Then he found out why. He was lying on his face. By raising his head slightly he could see his feet. They were drawn up behind him, and he knew the rope that wound around his ankles was tied to his hands as well. Hog-tied! The weight of his legs pulling down put a strain on the rope around his wrists, cutting off circulation.
His mouth felt dry and swollen and his jaw ached. He thought it was due to the blow on the head until he tried to swallow. Ackerman had done a good job—he’d been gagged as well. His boots were gone. They’d been taken off to tie his feet, he guessed.
There was a stiffness over his whole body and he wondered how long he’d lain like that. Ever since Ackerman hit him, probably. He tried to roll, to find a comfortable position, but he couldn’t get leverage enough to roll past his elbows. Now he knew how a turtle felt on its back.
The light through the window was brighter now—the sun was rising. From outside came the first activity he’d heard. The rattle of a passing wagon. Somewhere beneath him he heard a door slam. Voices floated in the background, muffled and indistinct. There was the sound of water being sloshed from a pitcher and the grunts and blowing of face-washing. The first sounds of a new day—Mary Thornhill’s wedding day. He jerked at his bonds, twisting and writhing and cursing into his gag. The violent motions caused his head to strike the floor. The pain lashed his anger and he strained and contorted, arching his back and falling forward on his chest in a desperate effort to loosen the ties. His head struck again and his vision clouded as the pain knifed his skull. There was the warm trickle of blood down the side of his face. He held himself tense, quivering,—then fell op his face sobbing in silent despair.
When the first reaction had passed he got hold of himself. Condo—you damn fool! Keep your head—think, man, think!
Think? About what?
About what Ackerman had told him he’d hear in the next room? Think about Ackerman’s coarse laughter and Mary…? God no, you fool! Think about how the hell you can do something!
Half an hour passed. Then another. The sun was rising above the window ledge, pouring its promise of infernal heat through the closed window. It was stuffy in the room. Billy found it harder than ever to breathe now. Sweat began to stand out on his forehead. It soaked through his shirt, trickled across his ribs, ran into his eyes.
There was the sound of footsteps on the back stairs. Then voices. He strained to listen. The footsteps stopped outside. A key rattled in the lock. The door swung open and a man stepped into the room. Billy’s heart gave a wild leap. The man was Thad Harper.
In the next instant all his hopes exploded and he let his head fall back to the floor with a groan. Behind Old Thad, gun in hand, came Ace Ackerman and behind him was a thin-lipped stranger.
“Go get Jase!” Ackerman snarled. The stranger nodded and disappeared. Ackerman closed the door and gave the old man a prod with the gun. “Untie him!”
Billy felt the sharp pain shooting through his hands and feet as the blood began to circulate again. He rolled over and sat up, fumbling with his gag. His fingers were still too numb and Old Thad untied it for him. Billy looked up at the old man and a lump rose in his throat.
“Thad—goddammit! Why’d you have to get yourself into this?”
A sad smile played at the corners of the old man’s mouth. “I thought maybe I could stop you before you got yourself into some kind of trouble. Joe Metcalf didn’t tell me about it till after we’d bedded down last night. I left right away—but I lost my way in the dark and didn’t find it until daylight. Then I made the mistake of runnin’ into this ugly sonofabitch here…”
“Why you little…”
The door flew open and Jase Thornhill raged in. “Ace, I told you not to bother me unless…” His eyes lighted on Thad and he stopped. Then he grinned and closed the door behind him. “Well I’ll be damned!” he swore softly. “Look who we got here!”
“Found him snoopin’ around out front and figured I’d better get him off the street just in case…”
Jase’s face darkened when he caught sight of Billy sitting there rubbing his wrists.
“Who told you to untie Condo?”
Ackerman looked astonished. “Hell, Jase—use your head! Somebody’s bound to come along now lookin’ for the old man. You don’t aim to wait until…”
“I told you I wanted Condo kept alive until after the wedding!”
