by Clive Dawson
Everley was silent for a moment, then said, ‘With Bellamy still runnin’ the Town Committee, I’d say your chances are pretty small. But I’ll tell you what I will do. I’ll ride out to all the other small ranchers around town. If they know what’s happenin’, it’s possible they’ll join us.’
‘How many men do you reckon we can count on if they all decide to join us?’ Frank asked tensely.
Everley performed a quick mental count. ‘Between forty and fifty, I reckon. But you’ve got to understand, none o’ these men are seasoned gunfighters. For the most part, they’re just hired hands, cattle herders and the like.’
‘Maybe so, but as long as they know how to handle a Colt, we need ’em. And when you talk with these ranchers, tell ’em that if they don’t all band together, Bellamy and his killers will pick ’em all off, one by one. Meanwhile, I’ll call together the Town Committee and ask for men willin’ to help protect the town if those gunslingers do have it in mind to hit Condor.’
CHAPTER VIII
INTRIGUE
The Town Committee had already gathered an hour later when Frank walked in. There were six of them. Three Frank already knew. Curt Bellamy, fat and pompous was evidently the head of the committee. Next to him were Colter, the gunsmith, and Forbes, who owned the provisions store.
‘Very well, Kelsey,’ Bellamy began, ‘you asked to speak with the committee. We’re all here, ready to listen to what you want to say.’ There was a malicious glint in his eyes which Frank noticed at once.
‘I guess some o’ you might know why I’m here,’ he said thinly. ‘Whether you like it or not, I’m here to uphold the law in this town and—’
‘And if you don’t mind me saying so,’ Colter interrupted sharply, ‘you ain’t makin’ a very good job of it. This town was mighty peaceful under Sheriff McDonald afore you came.’
Frank smiled slightly, keeping his temper under tight control. ‘Peaceful. At least four stages held up and three people killed that I know of. An outlaw band hidin’ out in the hills. You call that peaceful?’ Contempt dripped from his voice as he stared round at the gathering.
In the centre of the meeting, he noticed the satisfied smirk on the banker’s flabby face. For an instant, his fury threatened to boil over. It was only with a supreme effort that he held it in check.
‘And what have we got now?’ called another man. ‘The deputy shot in the shoulder and locked up on an unsubstantiated charge o’ murder; a sheriff elected against our wishes by the circuit judge; the lawyer shot down in the street; an outlaw band ridin’ in from over the border and—’ He stopped his flow of words abruptly as though realizing he had said more than he should.
Glancing round, Frank saw the look of intense anger which had passed across Bellamy’s face.
Smiling grimly, Frank retorted, ‘That’s the reason why I’m here, friend. So far, I’ve had to work on my own. I need some men to back me if those gunslingers do decide to ride in and take over this town.’
‘Now you’re tryin’ to scare us into meetin’ your demands,’ Forbes said coolly. ‘We’ve no proof there are any outlaws headed this way. Even if there are, there’s no reason for them to attack the town. It’ll be the ranchers they’ll attack and we’ve no cause to help them.’
‘If you think that, you’re a bunch o’ fools. Have any of you ever seen a frontier town after it’s been hit by these outlaw bands? Believe me, there ain’t much left of it. It’ll be far worse than when the Indians launched their attacks years ago.’
One of the other men leaned forward. ‘Seems to me you’re doin’ a lot o’ talking about these supposed killers, Sheriff. You ain’t figurin’ on bringin’ in any federal marshals, are you?’
‘If I don’t get any co-operation from any o’ you, I might just do that.’ He saw the look on Bellamy’s face at these words. He knew that this was the last thing the banker wanted. Once any marshals started asking around, probing into things, there was the distinct possibility they might uncover something of his own nefarious activities.
Coughing nervously, the banker interrupted. ‘If you’re so convinced about the possibility the town might be attacked, I think we should look into this more closely. I’m far from convinced myself but in the circumstances, perhaps we should appoint a deputy and also designate men to act as a posse should the need arise.’
