Slocum and the Killers

by Jake Logan

  “Let’s go then,” said Holmes, standing up to leave.

  “You need a fresh horse?”

  “I’d take one.”

  They went back outside and saddled a horse for Holmes as well as Slocum’s Appaloosa.

  “You want me and Old Jan to ride along with you?” Billy asked as Slocum and Holmes mounted up.

  “No,” said Slocum. “Wait here. We’ll be back.”

  They rode out in the direction Holmes had come from. They rode slowly, looking for any sign of other riders. After a few minutes, Holmes said, “Right about here is where I spotted the smoke.” They stopped and looked back. From their location, the smoke was just visible.

  “If Gillian spotted it, too,” Slocum said, “he’d have been close to here. Let’s ride north.”

  They turned their horses and rode slowly, watching the ground. They got some distance north and lost sight of the smoke, so they turned west a short distance and then headed south again, still riding slowly.

  “There,” said Slocum. “Look there.”

  “Someone rode hard toward the ranch, stopped, turned, and rode back,” said Holmes.

  “That’s how I read it,” said Slocum.

  They followed the tracks back to where they joined up with the tracks of several other horses.

  “Looks like they stood here for a bit,” Slocum said.

  “They spotted the smoke and sat and talked about what to do,” Holmes said.

  “Then they decided to hightail it out of here,” Slocum said. “They’re going back west.”

  “Kind of northwest,” Holmes said.

  “Yeah.”

  “You riding after them?”

  “Not till morning,” Slocum said. “Right now, I’ll go back to the cookshack. We’ll pack for the trail, and head out with first light in the morning. You’re welcome to ride along if you like.”

  “Thanks,” said Holmes. “I’ll take you up on that.”

  Slocum and Holmes rode back to the corral, unsaddled their horses, and turned them loose inside the fence. Slocum made sure there was food and water for them. Old Jan and Billy came walking up.

  “What did you find out there?” Billy asked.

  “We found their trail,” said Slocum. “We’re going after them first thing in the morning.”

  “I’ll pack up any food that’ll keep on the trail,” said Old Jan. “Some plates and cups.”

  “Yeah,” said Slocum. “All the ammunition you can find, and what’s left of the whiskey.”

  “You notice those hoofprints, Slocum?” Holmes said.

  “Yeah. I’d say the horses were all packing gold.”

  “That’s what I say.”

  “It’ll slow them down some,” said Slocum.

  “Yeah, but they got a good start on us. They might make Devil’s Gap before we catch up with them.”

  “Devil’s Gap?” Slocum said.

  “It’s a mining town in the foothills west of here,” said Holmes. “Small place. No sheriff or any kind of lawman.”

  “No law?”

  “Just a miners’ court,” said Holmes.

  “Say, Slocum,” said Billy.

  “Yeah?”

  “What are we going to do about them three we got tied up inside?”

  “We might leave them to starve,” Slocum said.

  “We can’t do that,” said Old Jan.

  Slocum turned and walked back into the shack. He looked at Limpy and the other two.

  “Your boss ran out on you,” he said.

  “I ain’t surprised,” said Limpy. “Not after what we learned about that goddamned Sluice. And they’re pards.”

  “What’ll you do if we turn you loose?”

  “Head for Texas,” said Limpy.

  “Good,” said Slocum. “That sounds to me like a damn good idea.”

  18

  Reb Gillian, Sluice, and their three gunhands approached Devil’s Gap about the middle of the day on a sunny day. They halted a little above the town while Gillian studied it.

  “What’re you waiting for, Reb?” said Sluice.

  “That’s a rough town down there,” Gillian said. “It might be kind of stupid riding down there with all this gold on these horses.”

  “Oh,” said Sluice. “Yeah. I guess you’re right about that. So what’ll we do?”

  Reb dismounted and looked around. There was a small shack up against a hillside. It seemed to be deserted. Reb jerked his thumb toward it. “Homer,” he said, “you boys check that out.”

