“I don’t know,” Canby said. “It’s still too quiet out there.”
“Well, we’re all done in here,” Frank said. “When are we gonna leave?”
“Might be a man with a gun out there, Frank,” Canby said. “If you want to go out, go on ahead.”
Frank looked at the door nervously, then said, “Naw, I guess I’ll wait.”
“Good,” Canby said, “then we’ll just wait together.”
* * *
Blacker saw some shadows just inside the door of the barn. It looked like two men, maybe getting ready to come out. He drew his gun, cradled it in both hands for a moment.
“Come on out, Gunsmith,” he said to himself in low tones. “Come on out and get what’s waiting for you.”
“Maybe,” Clint said from behind him, “you should step out of there and get what’s coming to you, Mr. Blacker.”
Blacker froze.
FORTY-TWO
“Adams?”
“The very one.”
“You alone?”
“It’s just you and me, Blacker,” Clint said. “But don’t think about spinning around and using that gun. I’d just as soon kill you as look at you. That’s how I treat men who are waiting to bushwhack me.”
“Now look,” Blacker said, “let’s talk about this. You have no idea how much money we’re gonna get tomorrow.”
“I think I have some idea.”
“Well, there’s always room to cut another man in,” Blacker said. “Especially a man with your, uh, special talents.”
“I don’t think your boss Fontaine would agree with you,” Clint said.
“I’m in charge of this operation,” Blacker said.
“Well, that’s too bad.”
“Whataya mean?”
“What are your men going to do tomorrow when you don’t show up?”
Blacker laughed low.
“They all know their jobs,” Blacker said. “Whatever happens here, they’ll pull that job tomorrow.”
“You should have waited ’til tomorrow so you could be there with them.”
“Well, Adams, to tell you the truth, I didn’t wanna see you there, so I thought I’d get rid of you tonight.”
“Seeing as how the other three men you sent—not to mention Jesse—didn’t fare too well.”
“You’re right,” Blacker said. “That’s when I realized I’d have to do it myself. So whataya say you and me get outta these trees and face off, huh? Man to man?”
“Man to man?” Clint repeated.
“That’s right.”
“Who are you going to get to represent you?”
* * *
The one who grew impatient was Ben Canby.
“Okay,” he said to Frank, “I’m headin’ for the house. You with me?”
“Uh, I think I’ll wait awhile longer.”
“I’m thinkin’ if anythin’ was gonna happen, it woulda happened by now,” Canby said.
“Boss . . .”
Canby stepped out and yelled, “Clint? You out there?”
* * *
Beyond Blacker, Clint could see the front of the barn. He saw Canby when he stepped out.
“Damn it!” Clint said.
Blacker was facing Canby with his gun already out. He had no chance.
“Ben! Down!” Clint yelled.
Blacker turned. He was fast, like a snake, and he almost got a shot off while Clint was yelling to Canby. But Clint was too fast. He fired once, and the bullet struck Blacker and spun him around so fast his gun went flying from his hand.
“Damn it!” Clint said again.
* * *
“Whataya mad at me for?” Canby asked later.
They were both standing, looking down at Blacker’s body. Frank was standing farther behind them.
“You stepped out and I had to kill him,” Clint said. “I wanted him alive.”
“What for?”
“So he could tell me where Fontaine is.”
“Well, if Fontaine’s hiding, and Blacker’s dead, doesn’t that mean the robbery won’t go off?”
“No,” Clint said. “The plan is in play. According to Blacker, everybody knows their job. The robbery is going to happen. I just have to hope I have enough men to stop it.”
“What about the Jockey Club?” Canby asked. “Maybe we can convince them together to increase the security.”
“It’s too late,” Clint said. “The gates are going to open tomorrow and I have to be there.”
“And so do I.”
“All right,” Clint said. “We’d better turn in, then.”
“What about him?”
“What about him?” Clint echoed.
“What are we gonna do with him?”
“Leave him there for now,” Clint said. “Cover him up. In the morning you can have somebody take him to town.”
“And do what?”
“Dump him in the sheriff’s lap,” Clint said. “Maybe that’ll shake him up some.”