Ackerman’s face fell. Then his eyes narrowed and he said evenly, “Jase, sometimes I think you’re crazier’n hell!”
Thornhill’s face grew red and he took a step forward. Then his eyes fell to the gun in the big man’s hand and he relaxed. “All right—two’s too many to handle. But I still want Condo kept here.”
“What’ll you do about the old man?”
“This,” Jase said, slipping out his gun and bringing it down swiftly.
Billy gave a low cry and leaped forward, but Ackerman’s gun jabbed sharply into his belly, forcing him back. He heard the gun hit Old Thad with a sound like a melon being dropped on a rock. There was a nauseated feeling in the pit of his stomach as he watched the old man crumple to the floor.
“Jase’ he whispered hoarsely, “when I kill you I’ll remind you of this.”
Jase looked at him, a sneer on his lips. Casually, he slid the gun away. Without taking his eyes off Billy he stepped to the door and opened it. “Bone! Come in here!”
The thin-lipped man came into the room and Jase closed the door.
“Bone, pour some whisky on this old fool to make it look like he’s drunk. Get one of the others to help carry him out to the wagon, then drive him down along the river someplace. A bullet through his head and some rocks tied to his feet ought to do the trick. Now get movin’!”
Billy watched Bone drag Old Thad through the door. With every ounce of self-control he could summon he forced himself to stand there, fighting back the desire to tackle their guns with his bare hands. His mind flashed back over the agonizing hour he had lain face down on the floor, unable to move, and it gave him a small glimmer of hope. Then he would have given anything to have his hands free. Well, he had them free now. If he waited and watched his chance…
The door closed and he heard Old Thad’s bootheels bumping from step to step as he was dragged down the back stairs. There was a grim smile on his face as Jase Thornhill turned to look at him.
“You’ll get your turn tomorrow morning,” Jase told him. He turned to Ackerman. “Tie him up again. This time, move him over by that wall—over where he’ll be able to hear real good!” Jase began to laugh, an obscene sort of laugh that bordered on hysteria. Billy thought that Ackerman had hit it pretty close—Jase was crazier than hell.
When Billy spoke, his voice was low—almost a whisper. And there was still that same smile on his face—a cool, purposeful smile. Each word fell crisply on the ear with deadly promise.
“Jase, you had your chance to square things between us and you turned it down. I bent over backwards with you, hoping you’d forget your grudge and call it quits. I’m through bending, Jase. Any man who’d hate another enough to sell his own sister deserves killing. Jase—I’m going to kill you before sundown tonight, so help me, God!”
He turned to Ackerman, still smiling that quiet, deadly smile: “Ackerman, you’re no better. But I don’t give a damn about you enough to care. Only get this—you get in my way and I’ll kill you, too!”
Jase fingered the butt of his gun with quivering fingers. “Tie him up!” he barked at Ackerman.
Ackerman picked up the rope and started for Billy, but hesitated as Billy went on, “And when I kill you, Jase, I’m going to make it hurt. I won’t be merciful about it a goddam bit.”
Jason Thornhill’s face began to twitch. The voice went on in the same monotone. The same thin smile was on Billy’s face.
“First, I’ll put a bullet through your belly. You know what that means, Jase.
It hurts—hurts like hell. That’ll be for Old Thad. Then I’ll put another right alongside the first—just to make it hurt a little worse. That’ll be for what you’ve done to Mary, and for the low-down scheme you planned about marrying her. Then I’ll give you another one in the guts just because you deserve it for the way you hate me. That’ll leave three shots, Jase. I’ll give ’em to you slow. How long can a man live with six slugs in his belly, Jase? Long enough to know he’s dying. Maybe you’ll…”
“Tie him up, goddamit, before I…”
Jase cut off abruptly and jerked open the door and stepped through, slamming it behind him. The sound of his footsteps died quickly away down the hall.
Ackerman motioned to the floor. “Lay down there, Condo,” he sneered, “and we’ll see how tough you act when you’re hog-tied again.”