  The three men rode over to the shack and dismounted. Homer led them into the shack. In a minute, Homer came back out. He walked around to the side of the house. Then he walked around to the other side. There was a small corral with a couple of busted rails. Homer remounted his horse and rode back over to where Gillian stood waiting. The other two gunnies followed him.

  “Well?” said Reb.

  “Place is deserted,” said Homer. “Ain’t no one been in there for some time, I’d say.”

  “All right,” said Reb. “We’re taking it over. First thing, let’s unload all this gold into the house. Then put the horses in the corral.”

  The men all set to work. Gillian found some loose floorboards and pulled them up. He had the men stash the gold under the floor and replace the boards, although he hauled out a couple of handfuls of coins first and put them in his pocket. The men unloaded the horses and put them in the corral. Gillian had the men leave his horse and Sluice’s saddled. When they were all done, he said, “You three stay here and guard this place. Look around for some water and fill that old trough out in the corral. Me and Sluice is going into town to check things out. We’ll bring back some oats for the horses.”

  “How about some fresh grub?” asked one of the men.

  “We’ll bring it,” said Gillian.

  “And some whiskey,” said Homer.

  “That, too,” Gillian said. “All right, Sluice. Let’s go look it over.”

  They mounted up and headed for Devil’s Gap. Homer and the other two stood and watched them go. Then Homer said, “Well, let’s go find some water.”

  “I seen a pump over by the corral,” said one.

  “Oh, yeah?” said Homer. “Let’s check it out and see if it still works.”

  They found an old bucket and the pump worked. It wasn’t long before they had the trough filled and the horses were drinking. They dug some hardtack and jerky out of their packs and sat down outside in front of the shack to eat.

  “Any idea how long they’ll be gone?” said one.

  “Hell, Bobtail,” said Homer, “they’ll be gone a while. Don’t worry about it.”

  “I’d sure like to have some good grub,” Bobtail said.

  “Whiskey,” said the third man.

  “I’m with you, Carlos,” said Homer. “But we’ll just have to wait.”

  “Say,” Bobtail said. “Why should we hang around here?”

  “What do you mean?” Homer asked.

  “Just this,” said Bobtail. “I don’t know what the hell is in this fucking dirty little town for us. We’ve already got enough gold to keep us living in style for the rest of our lives.”

  “Go on,” said Carlos.

  “I say let’s take two bags of that stuff and head for California. San Francisco maybe. We can live like kings, and no one would ever find us there.”

  “I don’t like Californee,” said Homer. “I was out there once before. They’re still looking for me, I reckon.”

  “Well, then, St. Louee, or maybe New Orleans,” Bobtail said.

  “I’ve always wanted to see New Orleans,” said Carlos.

  “If we take off from here with some of that gold,” Homer said, “Reb’s really going to be pissed off at us.”

  “You think he’ll come after us?” Bobtail asked.

  “He might,” said Carlos.

  “We won’t be taking no more than our share,” said Bobtail.

  “Yeah, but taking it and running off behind his
back is what will piss him off,” said Homer.

  “I’m sure getting tired of hardtack and jerky,” Carlos said. “There’s fancy food in New Orleans.”

  “And plenty of whiskey,” said Bobtail.

  “Well,” said Homer, “what do you say?”

  “I say we take a bag each,” said Carlos. “That still leaves them two with plenty. They find out how much we left for them, they ought to be glad we left them so much. They shouldn’t even bother following us.”

  “They’ll follow us all right,” said Homer. “Our only chance will be to ride hard and ride fast and cover our trail. And the sooner we get started, the better.”

  Homer and Bobtail went out to saddle the horses while Carlos pulled up the floorboards and hauled out three bags of gold. They poured the gold into their saddlebags, half a bag in each side. They did think to replace the floorboards before taking off, but soon, they were headed southeast.

  Out on the prairie, Sheriff Holmes, Slocum, Old Jan, and Billy Pierce were riding toward Devil’s Gap. They did not know it, but Jigs was on their trail not far behind. They were riding along at a leisurely pace to save the horses.

  “How much longer do you reckon it is to Devil’s Gap?” Slocum asked.

