Slip Gun (15 page)

Carrying the knife around and
out to the extent of his right arm, Woodstole pivoted on his left
foot and carried the right forward to stride in
Smith
’s
direction.

Even as
Woodstole’s actions went a warning
screaming through Smith, while the slip gun’s barrel pointed up
from the recoil, the Englishman continued his movements. About to
throw himself sideways and, if he avoided the attack, turn his Colt
on his assailant, Smith saw Woodstole swing away from
him.

Swirling around on his right
foot, the Englishman whipped the knife forward parallel to the
ground. Giving a sharp, snapping motion to his wrist, he flung his
weapon in Arnie
Sheppey’s direction. Doing so caused it to spin around on a
slightly upwards plane and pass through the air with an audible
‘whoosh!’. Luck, or an accurate estimation of distance and the
revolutions of the knife, caused the blade to be swinging inwards
as it reached the man.

Razor-sharp steel sliced into
Sheppey
’s
Adam’s apple, the weight of the knife and its spinning flight’s
momentum driving it deeper and deeper. Dropping the smoking,
uncocked revolver, he clawed unavailingly at the strangely-shaped
weapon which protruded from his throat. With his life’s blood
spurting from the wound, he tottered around in a crazy circle and
collapsed

Struck by Tod
’s staggering body as he cut
loose, the third man knew that he had missed Smith. Although he was
aware that Woodstole had selected the other brother as target for
the strange knife, the man knew that he still was not out of
danger. Dragging out his old Army Colt, Hopkirk slanted its eight
inch long barrel in the man’s direction.

With commendable speed, the
man
’s left
hand caught hold of Tod’s sleeve. A surging heave sent the stricken
Tod reeling to intercept the bullet fired by the old rancher.
Having protected himself, the man flung himself across the room.
Gun in hand, he sped along parallel to the counter. Both of the
bartenders ducked out of sight. Women screamed and men hurled
themselves to the floor, or crouched behind tables. In doing so,
they effectively prevented Smith and Hopkirk from taking shots at
the departing man. Ducking his head down and left shoulder forward,
he plunged through a side window to disappear from view.

Regaining an upright position, Smith leapt
in pursuit. Charging through the excited occupants of the room, he
flattened himself against the wall by the window. Fast as he had
moved, on peering cautiously out he found that the man had acted
even faster. On quitting the building, he must have landed running
for he was nowhere to be seen.

Smith remembered the horses at the hitching
rail. Three carried double-girthed saddles such as Texans, many New
Mexicans of Anglo-Saxon origin and Arizonans used. The Sheppey
brothers hailed from the latter Territory. Deciding that the horses
belonged to the trio, he sprinted towards the batwing doors.
Already Hopkirk and Woodstole, the latter now holding an Artillery
Model Peacemaker, were preparing to go out through them. Joining
them, Smith plunged on to the sidewalk. He landed ready to throw
lead. There was no need. The man had not come around the front to
collect the means of making good his mistake.

‘
Blast
it!’ Hopkirk spat out. ‘He’s hornswoggled us.’

‘
Round
the back!’ Woodstole went on.

Although the three men ran to the corner,
through the alley and to the rear of the building, they saw no sign
of the third man. He had clearly wasted no time in leaving the
vicinity of the saloon. Nor did there appear to be anybody around
who could shed light on the direction he had taken.

‘
We’ve
lost him!’ Hopkirk declared, angrily thrusting the Army Colt back
into its holster.

‘
If
it’s not a personal question,’ Woodstole remarked to Smith as they
returned their weapons to leather and retracted their footsteps
along the alley. ‘Who were those chaps?’

‘
I
don’t know the feller who got away,’ Smith admitted. ‘But the other
two’re Tod ’n’ Arnie Sheppey. I shot their brother down in Arizona
a couple of years back. Word’s been going ’round that they was
gunning for me on ‘count of it.’

‘
Come
up here a-hunting for you, huh?’ suggested Hopkirk.