‘Now you’re seein’ sense,’ Frank grated. He knew Bellamy had only changed his mind in the face of his threat to bring in help from outside. Much as it went against the banker’s grain, it was the only thing Bellamy could do if he wanted to keep things under his control.
It was evident that the other members of the committee were surprised by Bellamy’s abrupt change of attitude. Forbes said harshly, ‘I thought we’d agreed not to put ourselves in danger from outlaws? I reckon there ain’t one of us who cares if these ranchers do get attacked. But if we let this lawman have his way, we’ll simply be inviting these gunhawks to hit Condor as well.’
Bellamy tightened his lips, staring across at Forbes. ‘If any of you disagree with my decision, we’ll discuss it in private. Meanwhile, as chairman of this committee, what I’ve just said stands.’
When there were no further comments, Frank nodded. ‘I guess I’ll leave you gentlemen to your deliberations. As for having a deputy and some men to back me up, I’d like those as quickly as possible. Somehow, I have the feelin’ that time is runnin’ out fast.’
‘You’ll get them,’ Bellamy said smoothly.
When Frank had gone, Forbes said harshly, ‘What sort o’ game are you playin’, Bellamy? We all agreed we want rid o’ this sheriff. Now you agree to whatever he demands.’
‘Calm yourself, Forbes.’ Bellamy snapped. ‘I did it for the good of all of us. None of us wants a bunch o’ federal marshals comin’ here and probing into our affairs. Knowing Kelsey, that wasn’t an idle threat he just made.’
He turned to Colter sitting next to him. ‘You got anythin’ to say?’ he asked thinly.
The gunsmith shifted slightly in his chair. ‘In my opinion, Kelsey must be got rid of as soon as possible.’
‘And how do you propose doin’ that?’ Bellamy retorted sarcastically. ‘This lawman ain’t no pushover like McDonald. And don’t forget what happened to Sefton when he tried to kill Sheldon.’
‘I ain’t forgetting anythin’. But there’s one man who hates Kelsey like poison. I reckon he’d do it for us.’
‘And who might that be?’ the banker asked.
‘Clive Hawkins.’
The banker uttered a harsh laugh. ‘Hawkins? He’ll be well over the Mexico border by now.’
There was a sly grin on the gunsmith’s harsh features as he said, ‘I guess that’s what everyone thinks.’
Bellamy’s brow furrowed in perplexity. ‘You’re tellin’ us he didn’t go on the run once Sefton busted him out o’ jail?’
‘That’s exactly what I’m tellin’ you. Hawkins ain’t the kind to run when he has a score to settle with the hombre who busted his shoulder.’
‘So where is he now?’ Forbes asked.
‘Right now, he’s in my back room just waitin’ for his chance to get even with Kelsey.’
‘Then I reckon the sooner he gets it, the better,’ Bellamy said, a broad grin creasing his features. ‘You sure Hawkins can take Kelsey?’
Colter’s thin lips curled a little more. ‘He only needs one hand to hold the gun when he shoots this sheriff down from cover. Kelsey reckons he’s got everythin’ tied up. Hawkins will be the last man he’ll think of as bein’ in town.’
‘Then tell him he’s to do it tonight. The longer Kelsey lives, the more dangerous he becomes.’ Lighting a further cigar, Bellamy blew the smoke contentedly into the air. Things were turning out far better than he had expected. This news about Hawkins could not have come at a better time.
By now, he estimated those men from across the border would be within a few miles of the town. It had cost him quite a bit but the thought of owning virtually
all of the land around Condor, ready to sell it at a high price to the railroad company, brought an intense sense of elation.
How far he could trust these outlaws, he wasn’t sure, but that was a risk he had to take if he was to achieve his ambitions. His orders to them had been explicit. One by one, the ranchers were to be eliminated. Once their herds had been rustled, they would soon see sense and sell out. Those who didn’t would be killed, or driven off at gunpoint.
He finished his cigar before getting to his feet and declaring the meeting at an end.