Canby told Frank to get a blanket out of the barn and put it over the body, then started back to the house with Clint.
“Tomorrow’s gonna be one helluva day,” he said.
He got no argument.
FORTY-THREE
In the morning they loaded Whirlwind onto a carrier and set out for Louisville, Churchill Downs, and the Kentucky Derby.
Clint thought about riding into the track with Canby and the horse, but he had told Sun Horse and the others he’d meet them out front.
As the gate opened to admit Canby and the horse, Clint said, “I’ll see you later.”
“I hope so,” Canby said. “And don’t forget to get your bet in before you get killed.”
“I’ll make a note of it.”
He rode around to the front of the track, where Sun Horse and the others were waiting. He didn’t have time to put Eclipse in a livery, so he just dismounted and left him there. The horse wouldn’t move, and he wouldn’t let anybody move him.
“You ready?” Clint asked them.
“We are ready,” Sun Horse said.
“Hey!”
Clint turned to see who had shouted. He saw a security guard coming his way.
“What are all these Indians doin’ here?” the man demanded.
“Talk to your boss,” Clint said.
“Huh?” the man asked dimly. He was about as smart as a donkey, Clint could see.
“Captain Butler?” Clint said. “He’s your boss, right?”
“Right.”
“Well, tell him you talked to Clint Adams,” Clint said. “He’ll know what it’s about.”
“Okay.”
“Oh, one more thing,” Clint said as the man started away.
“Yeah?”
“Tell him Blacker’s dead, and Fontaine’s missing.”
“Huh?”
“Just tell him.”
“I will,” the man said. “I’ll find out what’s goin’ on.”
As the guard walked away, Clint said to the Cherokees, “Take your positions, and be ready.”
Clint doubted the Cherokees would be able to pick out the robbers, but he knew that when trouble started, they would come running.
“Come on, Sun Horse.”
They went to the front gate and paid their admission to get in. The crowd had already begun to file in. There would be seven races before the Derby, and people would continue to come in until then.
“Mr. Gunsmith?” Sun Horse said.
“Yeah?”
“Okay if I make some bets?”
“Bets? Well, yeah, I don’t see why not.”
Sun Horse nodded.
“But you don’t know anything about these horses, do you?”
“What is to know?” S
un Horse asked. “I only need to look at them.”
“You’re going to pick a winner just by looking at the horses?”
“Yes.”
“This I’ve got to see.”
* * *
By the time the fifth race came around, Sun Horse had picked four winners.
“This is amazing,” Clint said as Sun Horse stuffed a wad of money into his pocket. “How do you do that?”
“You can tell if a horse can run by looking at him,” Sun Horse said.
“Yes, but what if they all look like they can run?” Clint asked.
“One looks like the winner.”
“Only one?”
“Yes.”
“All right,” Clint said. “I’m going to bet with you, this race. Let’s go and look at the horses.”
* * *
Clint cashed in on the fifth and sixth races with Sun Horse, but the prices were low. The favorite won each race.
“How about a long shot?” Clint asked him.
“I can’t control the price,” Sun Horse said, “I can only pick the winner.”
“Will you be able to do that in the Derby?”
“Yes.”
“You’re that sure?”
“Yes.”
“All right,” Clint said, “what about this next race . . .”
FORTY-FOUR
The winner of the seventh race paid fifteen dollars. It was a good price, and Clint did well. He pocketed the money and said to Sun Horse, “Okay, the Derby’s next. Let’s go over to the betting windows.”
“I have not looked at the horses yet.”
“I’m not worried about the winner,” Clint said. “I want to be around the windows when the robbery happens.”
With no cooperation from Captain Butler in Security, Clint had no idea where all the money went. He felt his only chance to thwart the robbery was to be somewhere the money was—like the betting windows.
He and Sun Horse had just arrived at the windows when Clint saw Captain Butler, a few of his uniformed men, and Sheriff Hackett coming their way.
“Get ready,” Clint said.
“I am ready.”
“Don’t fire unless I do.”
Sun Horse nodded.
“All right, Adams,” Butler said. “Just stand there. Sheriff, arrest him.”
“For what?” Clint asked.
“Trespassin’,” Butler said. “Him and all his Indians.”