‘
More
likely they just happened to be around,’ Smith answered. ‘Knew I’d
recognize them and started to stop me doing it out loud. There’s a
bounty on each of their scalps.’ Then he recalled something. ‘I
haven’t thanked you two gents for siding me in there.’

‘
Had to
do something, old boy,’ Woodstole drawled, in a languid manner
which did not match the speed he had shown in drawing and throwing
the knife. ‘Those blighters looked a bit aggressive and had to be
stopped before somebody was hurt.’

‘
Didn’t
reckon you could take the three of ’em, neither,’ Hopkirk
continued. ‘So I cut loose with my old Colt ’n’ Poona started
tossing his
kukri
around. Danged heathen weapon.’

‘
Your
what?
Smith asked the Englishman.

‘
Kukri?
Woodstole elaborated. ‘I learned how to use it while I was
serving with the Gurkhas in Poona.’

‘
They’re some blasted Injun tribe in what he says’s the real
Injia,’ Hopkirk explained. ‘Like I tell him, our Injuns’s allus
been real enough for me.’

Smith knew that Great Britain ruled a
country called India. There was more than a hint of military
training about Wood-stole. According to what he had said, some of
his service had been with the native troops who used the strange
kind of knife he carried. That reference to Poona accounted for his
unusual first name. Maybe, like Smith, he had been christened after
the town of his birth.

However, at that moment Smith
felt less interested in the Englishman
’s past than about the present. If
Woodstole and Hopkirk had wanted him dead, they could have achieved
their ends by not moving so fast, letting the Sheppey boys kill him
and then wiping them out. That last would have prevented the
brothers from answering questions in the event of their capture.
Smith was inclined to believe that finding Woodstole’s name on the
message had been no more than a coincidence. He must look elsewhere
for the person who wanted to have him gunned down.

Did the answer await him inside the
saloon?

Going in ahead of the ranchers, Smith found
Wil and Lily on their feet. Brushing the sawdust from her dress,
Lily was telling the customers to go ahead with whatever they had
been doing before the fuss. Although slightly paler than when she
had entered, Wil looked composed and tidied her appearance with
steady hands. Both girls turned towards the men.

‘
He got
away,’ Lily remarked, stating the obvious.

‘
Clean
away,’ Smith agreed and searched her face for any sign of relief at
the news. ‘How long had they been in here?’

‘
Since
just after we opened,’ Lily replied, showing no emotion and meeting
his gaze without wavering. ‘You knew them?’

‘
Only
the two who took lead,’ Smith answered. ‘Have they been in here
afore?’

‘
Not
that I could swear to. But I don’t recall every feller’s comes.
I’ll ask around among the boys and girls for you.’

‘
I’d be
right obliged if you would,’ Smith drawled.

Armed with shotguns, the town marshal and
two deputies arrived. Tall, burly, Marshal Caster was a different
class of peace officer to Sheriff McCobb and looked poorly-dressed
enough to be honest. He did not impress Smith as being an
office-filler. Studying him, Smith wondered why he had agreed to
stand down during the fair. It might have been an opportunity for
him to impress important visitors and maybe gain employment in a
larger town.

Showing some surprise at finding the mayor
in the saloon, Caster did not allow it to distract him. He asked
what had been the cause of the trouble and listened while
Woodstole, Hopkirk and Smith told their stories. All the time, his
eyes roamed over Smith.

‘
Seems
like they was hunting you, Mr. Smith,’ Caster commented at
last.

‘
Looks
that way,’ Smith admitted noncommittally, watching Lily to see how
she took his remark on the trio’s motives. Nothing showed and he
went on, ‘The Sheppey boys’re wanted down to Prescott, There’s
seven hundred and fifty dollars on each of ’em.’

‘
And
you aim to claim it?’ Caster said coldly.

‘
That’s
what rewards are put on for, marshal,’ Smith replied.

‘
Can’t
say I’ve ever took much to bounty hunters,’ Caster
stated.

