Bullets in the Sun

by Robert J. Horton

“A run-around for Tom Lester,” Cole answered readily enough. “He was snoopin’ around up there to . . .” He paused, listening.

  Bond listened and could hear nothing. “Yes?” he prompted.

  “Well, you can guess the rest,” said Cole with a shrug, “but if you want to talk business with me, set a time an’ place.”

  “Right here, one week from tonight,” said Bond evenly. “And see to it that none of that bunch of cut-throats takes a liking to my horse. Understand?”

  “I’ll try to make it,” said Cole, ignoring the reference to the horse. “An’ I’m not worrying about you keepin’ this to yourself, but it might be wiser. So long.”

  He left Bond more perplexed than he ever had been in his life. Bond had made the appointment on the spur of the moment, without reason and without any intention of keeping it. He had reminded Cole of the horse to avoid trouble, for if any attempt were made to steal it, he would have to act. Now he felt that the horse would not be molested. But he took no chances. He waited for an opportunity to speak to the liveryman, and, when he finally came, he told him straight.

  “There’s never been a hoss stolen in my barn yet, so keep your shirt on,” the liveryman said gruffly.

  Equipped with a legitimate excuse, Bond remained in the barn office. One by one the men rode out. Bond’s thoughts were racing. Had Porky been up at the Farlin cabin hoping to steal money? Bond knew what the man’s orders had been. He was to follow Farlin. Why was Farlin going away, and where was he going? And why was Lawson taking his outfit out of town on such short notice? Why was Big Tom Lester so interested in Farlin’s movements? Bond could merely conjecture the answers to his questions, but one thing he knew—the queer business affected Gladys Farlin, and he wanted to help her. Therefore, he determined to take a hand in it. And no sooner had he made up his mind than he decided on a bold move.

  He called the liveryman and ordered his horse saddled. Cole still was in the barn, and, when Bond left the office, Cole entered it. But Bond had no time for more talk with Lawson’s henchman. He rode out of the barn and down the street, disappearing in the shadows of the trees as if he was riding eastward. He did not cross the creek, but tied his horse in the trees, and then made his way up the edge of the timber toward the Farlin cabin, where several lighted windows showed.

  He took a position where he could see the front of the house and could hear if there should be any talking when the door was open. It was not his intention to wait long before ascertaining in some way if Lester still was in the cabin. He did not have to wait as long as he had expected. The door suddenly was opened and Lester’s big form loomed against the beam of lamplight. Farlin’s face showed over his shoulder.

  “So long,” said Lester, striding rapidly away.

  “Good night,” Farlin called after him, and closed the door.

  Then Bond saw Gladys and her father facing each other in the square of light in a window. He forgot his decision to confront Lester as he saw the girl shaking her head and Dan Farlin putting his hands on her shoulders, nodding as he talked. Then the girl’s back was to him and the gambler had disappeared. Bond looked after Lester, but the big man had vanished in the shadows down the slope. When he glanced back at the window, the square of light was vacant.

  Bond was undecided, but now for the second time in the few minutes since he had arrived there he did not have long to ponder. The door opened and Farlin appeared. He had a coat on his arm. Then Bond saw the white dress of the girl and her arms about her father’s neck.

  “I wish you wouldn’t go, Daddy,” she said in a voice that convinced Bond she was close to tears.

  “We’ve gone all over that,” said Farlin kindly. “Now, do you promise?”

  “I promise to stop you from taking chances, Daddy,” was the answer.

  Farlin kissed her, patted her shoulder, and then started down the trail, leaving her in the doorway.

  Bond waited until the gambler was gone and the door had closed. He stood still, staring at the cabin, his brain whirling with the memory of Gladys’ beauty as she had lingered in the doorway with the moonlight on her face. Then he swore mildly and softly, and finally stole around to the rear of the cabin and tapped on a window where a light glowed behind a curtain.

  There was no response, and the cabin was silent. Then came a light sound on his right, and he whirled, to see the girl standing there with the moonlight glinting on her gun.

  She lowered the weapon slowly. “What do you want now?” she asked in a slow, dull voice, heavy with worry, Bond thought.

