Durant kicked the safe door closed and Bo gave a little cry. “Durant, are you loco? There’s a fortune in that safe. By hell, if you don’t want it, let me at it. Some of it belongs to Bo and me anyway.”
Blake Durant took the keys from Cherry and opened the other cells. Then, as Bo lunged at him, Durant kicked the bottom cell door shut and hurled the keys into the jailhouse yard.
Strawbridge wheeled on Durant, fists lifting, face scarlet with anger. His brother left his cell and regarded Durant curiously. Like his brother he was gunless, but unlike Bo he had no desire to mix it with Durant. In fact, during his stay in the cell, Bede had decided that he’d had enough of brawling with anybody. His head was split open where Traversi’s gun butt had struck him and his face was tight from the bruises and gashes received in his saloon yard fight with Bo. Bede told himself that his fighting days were over—after he’d evened the score with Traversi.
“Quit it, Bo,” Bede said. “Durant knows what he’s doing.”
Cherry was standing in the open back doorway. He licked at his lips, craving for the money still running through him.
“Quit?” Bo barked at his brother. “Are you loco, too? Traversi’s been drainin’ this town dry for months. He’s got enough money in there to get us a place of our own.”
“We’d never work it,” Bede said, then he moved across to the desk, tipped Bannon out of the seat and lifted two gunbelts from a wall hook. He and Bo were buckling their guns on when the front door opened.
Alec Day came a step into the jailhouse, looking bored until he saw the four men. The shock at finding Cherry and Durant there made him reel back. Then his hand went to his gun.
Cherry wheeled, going into a crouch. Before Day’s Colt was clear, Cherry’s gun exploded.
Day was punched through the doorway by the bullet. He fell to the boards outside, squirmed for a moment and then lay still.
Bo Strawbridge called out, “Come on, Bede, let’s get to hell outa here!”
Bede needed no second invitation. Breaking into a run he thundered across the room. Durant looked sourly at Cherry and said:
“Well, that puts out the signals. No matter what happens, stick close to me.”
Cherry gave him a disdainful look and went down the steps. The Strawbridge brothers, moving at good speed for such big men, brushed past Cherry, knocking him aside. Bo’s boot caught on the ring of cell keys and kicked them further into the yard. Cherry swore.
Then Blake Durant came out, closing the jailhouse door behind him. Darkness flooded the yard. Cherry swung his gun around to Durant.
“Damn you!” Cherry clipped out. “All that money ...”
Durant said, “We’ve got a town of hellions to fight, Cherry. Keep your mind on that.”
Cherry stood tall, his face working. Then the sound of running steps came from the street boardwalk. Cherry turned and broke into a sprint, heading for the store yard. As he climbed the broken fence, men came streaming from the stables beyond the jailhouse lane. He and Durant were trapped in a crossfire.
Bullets began to whine around them. They ran to the saloon yard where another group of men, led by Judge Joe Alroe Eggert, confronted them. Eggert stepped away from the others, his face black with hate.
“I’ve been waitin’ for you pair!” he snarled and his gun erupted.
Cherry dived to the right, Durant to the left. Then, seeing Cherry getting near the saloon’s back door, Durant took his chances and tore across the open yard after him. A bullet tugged at his range coat sleeve and another ripped through his flying bandanna. Durant’s hand smashed hard down on Cherry’s back and pitched him forward as a bullet gouged Durant’s shoulder. He staggered under the impact of the slug, then he was inside the saloon. As he closed the door he saw a wild-eyed Cherry facing him, gun lifted.
Blake said, coolly, “Get a table up here. I’ll watch the front.”
Cherry looked undecided for a moment, but when bullets began hammering on the heavy timber of the saloon’s door, he turned and dragged a card table to the door. He braced it under the knob and went back for another table, dodging about as bullets howled through the window. Cherry struggled to lift the heavy table onto the other. Then he backed off, firing through the smashed window into the yard.
In the front of the saloon, Durant sent bullets into the main street. Cherry joined him and refilled his gun.
“About ten out here, Traversi among them,” Durant said.
