped down and Roland Crispe joined him to drag the dead detective off the trail, Anson swung his horse around and rode back a few feet to where the woman and Stone sat their horses side by side.

“Get down and give the Cadys their horses back, and both of you get in the buggy,” he said to Deluna.

Sheriff Deluna nodded at Sheriff Stone beside her. “Can he have a duster or something? He's burning up alive out here bare-chested.”

Anson chewed as he looked Stone up and down. Then he spat and said, “Naw, he's a tough lawman. Sun won't hurt him.”

“The sun will kill him,” Deluna said.

“So?” said Anson. “It won't kill him before he tells us where the bribe money is.” He gave a crooked tobacco-chewing grin. “If it does, just reach over and give him a shove. I've got something bigger on the spit right now. I'll have to deal with him later.” He touched his hat brim, backed his horse and turned it away. Hearing the conversation from the buggy seat, Lyle Cady looked up at Anson.

“Can we switch right now?” he asked.

“I don't care,” Anson said in passing, nudging his horse forward back to the head of the riders. “Get switched and come up front. Sit beside me.”

“Iggy, wake up,” said Lyle. “We're getting our horses back.”

“Oh, why now?” Ignacio asked in a pained voice.

“I expect Bo must've decided he's tormented us enough,” Lyle said. “Says he wants us to come join him up front. Maybe he's giving us our guns back.”

“What about the bribe money?” asked Ignacio. “Did Stone tell him anything yet?”

“Not yet,” said Lyle. “Anson said he's got something more important going on right now.”

“Damn it,” Ignacio groaned in pain. “That's our money, not Anson's.”

“Keep your mouth shut, Iggy,” Lyle whispered, wrapping the buggy reins around the short brake handle.

On the horses, Sheriff Deluna looked over at Stone and adjusted his flop hat brim. She glanced down at his empty holster and noticed that his loincloth had slipped a little to one side, exposing him.

“Are you ever going to come back to your senses?” she asked quietly, not even expecting an answer from Stone as he reached down and adjusted the loincloth to cover his lap against the burning sun.

“I'm . . . trying,” he whispered with much effort.

Deluna stared at him, stunned for a moment. Then she saw the Cadys standing beside their horses, Iggy with his splinted upper arm stuck out to the side.

“All right, get down from there,” Lyle said sharply. “You've been riding our horses long enough.”

Stepping down, Deluna helped the half-conscious Stone over to the buggy and up into the seat. She looked
around as the Cadys mounted their horses and rode up front beside Anson.

“All right, men,” Anson called out loudly enough for all the riders to hear him. “This is what we've been waiting for. Roland, you and Charlie take the buggy out of sight. I don't trust the woman sheriff far as I can throw her.” He glared back at Deluna as he spoke. Then he turned to the Cadys and said, “I see you both have bandannas. Pull them up over your mouths.”

“What?” Lyle said in disbelief. Ignacio just stared, his broken arm out to the side.

Anson's rifle swung up at him from across his lap.

“You heard me. Now, don't make me say it again. I'll kill you, bribe money or not.”

“Can I smack them, Bo?” Ape asked. The Cadys looked at him, again in disbelief.

“Not now, Ape,” said Anson. He raised a hand and waved the riders forward. “Let's go, men. I want us to be moving along the trail when the colonel finds us.”

Lyle and Ignacio gave each other a puzzled look. But they kept quiet and nudged their horses forward beside Bo Anson and Ape Boyd.

*   *   *

An hour later, the colonel saw Bo Anson and the newly hired riders moving along the trail toward him, and he hurried his detectives and rail guards forward the last quarter of a mile. As Colonel Hinler and his men drew closer to Anson and the new riders, Anson saw one of the detectives riding beside the colonel leading Foley's horse by its reins.

“Everybody stay cool and calm,” Anson said to the
riders bunching up behind him. “This might get touchy right off.”

Ape hefted his rifle in his hand and said, “Want me to—”

“No, Ape,” Bo said, cutting the big man off before he could even ask. “I said stay cool and calm. Just keep doing what I told you to do.” He gestured a nod at the Cadys. “Keep them quiet.”

Ape settled, and stared hard at the two brothers as they swayed in their saddles. They looked just as Anson had wanted them to. Each of them now had a large purple gun barrel welt across their foreheads, their bandannas tied tightly to cover their mouths. Their hands had been tied in front of them. Ape led their horses on a short rope.

“Here we go, men,” Anson said quietly to Ape and the others. “You all know what to do.” He watched the colonel stop his horse ten feet in front of him, his detectives behind him. A wide, harsh grin came to Hinler's face as he looked at the battered faces and tied hands of the Cady brothers.

“By Godfrey!” he said to Anson. “I see you've snared a couple of the scoundrels.”

Oh yeah, we're good,
Anson assured himself.

“That's right, Colonel,” he said. “We don't miss a thing. This desert is ours.”

At the sight of the colonel and his men, Lyle Cady grew hopeful. He struggled to speak, but the bandanna muffled his voice to a series of grunts.

“No more out of you,” Ape said, swiping the barrel of his Starr sidelong across Lyle's jaw. Lyle's head
bounced backward as if on hinges. He slumped back down in his saddle.

“What was that man saying?” the colonel asked.

“It makes no never mind,” Anson said. “Probably cussing you and your whole family. They're some real heathens, this Bard Gang.”

“Indeed,” said the colonel. “Well, we'll see how much cussing he does hanging from a limb.” He looked all around the barren terrain as if searching for a hanging tree. Seeing none, he grumbled to himself and then looked back at Anson. “Good work, Bo,” he said. He looked around at the new faces. “I take it these are the men from across the border you spoke of?”

“They are,” said Anson. “Men,” he called out over his shoulder, “meet Colonel Hinler, the man I've been boasting about these past days.”

The colonel gave a nod to the men. The men touched their hat brims in return.

“You'll learn everybody's name in time, Colonel,” Anson said. “I figured you'll want all the men to get to know each other straightaway.” He waved the new men forward. “Go introduce yourselves, boys. These men will be your trail pards while you're riding for the colonel.”

The colonel turned his horse a little as the new men filed past him. Ape remained beside Anson, the Cady brothers' horses in hand. Lyle's eyes opened a little, but he dared not say a word, seeing Ape snarl at him under his breath.

“Have you happened to see a rider I sent out to find you?” the colonel asked Anson pointedly. “That's his
horse back there.” He nodded back at his detectives as the new men spread out and rode in close to them, some touching their hat brims, others extending their hands in friendship. “We found the animal a while ago, shortly after hearing a gunshot.” He studied Anson closely.