Billy stood with his legs wide apart, grinning mirthlessly. “What if I don’t want to lay down?”
Ackerman looked at him, then smiled crookedly. “In that case…” he said, and Billy heard the hammer click back.
“Jase’ll be awful mad if you cheat him out of his fun,” Billy fenced. “Awful mad.”
Ackerman hesitated, then shifted his grip on the gun, holding it by the barrel and raising it over his head. “All right, Condo—if that’s the way you want it…!”
Billy moved in fast under the gun, clamped one hand around the descending wrist. He brought his right knee up hard into the big man’s groin, heard the breath whistle painfully through Ackerman’s teeth as he went down. He grabbed the gun before it fell, then gathered up the rope and set to work.
Ackerman’s boots were ’way too big, Billy noticed as he pulled them on. But, the hell with it! He examined the gun. It was a percussion navy Colt .36 and couldn’t hold a candle to his own converted .44. But the hell with that, too—it would shoot. There was a pouch with powder and caps and balls on the belt he stripped from Ackerman. He slipped it on, bolstered the gun. There was a groan from the hog-tied Ackerman. Billy knelt beside him.
“Where’s Mary Thornhill?”
Ackerman looked at him, lifting his face from the floor. “Go to hell!”
Billy grabbed the heavy hair on the big man’s nape, twisted the ugly head up and back. “I asked you where she was!”
“You go to…!”
Billy shoved with all his might. There was a sickening sound of flesh and bone on wood as Ackerman’s nose and upper lip split open.
“Where is she?”
Ackerman shook his head groggily, spitting away the blood that was flowing into his mouth. “Goddam you, Condo…!”
There was no satisfaction in punishing a helpless man. Billy gritted his teeth. If he didn’t find Mary… He pulled the head back again.
“Ackerman, I’m asking you—!”
“Gad damn you, Condo, I won’t…!”
He tightened his grip in the heavy hair, threw the head down with all his strength. There was a loud cry of pain and a splatter of blood. Billy cursed himself inwardly for what he was having to do.
“She’s…in room…eleven…down the hall…front…”
Billy let the man’s head down gently this time, turning the face on its side. “I’ll be back, Ackerman. I’ll be back for you and Jase!” He picked up his hat and stepped to the door.
A quick glance down the back stairs told him no one was on guard. Probably the man called Bone had been there before Jase sent him away. He ran down the hall, watching the numbers on the doors. Eight…nine…ten… Eleven!
He tried the knob. It was locked. What if Jase might be in there and…? He’d have to chance it. He gave the knob a vigorous rattle.
“Who—who’s there?” It was Mary’s voice—frightened, tearful.
“It’s me—Billy Condo!”
A key clicked. The door opened.
She gave a little gasp when she saw him, but then he guessed he wasn’t exactly pretty to look at, what with the blood matted in his hair and all. “Billy! Wh-what…?”
She came into his arms, trembling, terrified, bewildered. He held her close for a precious second, then held her away to look down at her.
“Mary—listen close to what I’ve got to say. They’ve got Thad—they’re going to kill him. I’ve got to stop it, but I’ll be back. Lock your door and keep it locked. Stay here until I come back—no matter what happens!”
“Billy,” she whispered tearfully, “be—be careful!”
He tore himself away and started down the hall toward the front. Behind him he heard, the door close and the echo of the key in the lock. At the head of the stairs he stopped and drew back quickly. The landing opened out on a gallery overlooking the saloon below. In the sudden rush of voices that came up to him there was one he recognized instantly—Jase Thornhill’s, loud and boasting. He ran his eyes along the men at the bar, spotted Jase standing there with several Lazy S hands. Billy’s hand flashed to the gun at his side, then dropped away. It would have to wait.