Cherry pushed back his hair. Bullets were thudding all along the front wall. Some came through the windows to pound into the inside walls and explode bottles on the bar shelves. Blake Durant, now that he understood the extent of the fight that lay ahead of them, walked coolly around the room and put out the lights. He stood in the gloom and regarded Cherry’s dark figure thoughtfully.
If it was to be a fight to the death, he was glad he had a man like Cherry along. He said, “No matter what happens, Cherry, thanks for keeping your word to me. I know how hard it was.”
“It was damn near impossible, Durant, and maybe I’d have broken my word given another chance later.”
“I know,” Durant told him. “So don’t try to run out on me if we get a break from here. That money goes to the old man and the girl, no-place else.”
Cherry patted the money bulges in his shirt and wondered how long it would be before he ever got his hands on big money like this again. Probably never. He wiped a sleeve over his sweat-gleaming brow and went behind the counter for a bottle of whiskey. He uncorked it and had a long drink; then, after studying Durant for a moment, he handed the bottle across. A barrage of bullets made them both hit the floor. Durant took the bottle and muttered, “Thanks.”
“No charge,” said Cherry.
Nine – Bad Men, Bad Business
Joyce Adamson got up from the ground and swept her long hair back. Her father, despite his determination to be on hand in case of trouble, had been dozing, his body weary from a month of riding.
“Pa, I think they’re coming.”
Adamson knuckled at his eyes. “You sure, girl?”
“Two riders, Pa. Who else could it be?”
Adamson rose and worked the cramp out of his shoulders. Then he joined Joyce and looked in the direction of her gaze. Sure enough, two riders were coming at a fast clip. Adamson stepped out of the cover of the trees to greet them. But as they slowed at the sight of him, he recognized them as the brothers who’d beaten each other to pulp in the saloon on his first night in Outcast County.
Adamson’s hand went to his gun but before he could clear it of the holster, the Strawbridge brothers drew up and Bo’s gun covered him.
“What’s this?” Bo said in puzzlement as he took stock of Joyce.
“Sure beats me,” Bede said, rubbing the back of his neck, looking as perplexed.
Ben Adamson said gruffly, “We were expecting somebody else.”
Then Joyce stepped into the moonlight. Bede drew upright in the saddle and pointed at her.
“Damn me, Bo, it’s Cherry’s woman!”
Bo nodded, having already recognized her. Every time he’d seen Joyce Adamson in town he’d eyed her lustfully. She was about the best looking woman he’d ever laid eyes on, but he’d always known that he couldn’t do anything about it except dream. He removed his hat in token of his respect for her.
“And you’d be her father, eh?” Bo asked.
Adamson nodded. “You just come from town?”
“Sure did, and in one hell of hurry. All hell’s breaking out in there tonight. If we were a half mile closer, you’d hear it for sure.”
Joyce couldn’t hide her anxiety. “Did you see Mr. Durant and Mr. Cherry?”
“Yep, ma’am, seen ’em as clear as day. Was them who got us out of the jailhouse. Reckon the whole four of us would have got clean away if it hadn’t been for Alec Day showin’ up and gettin’ himself killed. Bede and me, we’re right grateful to them pair of fools for lettin’ us get to our horses.”
Joyce tur
ned to her father, tears in her eyes. Adamson, after another look at Bo and Bede, nodded grimly. “Thank you for your information. Thank you very much.” He turned back towards his horse and Bo and Bede exchanged a worried look.
Bo asked, “What you doin’, Mr. Adamson? You ain’t thinkin’ of goin’ in there after ’em, are you?”
“I have to,” Ben said. “They went to get money for my stolen cattle. I can’t just let ’em die for me; I’ve got to do what I can.”
“They’re holed up, Adamson,” Bo said. “They must be in the saloon, I reckon, judgin’ from the racket comin’ from that stinkhole. You won’t get one step into town without somebody recognizing you. Then he’ll shoot your fool guts out. Better get on that horse and head to hell away from here. We’ll ride part of the way if you like, keep you company.”
“No,” Adamson was adamant despite Joyce’s imploring look at him.
The girl’s tears made Bede frown. He studied Bo for a moment and said, “It wasn’t for them, we’d still be up to our ears in big trouble.”
