by Jake Logan
“And you, Slocum, and you!”
Cooper’s patience had run out. He gave the signal for his men to begin their frontal assault. It wasn’t a pretty attack or one very well thought out, but it didn’t have to be. Other than Slocum and Lydia, no one inside the house was uninjured. As Slocum moved, he felt more than a twinge from the wounds Shotgun Larsen had given him. He was even a tad lightheaded, though that had gone away for a spell after the fine breakfast Mrs. Graham had given him.
Slocum settled down, back against the wall, and thought on her. It was a pity he hadn’t come across her earlier, but then it wouldn’t have mattered, since she was seeing John Tewksbury and married to Tom Graham. Before he could ponder on who had shot Graham, the wall above him exploded.
“Here they come,” Lydia cried.
Cooper and his men rode toward them full tilt, firing as fast as they could.
“Make every shot count,” Slocum warned. “They’ll be on us in an instant.”
He swung his rifle up and fired twice, then frowned. Something was different. The intensity of fire had increased drastically, but it didn’t seem to be coming from Cooper and his men. They were twisted around in the saddles, firing over their shoulders—and dying as they did.
“We got help,” Slocum shouted. “Give ’em all you got!”
He fired until the magazine came up empty, grabbed a fallen rifle and emptied that, then whipped out his Colt Navy and began firing it. The air took on a fine red mist from the blood of Cooper’s men dying. And then there fell an eerie silence, interrupted only by the sporadic moans of wounded men strewn on the ground around the front of the house.
Slocum stepped out onto the porch and saw Tewksbury and twenty or more ranchers trotting up. All held smoking rifles or pistols.
“Took you long enough to get here,” Slocum said.
“Had to stop and pay my respects to Mrs. Graham,” Tewksbury said, grinning crookedly.
“She tell you what Cooper was planning?”
“That and she said you was gonna hole up here to protect Lydia and the rest. Burnin’ down the Blevins place weren’t half as much fun as cuttin’ down Cooper and his men.”
“Where is he?” Slocum stepped out into the mud caused by the tremendous outpouring of blood. He walked around hunting for Andy Cooper but didn’t find him. “Anybody get away?”
“Not so’s I saw, but then I was blinded by all that gunsmoke. Filled the air, it did, we was firin’ so hard.”
Slocum listened to Tewksbury go on and on about how he had chosen to attack Cooper in the same way that Cooper had caught him earlier, but Slocum knew it was all chin music. If Mrs. Graham hadn’t happened to tell Tewksbury where Cooper was and what he intended, the rancher would have ridden on to the Blevins spread and a whole passel more would be dead.
Slocum included.
“He’s not here. He got away.” Slocum wiped the sweat and dirt from his forehead and looked around. The only place Cooper could have gone was to the west. When Tewksbury had attacked, Andy Cooper had kept riding rather than turning to see what was going on. That instinctive cowardice had saved him again.
“Son of a bitch,” Slocum said, “he’s shot so many men in the back he figures that’s what everyone else wants to do to him.”
“Cain’t say he’s far wrong.”
“Give me a horse,” Slocum said. “I’ll track him down.”
“He ain’t a threat now that we done killed all his boys. The ones what ain’t dead are gonna think twice ’bout crossin’ John Tewksbury.”
Slocum started to tell Tewksbury how wrong that was, as long as Cooper still lived. Most of the man’s gang still roamed through the Tonto Basin, maybe even holed up at the Blevins spread waiting to ambush Tewksbury and his men. Nothing would get through to the rancher right now. Slocum grabbed a sturdy horse, swung into the saddle and then caught the reins of another. By switching off, he would always have a fresh mount and eventually overtake Cooper, no matter how hard the man rode away.
He headed out to find Cooper’s trail and never looked back when he heard Lydia call his name.
18
Slocum zigzagged back and forth making sure that Cooper didn’t suddenly veer away from the path he had taken. Cooper had reacted quickly to Tewksbury’s attack, riding due west, but there was no hint that he was turning cagey. He was flat-out running for life. Slocum had to admit Cooper might have been a coward, but he wasn’t stupid.
As he rode, Slocum made sure his rifles were loaded. He wished he had taken the time to get more ammunition for his Colt, but it hadn’t occurred to him. Catching Cooper had been his only thought, and now such impetuosity might come back to haunt him. He had a pair of rifles, and those would have to do him.
The way he felt, he could take on Cooper with his bare hands and rip the man to shreds. From the spacing of the hoofprints, Slocum saw that Cooper’s horse had begun to falter as it worked up one of the rolling hills that dotted the Tonto Basin. Going more slowly, to be sure Cooper wasn’t on the ridge waiting to shoot him from ambush, wasted time. Slocum gritted his teeth, braced for a bullet and pressed on as fast as possible. Stopping Cooper was the only thing that mattered. When he reached the summit, he saw Cooper with his horse near a watering hole in the valley beyond. Judging from the lathered flanks and the way it wobbled on its legs, Cooper’s horse had run its race.