A little after midnight, Clive Hawkins slipped out of the rear door of the gunsmith’s shop and melted into the moon-thrown shadows. Deep inside him, there was just one thought burning through his brain. It had been an easy task killing McDonald and now he anticipated no trouble doing the same to Kelsey.
As far as the sheriff was aware, he was now miles away in Mexico. It would never have occurred to the other that he would return here. His left arm was still virtually useless and he knew, that against a man like Kelsey, he would have to make his first shot count. His only regret was that Kelsey would die without knowing who had killed him.
A deep silence lay over the entire town. It was as if he was the only one for miles, moving around. That suited him perfectly. He had already decided not to ambush Kelsey from the shadows of one of the alleys. Knowing him, that was where Kelsey would be keeping a sharp eye open, just in case of trouble.
Easing his way along the backs of the buildings, moving noiselessly from one shadow to another, he worked his way to the rear of the livery stables. With Ben Sheldon still lying seriously ill in the doctor’s surgery, the stables would be deserted.
Very slowly, his finger tight on the trigger of his Colt, he edged around the side of the tall building, pausing at the end to throw a quick glance along the street. It, too, was completely empty in the yellow moonlight.
Slipping inside, he waited until his eyes had become adjusted to the gloom. Several of the stalls were occupied but the horses made no sound as he walked past them. At the far end, he made out the ladder leading up into the hay loft.
Pulling up with one hand, he finally reached the top. To his right was the window overlooking the street. Carefully, he made his way across. It was latched but a moment later, he had it fully open.
This was going to be like shooting a sitting duck, he thought to himself grimly as he settled down to wait. Another thought struck him as he crouched there. Kelsey would be approaching from his office at the other end of the street. This time, his victim would not be shot in the back like McDonald. Perhaps, in his last few seconds, Kelsey might even know who had killed him.
The thought gave him an intense sense of satisfaction. With Kelsey dead, there would be another sheriff in Condor, a man who knew when to take orders from those who put him in that position. With his busted arm, he doubted it would be him, but Bellamy would have to pay him for what he was about to do, and pay well.
Cautiously, an inch at a time, he leaned forward so that he could view everything outside. The entire area was in darkness except for the single shaft of light spilling through the window of Kelsey’s office.
Five minutes later, the light was extinguished. Tensing himself, Hawkins eased himself into a position where he could bring up his gun and take aim. In the distance, he made out Kelsey’s unmistakable figure as he stepped onto the boardwalk.
Resting his shoulder against the wall, Hawkins waited. He saw Kelsey pause as he drew level with the narrow alley. He was obviously still cautious even though he clearly expected no trouble. Very slowly, Hawkins lifted his gun.
Pushing his gaze into the shadowed alley, Frank saw that it was empty. Nothing moved in the long shadows. The whole town was quiet and still; too quiet. For some reason he couldn’t analyse, a sense of menace hung in the unmoving air. It was something he had experienced on innumerable occasions before. A feeling that something was wrong.
Advancing slowly along the middle of the street, probing every alley he passed, he felt the prickling sensation increase. He was certain neither Bellamy nor any of those men on the Town Committee would make any move against him. So why did he have this odd feeling that eyes were watching him intently from somewhere in the shadows?
Coming to an abrupt halt some thirty yards from the end of the street, he turned his head slowly from side to side, his keen-eyed gaze taking note of everything. He could see nothing out of the ordinary to explain this sense of wrongness.
Yet there was something and that something was not as it should be. In a sudden flash of clarity, he recognized what it was: the window at the top of the livery stables was fully open!
Instinctive reflexes took over his muscles. Without pausing to think, he threw himself sideways and down, hitting the ground in the same instant that he glimpsed the spurt of blue gunflame. The slug passed through the space where he had been a second earlier. It pecked at the dirt less than a foot behind him. His Colt was in his hand in a split second. Jerking it up, he rolled over onto his side.
He caught a glimpse of the dark, anonymous shape just as he squeezed the trigger. In the pale wash of moonlight, he saw the man lurch upright as the bullet took him in the chest. For a moment, the man hung there, his body falling forward over the sill. Then he toppled outward, plummeting onto the dirt below.