  “I’d say we have another half day’s ride,” Holmes said.

  “You think they’ll still be there?” Billy asked.

  “There ain’t no other place for them to go up this way,” Holmes said. “They’ll be there all right.”

  Just at that moment, three riders topped a slight rise ahead of them. They did not recognize the riders. They could have been any passing strangers, but one of the riders did recognize Holmes.

  “Hey,” shouted Homer. “It’s that goddamned sheriff.”

  He jerked out his six-gun and fired a wild shot. Slocum dismounted quickly, dragging his Winchester with him. He dropped to the ground on his stomach. Billy, Old Jan, and the sheriff were not far behind him. The three outlaws did the same. No one had a good, clear shot, but that did not stop them from shooting. A bullet hit the ground a couple of feet in front of Slocum’s face. He scooted back a little farther. Billy Pierce fired a shot at the outlaws, but it missed its mark. Old Jan was waiting for a good shot. The sheriff was waiting, too, while he watched the outlaws’ horses running loose back behind them. He was thinking that at least some of the gold had to be on those horses.

  Across the way, Bobtail said to Homer, “I think if I can get a little closer, I can get a shot at one of them.”

  “There’s no cover up there,” Homer said.

  “If I just scoot myself,” Bobtail said, “I think I can do it.”

  “You’d be taking a chance,” Homer said.

  “It’s better than just laying here in this Mexican standoff,” Bobtail said, and he started to scooch himself forward. A shot from the other side came close to him and made him stop. Homer looked back behind him at the loose horses. He nudged Carlos.

  “What?” Carlos said.

  “Let Bobtail get up a little bit farther,” said Homer, “and then let’s grab our horses and get the hell out of here.”

  “That’s a dirty trick,” said Carlos.

  “It’s better than getting killed out here, ain’t it?”

  Carlos looked forward to where Bobtail was still scooting forward. He looked back at Homer. “Say when,” he said.

  Homer waited a little longer while Bobtail moved on still farther. Then he said, “Let’s go.”

  Homer shoved himself backward staying on his belly, and Carlos followed his example. When they were back down the slope a ways, Homer stood up in a crouch and ran for his horse. Carlos did the same. They reached the horses and mounted up quickly, turning them to ride south. Holmes saw them, and snapped off a shot from his Henry rifle. He missed, but Bobtail saw him shoot and twisted his head to see what the sheriff had shot at. He saw Homer and Carlos riding away. He turned and sat up, aiming his rifle.

  “You sons of bitches,” he shouted, and he fired, his bullet catching Carlos in the small of the back. Carlos flung his arms up and fell backward over the horse’s rump, turning a flip and landing hard on his face and stomach.

  Billy Pierce stood up and fired at Bobtail, catching him between the shoulder blades. Bobtail fell forward at first, then rocked back and sprawled out on the ground. Homer was racing away as fast as he could go.

  Slocum and the rest mounted up and rode toward the bodies. Billy checked Bobtail and found that he was dead. Old Jan rode on to where Carlos had fallen. He, too, was done for. Holmes caught up the first horse he came to and checked the saddlebags.

  “They’re full of the stolen gold,” he yelled. “Grab that other one over there.”

  Old Jan went after the last loose horse, while Slocum lit out after Homer.

  Looking over his shoulder, Homer saw that he was being chased. This was not the way he had planned it. He had figured that Bobtail would keep them busy long enough for him and Carlos to get safely away, but the fool had turned and fired at his own buddies. Goddamn him to hell. Homer lashed at his horse, but it was weighted down with gold, and it likely would not have been a match for the big Appaloosa following him anyway. He saw his opportunity and swung around behind a large boulder, where he dismounted with his rifle. He took aim over the boulder and snapped off a shot at Slocum. It came close. Slocum pulled off behind some brush and dismounted with his Winchester. He could see where Homer was hidden.

  Homer’s horse had wandered out into the open, and Slocum took careful aim and fired a shot. His bullet tore the saddlebag on the horse’s right side. The horse nickered and reared a bit, but it did not run. Slocum aimed a second time. This time, his shot tore the bag open and gold coins started to pour out onto the ground. From his spot behind the boulder, Homer could see the coins falling.