  “I told you, you might need a friend,” he said, “and I’m here.”

  She looked at him a long time and her eyes suddenly filled with tears. Bond waited for no more. He took a quick step and gathered her in his arms, and held her while she

  sobbed softly.

  Chapter Ten

  Swiftly Gladys recovered and drew away with a quick look around. She put away the gun and dried her eyes with a diminutive handkerchief.

  “That wasn’t like me,” she said. “But you might as well come in a minute. I don’t expect Father back . . . right away.”

  She led the way to the end of the cabin where there was a small closed-in porch, and a door into the kitchen. The housekeeper stared as the girl and Bond brushed past her and entered the living room. There Gladys paused by the table, resting one hand upon it and gazing at him doubtfully.

  “I don’t know you,” she said slowly, “but I’ve just got to trust someone, I suppose, and it might as well be a stranger as one of the crowd that hangs around this town.”

  “That’s me,” said Bond, nodding, with a sparkling light in his eyes. “You can trust me. I believe I told you that. I haven’t sprouted any wings, and don’t figure I ever will, but I’m not what you could call right out-and-out bad. I want to be the best friend you’ve got. I’ve made up my mind as to that.”

  Something in his voice and look caused her to turn her gaze aside.

  “What do you suppose Porky was doing here tonight?” she asked.

  “I think he came here intending to steal anything he could get his hands on in the way of money,” replied Bond readily. “I happen to know he had an undesirable job on hand, and I think he wanted to beat it but didn’t have anything to beat it on.”

  “He knows Father often has large sums of cash here,” said Gladys. “He pulled the picture away from the wall safe, for one thing, and looked in the drawers. He didn’t expect me home so soon.”

  “Then I was right,” said Bond, nodding in satisfaction.

  “Is . . . is he dead?” the girl faltered.

  “No, and I don’t think he’s hard enough hit to die. That was brave of you to try to take the blame, Miss Gladys. But you might know I wouldn’t let you do that.” He smiled brightly.

  “If you’re the man they think you are, you don’t need anyone to take the blame for anything you do,” she said slowly, looking at him intently.

  “Meaning just what, Miss Gladys?” he blandly asked.

  “Are you Bovert?” she countered quickly.

  “I’m Jim Bond,” he replied. “Who’s this Bovert?”

  The girl shrugged. “He’s a killer and all-around bad,” she answered, not once taking her eyes from his. “He’s bad enough for the sheriff to drift in here with word that he was on his way and to leave him alone. Guess he doesn’t want any more trouble out this way than he can help. Lester and even Dad think you’re Bovert, and . . . I’m wondering myself.”

  “All right,” Bond said, his eyes flashing. “If I am Bovert, I’m bad. I’ll leave it to you to figure out just how bad I am. But it takes a bad one to play with this bunch. I’m not counting your dad in on everything, understand. And this is all between you and me. We’re getting acquainted fast. Suppose you just know me as Jim Bond, and forget the last name when you’re talking to me.”

  “You don’t seem to be very much afraid of this bunch,” Gladys observed. “There was murder in Red Cole’s eyes twice tonight. How
. . . what kind of a job did Porky have to do that he didn’t like, if it’s all right for me to ask?”

  “Lester told him to follow your father, find out where he went and what he went for, if he could,” said Bond. “Lester seems to be interested in what your father does.”

  The girl’s eyes flashed. “Of course!” she exclaimed. “He’s afraid Father will leave town for good. He knows Dad is a drawing card for his place and . . .” She bit her lip in apparent vexation.

  Bond put his hat on the table and stepped closer to her. “Now, Miss Gladys, it’s time we talked frank and true. I’ve overheard a thing or two, but I’m just guessing. If you want me to help you, it’s up to you to come clean . . . to tell me what you think is up. I’ll shoot square and leave it to you to believe that my promise is good or not. But you’ve seen enough to know that I’m not in with anyone here.”

  “I suppose not,” said the girl in a worried tone. “Well, I’ll take a chance. Father does want to leave here, and he wants to take me with him and . . . and I want to go. He has bought a big ranch in Texas. He has business to attend to before he can go, and that’s what is bothering me, because I don’t know what it is, and he won’t tell me. Lester doesn’t want him to go. I’m afraid that Lawson has some kind of a big play on, and that Dad’s going in with him. He’s after a big stake, and it would be like him to take a big risk to get it. Now you have the substance of what I know, or don’t know.”

