Man Called Ty
Page 19
The lives of Ty, Gabe, and Sheriff Dunn hung in the balance. The welfare of every man, woman, and child in the area of Long Bow was riding on the outcome of this fight. Ty, Gabe, and the sheriff were not gunfighters, but they had no choice but to meet these maniacs in a winner-take-all showdown. For some of the men in this fight, this would be their last sunrise.
Kruger, the man with a reputation for being a killer, looked strange. He was dressed completely in white. He wore a white shirt, white pants, and white hat. His hair and eyebrows were white. His icy cold blue eyes looked out from under hairless eyelids. He had a high, thin nose that came to a point above a slit for a mouth, with purple lips set in a permanent snarl. He looked like an angel of Satan.
Azalee saw this aberration, and a cold chill ran up her spine as she thought, This is the man Ty must fight.
Everybody had hoped that Marcum would run away to avoid being arrested, but deep down they knew that he wouldn’t allow the herd he had stolen to be taken without a fight. Today was the day that both Gabe and Ty knew was coming.
Sheriff Dunn’s wife and children were in the crowd watching. It was the sheriff’s job to arrest Marcum for cattle rustling. His wife knew that if he faced the three gunmen alone, they would kill him. Kate and Azalee stood beside her. They would all lose everything if Marcum won.
Ty and Gabe stood beside Sheriff Dunn. Together they watched the approaching riders. “We signed on as deputies, remember?” Gabe said.
A smile crossed the sheriff’s face. He felt better now, but he knew their lives were on the line.
“You can’t get to Marcum,” Ty said, “until I take care of the two gunmen with him. Pothman has the blood of my family on his hands. I've waited a long time for this opportunity, but I have to deal with the gunfighter first.” Without taking his eyes off Kruger, Ty checked his gun to make sure it was not stuck in the holster, and then rolled the chamber that held the cartridges. Everything was working smoothly. Marcum, Pothman, and the fast gun dismounted and walked forward. They walked to within thirty paces and stopped.
Marcum said to the fast gun, in a voice loud enough for everybody to hear, “This is why I hired you. Kill the man standing on the right, and the other two will be easy.”
Gabe noticed that Kruger wore his gun on his right side with the scabbard attached to his belt backward. “You can beat him Ty,” Gabe said, “but watch his left hand. The sheriff and I will see to it that it’s a fair fight. We’ll take care of Marcum and Pothman.”
Like a heavy stone, an eerie silence hung over the crowd. The six men stood facing each other. Then, without a word being spoken, the angel of death reached for his gun with his left hand.
The action was so fast—two shots were fired simultaneously. But nothing seemed to have happened! Both Kruger and Ty were still standing.
Ty felt a stinging sensation on his left forearm and realized that only a minor fraction of a second had made the difference. He felt no need to fire a second bullet, because he knew his first had found its mark.
Azalee gasped as she saw a trickle of blood dripping from Ty’s left hand. A bullet had grazed his forearm. She saw the barrel of Kruger’s gun slowly lowering and watched in fascination as he tried to lift his gun. A drop of blood formed on the end of his nose and his eyes glazed over. Then she saw a hole, right between the evil gunman’s eyes, and as if in slow motion, he fell forward on his face and a plume of dust rose around his body.
Thinking that Ty was preoccupied, Marcum drew. Gabe put a bullet in the center of his chest. With the look of anger still on his face, Marcum joined his gunfighter in the dust.
Pothman hesitated, unsure of what to do.
“Well, Pothman,” Ty said as he holstered his gun and faced him. “We are down to just you and me. You’ve searched for me, and now you’ve found me. I’ve waited a long time to avenge the deaths of my mother and sister, and I will also avenge the deaths of my good friends, Captain and Mo.”
Pothman drew, and Ty put a bullet through his head. As the man who had been consumed by hate fell, a heavy load lifted from Ty’s shoulders—a feeling of relief and a sense of settling the score replaced it. Ty would never again have to worry about Pothman.
Holstering his gun a second time, he turned to the people and said, “Folks, peace has returned to Long Bow. It’s time to celebrate. Let’s have a drink.”
“But you don’t drink,” Azalee said as she ran to him.
“This time, I do,” Ty replied.
With a sigh of relief and a smile on her face, Kate took Gabe’s arm. “This time, we’ll join you.”
For the first time in anyone’s memory, the women of Long Bow went into the saloon with their men for a drink.
Ty faced everyone and said, “Now is a good time to announce that Azalee and I will be married when the red buds bloom. You are all invited!”
They celebrated all afternoon and into the night.
The following day, they formed a jury and tried the men who were holding the stolen cattle. The jury decided that they did not steal the cattle for their own advantage; they stole them for Marcum. They were set free, and many of them went to work for the ranchers from whom they had stolen the cattle.
To those who had ambushed him and Azalee, Ty said, “We’ll set you free, but I suggest you find another town.”
The ranchers were prosperous, the merchants were happy, and the saloonkeeper made an observation: “Frontier justice is a strange thing.”