  “Hey,” he yelled. “Goddamn it.”

  He fired a shot in Slocum’s general direction, then ran out to his horse. He first tried to stop the flow of the coins, then decided that he was in Slocum’s line of fire. He grabbed the reins and started pulling the horse behind the boulder. His first thought was that if he could kill the son of a bitch, he would pick up the fallen coins. Then he decided against that. He still had one bag filled. That would be enough. There were those other men back there, and they would surely be coming up here soon. He fired another shot close to where he figured Slocum was hiding.

  But Slocum was not there. He had begun working his way through the brush, heading for a location on a line from where Homer was behind his boulder. Homer fired again. He waited. He got no reaction of any kind to his shot. He looked around in desperation. Damn it, he thought. Where is he? Where is the bastard? Just then he heard a voice, close.

  “Hey, you,” it said.

  He turned quickly and saw Slocum standing just across the way facing him. There was nothing between them. Each man had a clear shot. Homer hesitated. Then he swung his rifle around. Slocum’s Colt barked, and a bullet tore into Homer’s chest. He felt the impact. He felt it burn its way into him. His fingers grew limp and he dropped his rifle. He looked down at the growing red splotch on his chest, and then he pitched forward dead.

  Shortly, the other men joined Slocum. They gathered up the spilt money and stuffed it into the other saddlebags.

  “There are only the two of them now,” said Holmes. “They don’t know it, but they’ll be waiting for us in Devil’s Gap.”

  Jigs watched it all happen from a safe spot some distance away. When he finally saw Slocum and the others riding away, he carefully made his way down to the scene of the recent conflict. The first thing he came across was the body of Bobtail. He took all the guns and ammunition and what little cash he found on it. He moved on to where Carlos had fallen and did the same to him. He had four new guns and about six dollars. Leading his horse, he made his way to where Slocum had encountered Homer, and he found Homer’s body. Again, he got the guns and the money. He now had a little over ten dollars, six new guns, and three belts of ammunition
. He was disappointed. He had hoped to find more cash. Maybe the goddamned sheriff and those others had beaten him to it. He could not figure out why they had left the ten dollars, though. He was just turning, starting to walk back to his horse, when he spotted a gold coin on the ground. His eyes lit up. He ran to it and picked it up. He held it close to his face. It had to be a part of the gold that Gillian and Sluice and the others had gone after.

  So the sheriff and those others had it now. They had ridden on with all the horses of the three men they had killed. The gold had to be on those horses. He decided that he would follow it. He had no idea what he would do when he caught up with them, but he could not ride away from all that gold. He had to go after them. He tucked the gold coin in his pocket with the ten dollars or so he had gotten off the three dead bodies, mounted his horse, and continued following the sheriff and the others.

  They had said they were going to Texas, but Limpy and his two pards got to thinking about all the gold that Gillian would have, and they agreed that they were owed a share. They packed for a long ride and started after the sheriff and the others. They were well behind, so they rode along at a good clip. Each of them also had a full bottle of whiskey in his saddlebags. As they rode along, one of the men pulled out his bottle and uncorked it as he rode. He took a good, long swig.

  “Hey, Bo,” said Limpy. “You don’t want to go getting drunk in the saddle. You’re liable to fall off somewhere along the way.”

  “Ah, that ain’t going to happen,” said Bo, and he took another drink.

  The third man was watching, and he was easily persuaded. He pulled out his bottle and joined Bo in his revelry. They rode on awhile before Limpy said, “Aw, hell,” and he brought out his own and joined them. Soon, they started singing bawdy songs out of tune in gravelly voices. They began rocking and swaying in their saddles. They were following a winding and narrow trail leading generally northwest, and for a short distance there were trees and brush on each side. Bo tipped his bottle back and had another drink. He lost his grip and dropped the bottle. He swayed dizzily and fell off to one side. He hung on to the saddle horn with one hand, and his head was almost dragging in the dirt.