  “And that’s plenty,” said Jim Bond enthusiastically. “Now you and me can put two and two together and get our bearings.”

  “You’ll have to do the rest of the guessing,” said Gladys wearily.

  “And it’s my guess that you’re right”—Bond nodded—“but you haven’t gone far enough.” He looked at her thoughtfully. He was thinking of Red Cole’s indirect offer to go in with him on a job, which Cole thought Bond also had in mind. So Cole must see the handwriting on the wall, too. Bond smiled broadly.

  “If Lawson is planning a big job, he figures on leaving the country, also,” he told the girl. “And Lester, maybe, is afraid he’ll lose both your dad and Lawson’s outfit into the bargain. Lawson and his bunch are good for a lot of money when they start spending. It’s a three-cornered affair, and I’m going to play it that way . . . from your father’s corner.” He took up his hat.

  Gladys hurriedly put a hand on his arm. “You mustn’t . . . I mean you must be careful. What’re you going to do now?”

  “I’m going to follow your dad myself,” Bond announced. “The thing for you to do is to get that Smith girl to stay with you while he’s away, and, outside of that, go on with your work just the same as if nothing was up.” He stepped toward the doorway leading into the kitchen. “You better have the light put out so I can slip out quick and sly,” he cautioned. “And then . . . don’t worry.”

  His smile reassured the girl and she called to the housekeeper.

  “Don’t take any big risk yourself,” she whispered as he left her.

  Jim Bond went out with a thrill tingling within him, and the next instant he was alert and stealing through the shadows toward the spot where he had left his horse. He now sensed why Cole had accosted him at the roulette wheel. He understood Lester’s interest in him and Farlin’s evident desire to play safe, although the gambler undoubtedly had thought to lower him in Gladys’s estimation by playing on his suspected identity. As Bovert, he constituted a menace, as Jim Bond, he might easily be got rid of—perhaps. The part that he did not understand was the sheriff’s warning to leave him alone if he should be Bovert. Meanwhile, how were they to decide? By putting him to the test.

  These thoughts were racing through Bond’s mind as he came to his horse. He untied the reins and had his left foot in the stirrup when a sharp command broke the stillness.

  “Don’t get on that horse.”

  Bond’s foot came down in the instant his hand was reaching for the saddle horn to mount. He was caught fairly, and turned to see a big form looming in the shadow behind a gun that glinted in the starlight.

  “An’ don’t move much,” came the order. “Keep your right hand up in plain sight.”

  “All right, Lester,” said Bond, recognizing the voice. “And you’re kind of at a disadvantage in this light, are you not?”

  “Not so much,” said Big Tom with a short laugh. He stepped close to Bond and slipped his gun into its holster with a quick movement. “I’m willing to take a chance that I can shoot as quick as you can draw. This was the quickest way to stop you without startin’ a fuss an’ making a noise. It won’t do you any good to draw now.”

  Bond glanced about quickly, trying to pierce the darkness in the trees.

  “Don’t worry,” said Lester. “There’s nobody here but me.”

  “Then you were taking more chances than you thought,” Bond snapped, drawing his gun. “Now it doesn’t make much difference if there’s anyone around or not.”

  “I couldn’t talk to you in the shop,” said Lester, “so I waited till your visit to the young lady was over. I knew you’d go back up there, an’ I don’t blame you.”

  “That last remark wasn’t necessary,” said Bond. “You seem to be a busy man.” His words implied a sneer.

  “I reckon Dan Farlin would be less pleased than ever, if he knew Bovert was sneakin’ visits to his daughter behind his back,” said Lester, his words heavy with meaning.

  “No doubt,” Bond agreed. “This Bovert is bad medicine, I understand. Does he visit Farlin’s place when Farlin knows it?”

  Lester started to laugh again, but cut his simulated hilarity short.

  “Never mind,” he said in a patronizing tone. “I know you said your name was Bond, an’ that’s all right with me. I’m not telling what I know to anybody but you.” He paused, and his listener knew he was bluffing. “I take it you’re not up here on a vacation.”

