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Alias: The Hangman From Hell

Page 13

by Franklin D. Lincoln

Dan Greer raked his roweled spurs against the bay’s sides, urging the animal to greater speed. The horse’s breathing was labored with the prolonged exertion in the stifling heat of the early afternoon sun. The animal’s chest and flanks were heavily flecked with foamy lather. He was beginning to falter and there was a bit of beginning stagger in his stride.

  Many times Dan Greer had put his mounts to punishing speed, but usually that was because there was a posse on his tail. But today, there was no one behind him. He had successfully ridden into Plainview, scouted out the town and bank and had left town totally unnoticed. The town of Plainview was now two miles behind them. There was no apparent reason for Greer to push the animal so hard, other than pure meanness and he was in a hurry to get back to camp and stretch out in the cool shade of a tree for the rest of the day.

  As he rounded the next bend, he approached a copse of trees. He pulled the bay up short, slowing him to a walk and then angled him off the road and guided him between the trees for about twenty yards before turning him into a narrow freshly made trail through the brush. Once through the brush, Greer found himself on a grassy embankment that fell away to more brush at the bottom. He turned his mount to descend the steep pitch and sent him downward. The animal practically slid down the bank, almost sitting back on his haunches, digging up dirt and rock that rolled away under his feet.

  There was another fresh trail through the brush at the bottom. Greer turned into it and soon emerged in a thicker grove of trees.

  Ben Tolbert and Art Slocum had been sitting on the ground, their backs leaning against the trunks of two cotton wood trees. They heard the approaching rider first before he appeared from out of the brush. They had been waiting for Greer to return from town and had no reason to expect the rider to be anyone else but him. But, at the sound, they both tensed and waited expectantly until they saw for sure it was their partner.

  “How’d it go?” Tolbert asked, jumping to his feet and hurrying to meet Greer before he had time to dismount. He was brushing off the seat of his pants as he approached. There was still a little soreness in his shoulder from the wound he had received two nights ago, but it was healing up nicely.

  “It’s gonna be apiece of cake,” Greer chuckled as he stepped down, carelessly dropping the reins to leave the horse ground hitched. The bay blew and shook his head. Foam dripped from his mouth and he gnawed at the bit.

  “After the parade, the streets cleared out. Everyone headed off to the hanging and the rest of the town was like a ghost town. Not a soul around the bank and not a lawman in sight. Hell, we could have knocked the bank off today and had it over with, instead of waiting ‘til tomorrow.”

  “We probably could’ve,” Tolbert agreed, sounding just a little disappointed that he had put the job off for the next day. “It was still good to see how things were today. That way we know just what to expect. Tomorrow is the big show. The attraction is bigger and people will be more anxious than today. Besides with no parade, the town will probably clear out sooner, giving us more time to get in and get out. For sure all the lawmen in town will be at the hanging. They won’t be expecting us to knock off the bank. Hell, if they were expecting us at all, they’d be expecting us to try to spring the boys. And the only place and time we could do that would be when they had them near the gallows and had taken the leg irons off.”

  “Even at that, it would be pretty risky business, boss.”

  “That’s why we’re not doing it. We wouldn’t have a snowball’s chance in Hell of pulling such a thing off.”

  “So we’re just gonna let the law hang ‘em?” Art Slocum said as he approached his two compadres.

  “We got no other choice, Art. It’s too bad, but that’s just the way it’s got to be.”

  “Doesn’t seem right,” Slocum said sadly. “If it had been Dan and me that got caught, I suppose you’d let us swing too.” He tossed a glance at Greer, hoping to build some alliance.

  “That’s right,” Tolbert said flatly. Then grinned. “Just be glad it wasn’t you. Instead of swinging tomorrow, you’re going to become rich men. Be happy old man.”

  “I dunno,” Slocum murmered. “It just don’t seem right.”

 

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