“John Sun Horse and I paid our way in,” Clint said. “And the other Cherokee are on the outside. Nobody has broken the law.”
Butler glared at Hackett.
“He’s right,” Hackett said.
“I don’t care if he’s right,” Butler said. “I want them out of here.”
“Adams—” Hackett said.
“Don’t try it, Hackett,” Clint said. “Look, I know you and Captain Butler here are in on the robbery.”
“What robbery?” one of the men asked. He was young, and looked smarter than the others.
“Shut up!” Butler said.
“Fontaine is among the missing,” Clint said, “and Blacker’s dead.”
“Dead?” Hackett asked. “You killed him?”
“I did. His body should be sitting in front of your office. I killed him when he came out to the Canby place to kill me.”
“You heard him,” Butler said, “he killed a man. Arrest him.”
Clint looked around as a crowd gathered to watch them. They were taking the attention away from the Kentucky Derby horses, who were coming out onto the track. He also looked to see if he could pick out anybody suspicious, anyone who might be paying special attention to the windows. And then suddenly, a door opened and two security guards came out wheeling what looked like a table on wheels. And on top of that table were bags of money.
“Where are they going?” Clint demanded, pointing.
“They’re takin’ the money to the vault,” Butler said. “What’s it to you?”
“The vault?” Sun Horse said. “That is where the robbery will happen?”
“What robbery?” the same young guard asked. “Is there gonna be a robbery?”
“No!” Butler said.
“Yes,” Clint said. “But it won’t happen until after the Derby. When the betting is all closed and the money has all been taken in.”
Butler had four guards with him, but only the young one seemed concerned. Was it possible that the robbers were guards, and were already inside the track? That was Fontaine’s plan? If so, then the Cherokee in the outside weren’t going to be much help if shooting erupted anytime soon.
Clint was hoping he had time to send Sun Horse out to get them.
“Son,” Clint said to the young guard, “I believe the captain, these other men, and also the sheriff are all in on a plan to rob this track after or during the Derby.”
“What?” the young man said.
“He’s crazy!” Butler said.
Hackett was licking his lips nervously. The other guards were looking toward their boss for a signal.
“Look at your colleagues,” Clint said. “They’ve got their hands on their guns and they’re ready to go.”
The young guard looked around.
“This isn’t—” Hackett started, but stopped short.
“Isn’t what, Sheriff?” Clint asked, sensing there was no time left. This was going to be up to him and Sun Horse. “Isn’t the way it was supposed to happen?”
Hackett looked at Butler. He said, “Don’t—” but it was too late.
Butler yelled, “Take ’em,” and went for his gun. The guard followed.
Sun Horse brought his rifle around and fired. Clint drew and fired twice. The young guard pulled out his billy club and brought it down on the arm of one of the other guards, knocking his gun to the floor.
Hackett was down, bleeding from a wound in his arm. Butler was dead, as were two of the guards. The last guard was down on one knee, holding a broken arm. The young guard had his gun out and was pointing it at the sheriff.
“I hope I did the right thing,” he said to Clint.
“Don’t worry,” Clint said to him, “you did.”
The people around them had hit the ground when the shooting started, but they were quickly getting up and rushing to the windows to get their bets in.
* * *
“They’re off!”
Whirlwind went right to the front.
“He will win,” Sun Horse said.
“Are you sure?”
Sun Horse nodded.
The other Cherokee were still outside. The guards had been taken away by other guards who had not been in on the plan. The young guard had taken control, and had taken the sheriff into custody. The race went off without a hitch. Wherever Fontaine was, his plan had failed, but he was free to come up with more plans.
For now.
Whirlwind went around the track, dogged every step of the way by Sunday Song. As they came into the stretch, the little colt started to pull away from the larger horse. From behind, Easy Going suddenly started making a move. He was closing the ground between himself and Whirlwind, but by the time they got to the wire, Whirlwind was still a full length in front.
The winner!
“If you had told me that earlier,” Clint said to Sun Horse, “I would have bet more.”
Watch for
BLOOD TRAIL
381st novel in the exciting GUNSMITH series from Jove
Coming in September!
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