  Bond started. It was the same intimation that had been made by Red Cole. Were two sides of the triangle trying to use him? He determined to learn what he could.

  “I’m not old enough to take a vacation,” he said, dropping the reins from his left hand.

  “Of course not . . . an’ that was just an opening.” There were assurance and confidence in Lester’s voice. “I’ve got a proposition. I don’t know what you’ve got in mind to pull up here, an’ I don’t care.” He paused to clear his throat and Bond immediately decided that this last was sheer bravado.

  “I’ll pay you well,” Big Tom went on. “Porky went up to Farlin’s tonight to steal some money. You caught him at it an’ put him out for keeps. I had him in mind for another job. He wanted to beat it, for his nerve was gone. You can do the business, if you will, an’ it’ll give you an edge on Farlin in the bargain.”

  “I didn’t put Porky out for keeps,” said Bond, frowning.

  “He’s too old . . . he won’t pull out of it,” said Lester.

  “Because you don’t want him to, eh? You’re pretty lowdown, Lester. I wouldn’t finish the job on Porky, if I were you, and that’s putting it to you straight. I mean it. That poor chap didn’t have a chance with you. And you want to hand his job to me.”

  “I’d hand you a different job than I’d care to hand him,” growled Lester. “I’m not afraid of you, Bov—. . . I mean Bond. If you was to have real trouble with me, it would only hurt any game you’ve got in mind up here. You’ve got sense enough to see that.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” said Bond, thinking fast. “What have you got in mind for me to do?”

  Big Tom stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Dan Farlin is goin’ out of town. He’s goin’ soon. Follow him, find out where he goes, an’ why, if you can, an’ let me know. I’ll slip you a couple thousand, maybe five, an’ let you in on something if you want it. An’ I won’t ask any questions.”

  Bond stood still, staring at him in amazement. Either the man was a plain fool, or he had some dangerous ulterior motive. Bond decided the latter was the case.

  “All right,”
he said, “but suppose I run into Lawson’s bunch? Cole has me on his list, you know.”

  “Cole an’ the rest of them, except Lawson, left town a few minutes ago, ridin’ west,” said Lester. “Lawson is stayin’ over, but you’re not likely to run into him. Of course, you may have to take a chance or two, but I guess that ain’t out of your line.”

  “No, I reckon not,” said Bond vaguely.

  “Then why . . . ?” Lester stopped and listened. The sound of a horse’s flying hoofs came to them clearly from the trail leading east out of town.

  “I . . . that must be Farlin startin’,” said Lester, excited.

  “In that case, I’ll slide along after him,” said Bond. “But there’s one thing, Lester. Keep the wolves away from the Farlin cabin, and let Porky get well by himself. Is it a part of the bargain or not? If not . . . I don’t go.”

  “It’s a part,” said Lester eagerly. “Go ahead, an’ don’t fall down on me, for I . . .”

  But Bond had swung into the saddle and was riding in the shadow of the trees toward the east trail that crossed the plain to Crazy Butte and swung off to Rocky Point.

  Chapter Eleven

  When Jim Bond swung out upon the plain, he descried the lone rider ahead, a floating shadow on the prairie. He did not think that Farlin would ride fast, for he had shown the effects of the short ride he had taken when he had found Bond and Gladys together. As Bond’s horse was fleet and possessed of great endurance, he felt he would have no difficulty in keeping Farlin in sight if he delayed his start. And, he was not altogether sure that the man ahead was Farlin.

  Bond turned down along the trees on the bank of the creek and soon swung back into the shadows. He walked his horse back through the timber and tied it for the second time that night. He had seen no indication that he was being watched and was ready with the explanation that he wished to be sure that the lone rider was Farlin in the event that he was accosted the second time. He crept along the shadows to the rear of the Red Arrow.

  During the short time he had been in the resort, Bond had been careful to inspect it thoroughly. He knew there were no windows in the side on which were located the bar, Big Tom Lester’s private office, and the private card rooms. He knew, too, that only a thin partition separated Lester’s office from the first of the card rooms.