Bo Strawbridge sat back in the saddle, cocking an ear at his brother. “How’s that, Bede?”
“We’d still be in that jailhouse, waitin’ for Traversi to tear both of us apart. His plan to quit town would’a made him sure we was cut down bad. So I figure that Durant and Cherry saved our hides. Now ... should we leave them to fight on their own or not? I mean, there are two friendly gents up against an outfit that we can’t stand the stink of.”
Ben Adamson looked curiously at both of them, a spark of hope showing in his eyes. “Do you mean you’ll go back?”
Bo pursed his lips and gingerly fingered his swollen lips. He dragged in a ragged breath and finally nodded. “Bede, you’re right. We been beltin’ each other for so long now that I kinda forgot what it was like to help other folks. But damn me—if you’ll excuse me ma’am,” he added, looking Joyce’s way, “Bede and me were kinda reared on fights. We don’t like backin’ outa one.”
“Then you’ll return?” she asked.
“Only on the condition that you and your pa stay out here, ma’am. I reckon that Durant saw how right that was or you wouldn’t be here waitin’ for him. So, we’ll just turn about and see if we can’t link up with them.”
Joyce beamed at him as she crossed to his horse. “I think you’re just wonderful.”
Bo blushed and then Joyce reached up and pulled at his shirt. When Bo’s face was close enough she kissed him firmly. He bucked back, saying:
“Whoa now, ma’am! That ain’t the kind of thing that puts a man in the right frame of mind to kick up hell. You just lay offa me, eh?”
Joyce smiled at him. Bede tipped his hat to Adamson and said, “See you soon. Them friendly jaspers back there have got your money, so I guess we’d best see that it gets to you. Fools they were, only takin’ five thousand, but then Durant thinks that way, don’t he?”
Bede swung his horse around and Bo hit his mount into a gallop. Together they thundered back towards town.
The Strawbridge brothers entered the gloomy depths of the saloon laneway and listened to the steady thunder of gunshots. Bede looked inquiringly at Bo.
“What the hell are we gonna do now?”
“We’ll try the front street,” Bo said and pulled out his gun. Moments later Bo saw a group of men on the boardwalk opposite the saloon. He drew back into the shadows, pulling Bede with him.
Then, brightening suddenly, Bo said, “The rooftop. We’ll go through Ma Willoughby’s place, climb to Carson’s roof and get across to the saloon. We’ll drop onto the verandah and see if we can get in without being heard. Only we got to watch that Cherry. He’s likely to be edgy.”
Bede offered no argument. They climbed up a store wall and clambered onto the roof. Removing their boots they made their way across the line of roofs. When they saw the saloon roof before them, Bo told Bede to keep him covered. He leaped out, caught at the verandah post and swung down onto the boards. But his boot caught on the railing top and he pitched forward on his face. When Bede swung in under the verandah a moment later they collided and went sprawling heavily.
Bo pushed Bede away from him. Bede was beginning to resent the rough treatment when two men charged along the verandah. Immediately the brothers forgot their argument and rushed forward. Bo’s roundhouse right connected with a man’s jaw and sent him crashing through the rail. A piercing scream broke the night’s silence and ended with a dull thud. Bede picked up the second man and hurled him at the wall. The man slumped down and did not move.
“A fair start,” Bo said. “Now all we got to do is meet up with them friendly jaspers before they gun us down. They were fools leavin’ this top section unwatched.”
Bede’s gaze swept over the verandah. From below came shouts. Together the brothers entered the corridor which separated the guest rooms. Nobody appeared to challenge them. At the top of the stairway, Bo crouched and looked anxiously down. When a bullet howled past his head he called out urgently:
“Hold it, damn you! It’s me and Bede!”
“Move and you’re dead, mister!” Cherry clipped out.
“Ain’t about to move, Cherry,” Bo said. “Not till you get it in your head that we’re here to help.”
There was a moment’s silence before Dane Cherry showed himself. He studied the big man intently for some time before he said, “Why, mister?”
“That’d be hard to explain,” Bo said. “Can we come down?”
“All right.”
Bo moved down the steps. Bede followed, holding his gun firmly, his eyes searching. Before they reached the bottom of the steps, shooting broke out again.