Going forward, his Colt still pointed at the figure, he turned the inert body over. Hawkins’s features were twisted into a mask of stunned amazement, his eyes staring sightlessly at Frank.
A couple of minutes later, Pearson came running up, pulling his jacket across his shoulders. Glancing down at the body, he muttered in a surprised tone, ‘It’s Hawkins. But I figured he was way across the border.’
Grimly, Frank said, ‘I reckon he never intended to make a run for it after he got out o’ jail. My feelin’ is that someone in this town has been shelterin’ him all this time.’
‘Bellamy?’ Pearson asked tautly.
‘Could be, though I doubt it. He’s too clever to run a risk like that, harbourin’ a wanted killer. I’m damned sure he knew Hawkins was still in town, but it would be one o’ his friends who sheltered this killer.’
Pearson rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘Whoever is behind all this, they sure want to see you up there in Boot Hill, Frank.’
‘Then I guess they’ll have to do better than this.’ Inwardly, he was more worried about those men riding in from across the border. Most of those men on the Town Committee had seemed too eager to disbelieve the idea that there was any threat. The disturbing thought he had in his mind was that this dismissal of the possibility was not because they wished to delude themselves, but because most, if not all, of them knew it to be true.
He knew he would get nothing of the truth by questioning them. The only way open to him was to ride out and watch the trail leading north from the border.
It wanted two hours to noon when Frank approached the southern end of the hills. He had deliberately ridden around them rather than try to find a trail through them. Not only would that have slowed him down, but those two killers who had escaped from the attack on Ivers were, as far as he knew, still holed up there somewhere. Among those trees, it would be quite easy to pick him off from cover.
Endless and stifling, the heat beat down from the cloudless heavens, glaring off the desert wasteland. Just a short distance away, a tall spur of rock marked the boundary of the pines. Beside it was a small open space lying in the black shadow of the rock.
Gently, he edged the stallion into it and dismounted. From there, he had an unimpeded view of the white wilderness clear to the distant horizon. He knew he had ridden out here on a hunch, but at the moment, that was all he had to go on.
At the recent meeting with the Town Committee, Bellamy had changed his stance so quickly that Frank knew there had to be a reason behind it and the only one he could think of was that the banker knew these renegades would reach this neck of the woods very soon.
Squinting against the harsh brill
iance of the reflected sunlight, he scanned the hazy distance. Nothing moved anywhere. Even the zopilote buzzards were absent. Tilting his hat forward over his eyes, he settled himself into as comfortable a position as possible. It looked as though it was going to be a long wait.
He waited patiently in the blistering, scalding heat of the early afternoon. Common sense told him that it was unlikely these men would ride through the heat of the day. It was more probable they would hole up on the far edge of the wilderness until the cooler evening came before making a crossing.
Much, of course, would depend upon the orders they had been given and how much they were being paid. Money talked, even among cut-throats and gunhawks such as these. He built himself another smoke, mentally counting the number of cigarette butts which lay on the ground beside him. If he had been mistaken, it would be a wasted day and should Bellamy discover he was out of town, there was no knowing what the banker might do.
Then, just as the sun was halfway down the heavens towards the west, he picked out the faint cloud of dust far off towards the south. Cautiously, he rose to his feet. Judging from the extent of the cloud, he estimated there were at least twenty men in that bunch.
This time, he thought fiercely, Bellamy intended to make no mistakes. With those men at his back, there was very little anyone could do to stop him. It was when the riders were less than a mile distant that a sudden movement to his left caught his attention.
Narrowing his eyes, he fixed his gaze on the solitary rider spurring his mount rapidly towards the approaching men. At first, he thought it was Bellamy, but then instantly dismissed the thought. The man was big and sat his mount like a seasoned gunfighter.
Frank’s mind immediately jumped to the only conclusion that made any sense. Of those two killers who had escaped following the abortive attack on Ivers’ stage, one had been shot during the battle, and since the man he now saw was clearly uninjured, he had to be the other gunslinger.