“Howdy, Cooper,” Slocum called, knowing the man wasn’t going to race off.
“Slocum!” Cooper’s hand flashed for his six-shooter. He drew and fired—or tried to. The hammer fell on an empty cylinder. Seeing he was out of ammo and, like Slocum, had not reloaded his sidearm, Cooper grabbed for the rifle sheathed at his saddle.
Slocum bided his time, drawing his rifle, levering in a fresh cartridge and taking careful aim. Cooper dragged his rifle out and frantically worked the cocking lever. Over and over he worked it. The expression on his face told Slocum the man was out of ammunition. All he had to do was pull back on his trigger and end Cooper’s miserable life.
“Walk away from the horse, Cooper,” Slocum ordered. He squeezed off a round that kicked up dirt between Cooper’s boots to get him moving.
Slocum rode forward slowly and then dismounted, never taking his eyes off Cooper.
“Tables are turned now,” Slocum said. “What should I do with you?”
“We don’t have any quarrel,” Cooper said, licking his lips and looking around like a trapped rabbit wanting to run off and hide. “Me and you, Slocum, we’re alike. Two peas in a pod. I remember that the law was lookin’ for you. We can work this out.”
“You shot my partner back in Texas. Shot him in the back.”
“I didn’t know he was your partner. Honest.” Cooper swallowed hard. “Who was he?”
“Hezekiah Clayton. You don’t even know his name. You know the names of the others you shot in the back?”
“You can’t gun me down in cold blood, Slocum. You’re not the kind.” Cooper blanched when he looked into Slocum’s eyes and saw the determination of the man he faced.
The sound of a horse approaching caused Slocum to glance away for a split second. This was all the time it took Cooper to go for a hideout gun in his vest pocket. He got it out and fired, but Slocum was moving fast. The slug went past him and buried itself in a tree trunk. Slocum ended up on his belly on the ground, his rifle pointed directly at Andy Cooper.
“No, no, Slocum. Look, I’m throwin’ away the derringer. I’m unarmed. You won’t shoot an unarmed man in cold blood!”
“You’re right,” said Slocum, and he got to work.
He stood by the pond, rifle resting in the crook of his arm as Mrs. Graham rode up. Her turquoise eyes flitted from Slocum to Cooper and back. She smiled.
“Glad to find you still breathing,” she said. She looked from Slocum to the oak tree behind him. Her eyes widened a little when she fully understood Cooper’s predicament. “You’ve been busy.”
Slocum glanced over his shoulder at Cooper astrid
e his exhausted horse. Cooper tried to cry out in fear but couldn’t. The noose cinched around his neck tightened every time his horse shifted under him to graze at the lush grass underfoot.
“You going to leave him like that?” the woman asked.
“He should have hung a long time back.”
“There’s a sheriff from over in Prescott with a posse who showed up at the ranch not an hour ago,” Mrs. Graham said. “It was a big posse. The governor has heard about all the trouble in the Basin and sent the sheriff to stop it.”
“Reckon losing a deputy was enough to get their attention,” Slocum said. “If they want to take Cooper in, they can.”
“If he doesn’t hang himself?”
“That’s right,” Slocum said. He climbed into the saddle.
“S-Slocum, don’t l-leave me like this,” Cooper pleaded. He choked when his horse moved beneath him. The horse eyed the pond and considered what it would be like to swallow some of the clear, cool water after getting its fill of grass. Cooper managed to use his knees to control the horse and keep it from wandering off. This time.
“You’re lucky I think so much of horses, Cooper,” Slocum said. “Otherwise, I’d set fire to its tail. Now, excuse me, if you will. I’ve got some cattle to round up and herd out of here.”
“You leaving the Basin?” asked Mrs. Graham. “Mind if I ride with you? If you’re herding very many cattle, you can use some help.”
“You know how?”
“Can’t be as hard as some of the things I’ve done.”
“Your husband?” Slocum asked. The woman pushed back the long canvas duster she wore and rested her hand on the butt of a pistol holstered at her hip.
“That wasn’t hard at all,” she said.
As they rode off together, Slocum said, “I’ve decided to drive the cattle south where I can get a decent price, maybe to Tucson. There’ll be Apaches along the way.” Going to Prescott with the law all riled up might not be a good idea. North meant running into what remained of Cooper’s gang. And heading east was out of the question. In that direction lay Tewksbury and the sheriff—and Lydia.
“That sounds like a good idea. Things might not be too hot in Tucson, other than the sun,” she said. “It’s been a lot more dangerous in the Tonto Basin lately.”
“It has,” Slocum allowed, looking sideways at her. She was a mighty fine-looking woman. “But I’ve got one question, if we’re going to be on the trail together.”
“Judith,” she said. “My first name’s Judith.”
Slocum nodded. It was going to be a good ride south.
Watch for
SLOCUM AND HOT LEAD
336th novel in the exciting SLOCUM series
from Jove
Coming in February!