Bo and Bede Strawbridge broke into a run. Durant was crouched at the locked batwings, sending bullets into the street. Outside a man howled in pain. Then Cherry barked:
“If you two are after the money, forget about it.”
Bo, his face pressed to the floorboards, looked up angrily. “Now, see here, Cherry, I ain’t ever had much time for you, the way you got Bede and me to belt each other around. So don’t go makin’ out we’re thieves. We figured we’re obligated to you and anyhow we don’t care a spit for the scum followers of Traversi and Eggert. So we met up with the girl and her pa and we decided they’d had enough worry. Anyways, we owe Traversi somethin’ for crackin’ open Bede’s head and beltin’ me about some.”
Blake Durant studied them. “With your help we might make it. But we’ll have to take risks.”
Bo chuckled. “Risks, drifter, is what we mostly play with, Bede and me.”
Bullets whined through the air about them, smashing more bottles and hammering at the walls. “How many are there, Durant?” Bede asked.
“Ten out front, more out back.”
Bo said, “Out back, there’s maybe half a dozen, with the judge leading ’em. I seen Traversi out front. If we get them two, the others won’t fight much.”
Bo stood and looked about him carefully. When he sighted a row of unbroken bottles on a shelf behind the bar, his eyes gleamed and he hurried towards the bar. But another barrage of bullets made him drop to the floor in mid-room. Bede heard a groan come from him and he ran across to Bo who had blood spurting from a hole in his forearm. Bede jerked him up to a sitting position and made him remain still while he pulled a dirty bandanna from his neck and tied it firmly in place over the wound.
Bo growled, “Best get me some whiskey, brother. I sure need it now.”
Bede went to the back of the bar and pulled a bottle from the shelf. As he was turning to come back, heavier gunfire from a dozen guns ripped into the saloon. Every bottle on the shelf was shattered and glass rained down on him, soaking his clothes with whiskey before he ducked low and came back to his brother. Bo snatched the bottle from him and drank greedily and Bede had to wrench the bottle away before he could treat himself to a drink.
Meanwhile Cherry and Durant crouched near the batwings taking stock of the activity in the street. Suddenly Cherry let out a string of curses and adde
d, “This stinkin’ town!”
Durant shrugged. “Maybe it could be a good town ... for all of us.”
Cherry studied him grimly. “You figure to hang on here, maybe settle, get yourself a place and take up with Joyce.”
Their looks held for a long moment. Then Blake Durant said, “There’s more at stake here than us, Cherry. Can’t you see that?”
“No, damned if I can. Traversi’s an animal. He means to kill and go on killing till he gets control of this town again. And Joe Eggert is about the foulest, meanest jasper you ever came up against, Durant. I’m cutting out right now.”
Blake Durant looked fiercely at him and said, “I’m still holding you to your word. Break it and if we both live through this, I’ll find you.”
Cherry sat back on his haunches and checked his gun. He said, “I’m moving out now. Do you want to make a break together, or do you figure it more important for me to get away so Adamson can get his money?”
Bo and Bede Strawbridge came across the room slowly, Bo cursing freely and pouring whiskey onto his brother’s wound. They eyed Cherry sourly before Bo growled, “We’re trapped in this, Cherry, so the only thing to do is to burst out together. Maybe all of us won’t make it, but if we stay here and it gets daylight, we’re all through. They’ll rush us and cut us down.”
Cherry nodded. “I’ve already figured that, Bo. How do you want it? Straight out through that door and each man makes the best he can of it?”
Bo’s mouth tightened. He checked with Bede who gave a nod of agreement.
“I’ll get the bars down,” Bo said.
As Bo walked towards the swing doors, Blake Durant saw him for the real man he was, a fighter who could be stupidly reckless but a man with guts.
Durant said, “Drop the bars and then wait. We’ll all go through together. You two head for the jailhouse. Cherry and I will go the other way.”
Bo nodded. He knelt at the batwings and slowly withdrew the bars which held the door against them. Stepping back, he felt Bede’s heavy breath on the back of his neck. He looked at his brother, gave him a wink and muttered, “Be a breeze, Bede, eh?”
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