He turned and ran back along the hall and down the back stairs. It came to him that Jase might have replaced the guard. He went out the door cautiously, gun in hand. There was no one around. He put the gun away, ran around the side of the building and stopped short of the front. A quick glance around the corner showed no one was on the boardwalk. There were several mounts at the hitchrail bearing Thornhill’s brand. He measured the closest with his eye, took a breath and made a run for it.
Two men were coming through the swinging doors and onto the boardwalk. He tried to dodge, but couldn’t. They collided head-on.
“What the devil…!” one of them snapped irritably. The voice was familiar. Billy shot the man a glance.
“Condo!” the man broke into a smile. Billy saw it was Ed Sheff. “Condo, I’d like you to meet O. W. Wheeler, who brought one of the first herds of cattle from…”
“Later, Sheff,” Billy interrupted. “Did you see two men carry Thad Harper to a wagon a minute ago?”
Sheff looked surprised. “Why—yes! Matter of fact, I did.” He started to laugh, “I’d say the old man had taken on a little celebration…”
Billy grabbed his arm. “Which way’d they go?” he snapped.
“W-why, they headed west, down towards Mud Creek and the river. Why, is anything wrong? You seem all upset.”
Out of the corner of his eyes Billy saw the face of a. Lazy S rider peering over the batwing doors. “I’ll explain later,” he whispered, turning for the hitchrail. In the split second it took him to untie the reins Billy knew the rider was still trying to place him. It was a man he’d seen once before, but he knew the rider wouldn’t expect to find him down here. The man’s indecision gave him the time he needed.
He wheeled the roan away, loosening the rope from the pommel as he turned. The loop was swinging over his head when the man stepped through the batwings.
“Thornhill! It’s Condo—he got loose!” There was a pounding of boots toward the door.
As Billy let the loop fly he blessed Ed Sheff and the man named Wheeler for blocking the door. He spurred the roan, felt the jar as the rope stretched taut, heard the cracking of wood as the hitchposts gave way. A shot roared out and he felt the slug whistle past his ear. There was a chorus of whinnies from the startled mounts and they reared and backed, each straining in a different direction. Reins parted under the strain and the horses broke away down the street, trampling each other’s heels in their fright. Billy kept the roan at a dead run. Looking back he saw the battered hitch-rail bounding along behind him at rope’s end. Men were piling through the door now, guns in hand. He saw Sheff and Wheeler scurrying out of the line of fire. Billy had the navy Colt out trying to draw a bead. The man who’d seen him first raised his pistol for a second shot. Billy squeezed the trigger and the burst of smoke hid his target for an instant. When it cleared he saw the man lying on the boardwalk. The others were running down the street after the
ir mounts as he rode out of gunshot. He smiled grimly. It would be a little while before they could follow.
The roan was running skittishly, spooking sideways now and then and trying to look back at the hitchpole bounding and rattling along behind. Billy took in a little slack, untied the rope from the horn and let it fall. Then he braced himself as they slipped and splashed across Mud Creek and pounded south toward the river.
The wagon was so well hidden in the clump of timber that he almost rode past it. He wheeled the roan in a cloud of dust and headed for the grove of cottonwoods. Two men were dragging Old Thad from the wagon as he thundered into the hidden clearing. He saw the one called Bone look up, then drop Thad’s feet and reach for his gun.
Billy pulled the roan to such a sudden stop that the animal reared on its hind legs throwing him off aim. Bone’s shot struck the animal in the chest and it fell over backwards. Billy kicked his feet free of the stirrups and shoved himself clear, hitting the dirt and rolling to one side. As he scrambled to his feet something thudded into his heel, knocking his right leg from under him. He held his fire, trying to see where Thad was. Two puffs of smoke blossomed simultaneously—one from behind the wagon, another from behind a tree. Both slugs threw sand in his eyes.
A voice yelled out. “Drop your gun or I’ll shoot the old man!”
He saw Thad lying there where they’d dropped him. For a second he hesitated. A shot roared out and he saw dust spurt from beside Thad’s head.
The 7th Western Novel Page 60