‘
And I
don’t take to local peace officers who pull out when the going
looks like it’s getting tough,’ Smith answered.

Remembering what Wil had told
him during the opening stages of their interview, Smith realized
that he was doing Caster an injustice. Always a believer in fair
play, the Texan was prepared to forget his annoyance at the
marshal
’s
comment about bounty hunters.

‘
That
was my decision rather than Marshal Caster’s,’ Wil put in; ‘It took
some argument before he agreed. The marshal’s got a lot of friends
in and around town and they’ll all be here for the
fair—’

‘
So he
doesn’t want to rile ’em by arresting them or
their
friends, which he might have to do,
while, they’re celebrating,’ Smith drawled. ‘That’s smart thinking
seeing’s how he’ll be handling the new law here long after we’re
gone.’

‘
Yes,
Mr. Smith,’ Wil said with a smile. ‘You’re hired as whipping-boys,
if you know what I mean.’

‘
I’ve
heard tell about them,’ Smith declared. ‘And, for what you’re
paying me, folks can whip ahead.’

Caster had continued to study
the Texan. In his time as a peace officer, the marshal had been
brought into contact with a number of professional bounty hunters.
He knew that the majority of them were cold-blooded killers little
better morally than the wanted men they hunted down. While Ottaway,
whom he had already met, struck Caster as being close to that kind,
he sensed that Smith was different. His every instinct, combined
with some knowledge of Smith
’s past, told him that the Texan would be hard,
but fair in the execution of the difficult work ahead. More than
that, Smith accepted how he had been brought into face the
objections of citizens who ran afoul of the law during the
celebrations at the fair. When it was over, those same citizens
would have no cause to hold grudges against their regular law
enforcement officers.

‘
I
shouldn’t have said what I did about bounty hunters, Mr. Smith,’
Caster apologized.

‘
Why
not, happen you feel that way on it?’ Smith answered. ‘I don’t go
much for ’em myself. But if I have to down somebody with a bounty
on his head, I’ll claim it. If I don’t, somebody with no right to
the money will.’

‘
Likely,’ the marshal conceded. ‘Do you want to take over
today?’

‘
If
that’ll be all right with you,’ the Texan replied. ‘There’s no
rush, one way or the other.’

‘
Happen
it suits you, I’ll show you ’round the town afore I start my
vacation,’ Caster offered.

‘
I’d be
right obliged if you would,’ Smith agreed, knowing it would be
folly to refuse such valuable information.

‘
Let me
tend to things here,’ Caster suggested. ‘Then we can get to
it.’

‘
I’ve
got to go to a meeting with Miss Jeffreys at noon,’ Smith drawled.
‘Shouldn’t last more than an hour—’

‘
Not
that long, happen I’ve my way,’ Hopkirk growled.

‘
Happen
it’s all right with you,’ Smith continued to the marshal. ‘We’ll
meet up, take a meal at the Simple Hotel and talk some.’

‘
That’s
all right with me,’ Caster agreed. ‘Go through their pockets, boys,
then have them toted to the undertaker’s.’

‘
Sure,
Bert,’ answered the older of the deputies.

‘
Want
to see what they’re carrying, friend?’ the marshal
inquired.

‘
Don’t
reckon it’ll be anything to interest me,’ Smith replied, determined
to keep Lily—if she should be involved—convinced that he suspected
nothing. ‘And you can say “Wax”, happen it comes easier than
“friend”.’

‘
Hey,
Wax,’ Lily remarked as the marshal and his deputies went to attend
to their work. ‘How about coming to see the new sign?’

‘
Why
not,’ the Texan replied. That’s what we’re here for.’

While the others had been
talking, Woodstole had collected the
kukri
and borrowed a rag from behind the bar to wipe off
the blood. Slipping the curved blade back into its sheath, he
followed the others to the backroom. Throwing open its door with a
flourish, Lily waved for them to precede her. Inside the room, a
slim young man wearing a paint-spattered smock stopped his work on
the long board set up against the far wall.