THE BOUNTY: Twentieth in a Series of Jess Williams Westerns (A Jess Williams Western Book 20)

by Robert J. Thomas

  The two of them rode about three miles past Jacksonville when the hair on the back of Jess’ neck started to tingle. When he turned around, he saw three riders heading their way at a full gallop.

  “Damn it,” exclaimed Jess. Jane saw him look behind them and when she turned in the saddle, she saw what he was looking at.

  “Do you think it’s those gunslingers the clerk warned you about?”

  “I’d bet money on it,” he told her. Jess looked ahead of them and saw a line of small hills about a mile away and he pointed to it. “Let’s get to those hills there and we can get some cover from the boulders at the base of them.”

  The two of them broke into a fast gallop, Gray and Sharps lengthening their strides with every yard. They quickly ate up the mile and when they reached the boulders at the bottom of the hillside, they jumped out of the saddle. Jess slid his buffalo rifle out along with his Winchester and the pouch of custom loaded cartridges for his Sharps. The two of them got behind a large boulder and Jess opened the leather pouch of cartridges and placed several of them on the open flap. He chambered a round into the buffalo rifle and raised the sights up. He checked the wind and waited until the three riders were about six hundred yards out. Jane racked a shell into her rifle and Jess gave her a funny look.

  “Are you going to use that thing this time?” he asked sarcastically. She gave him a look of trepidation.

  “I’m going to try,” she blustered. The three men all started firing rifles in their direction, but their bullets were kicking up dirt a good two hundred yards away from where they were.

  “Well, don’t fire until I do and when you do, wait until they’re within your rifle’s range,” explained Jess.

  Jess took careful aim at one of the men and slowly pulled back on the trigger until the buffalo rifle belched smoke and flame and a few seconds later, one of the men slid off his horse and tumbled on the ground until he lay stone still. Before the dead man stopped tumbling, Jess already had another cartridge chambered and he was aiming at a second man. He slowly squeezed back until the rifle barked loudly again and the second man flew straight backward off his horse, skidding to a stop in the dirt. The third man reined up his horse about three hundred yards out and then he quickly spun his horse around and headed away from them at a full gallop.

  “Oh no you don’t,” whispered Jess as he chambered another round into his buffalo rifle. The last man was a good four hundred yards out when Jess pulled back on the trigger and the buffalo rifle jerked violently. When Jess looked up from his rifle, he saw the man slump down onto his horse’s neck and then slide off to the right and tumble onto the ground. Jess placed his buffalo rifle on the boulder and grabbed his Winchester and headed for his horse.

  “You wait here while I go and check on them,” snapped Jess.

  Jess rode out to the first man at a slow gallop, his rifle held high in the air, his reins wrapped around his saddle horn. When he got to the first man, he saw that he was dead. He moved on to the second man, who was actually the last man he had shot and climbed out of the saddle. The man was lying on his back, both of his hands clutching his chest where the large caliber slug had exited. The man glared up at Jess.

  “You shot me in the back,” the man complained.

  “You should have turned around then,” snapped Jess. “Did you think I was just going to let you go so you could come back at me again?” The man grinned a little.

  “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking,” the man admitted.

  “Well, there you go then,” offered Jess. Jess looked over at the third man and saw his hands were moving around a little. The man’s rifle was out of reach, but his pistol was still in his holster.

  “Well, I gotta go and check on your other partner in crime,” said Jess.

  “You gonna just leave me here to bleed out slowly?” the man complained.

  “Not exactly,” replied Jess, as he lifted the rifle up and put another slug between the man’s eyes.

  He walked over to the last man and the man was trying to slip his hammer strap off, but the bullet hole in his right shoulder was causing him so much pain that he was having a hard time of it. When he got to the man, he pointed the rifle straight at the his face and he put his left boot on the man’s pistol, which was still in the holster.

  “No sense even trying that,” implied Jess.

  “How in the hell did you shoot me with that Winchester from that far off?” the man asked somewhat surprised. Jess smiled him.

  “I didn’t shoot you with this,” explained Jess. “I shot you with my Sharps buffalo rifle.”

  “Must be a damn big slug ‘cause it hurts like hell,” the man grimaced.

  “I suppose you were after the woman and the money?” Jess asked, although he was pretty sure of the answer already.

  “Yeah, it was Carl’s idea,” coughed the man. “He saw you two leaving town and said we should go after her for the twenty-five thousand. Who in the hell are you anyway?”

  “Why does that matter?”

  “I’d just like to know the name of the man who killed me?”

  “Why?”

  “Because when I get to hell, I can find out how many other men you’ve killed.”

  “Well, it’ll take you a while to find them all,” implied Jess, as he put another bullet between the man’s eyes, his head bouncing off the ground from the impact. Jess let out a long sigh and looked around the landscape. Then he took the time to go through each man’s pockets and saddlebags. He collected almost two hundred dollars and two bags of Arbuckle’s coffee. He climbed back up in the saddle and rode back to where Jane was still waiting. When he got there, he climbed down out of the saddle and had a peppermint stick in his mouth and one in his hand.

  “Do you want this peppermint stick?”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Lauter and Gilpin rode out of Jacksonville two hours before the sun came up. They rode straight south until they spotted a little sod house that was situated close to a small meandering river. There was a small barn behind the house and a privy about fifty feet from the side of the house. They dismounted about five hundred feet back and quietly walked their horses around to the back of the barn. Gilpin looked in the barn and saw two horses, one saddled up for a quick getaway.

  The sun was just peeking up over the east horizon and the faint glow of the sun colored the sky a beautiful pinkish-red color, but that was lost on Gilpin and Lauter. They quietly walked to the front of the house and they split up, one on each side of the little sod house, and waited.

  About a half hour later, they heard noises coming from inside and the door opened up and an older woman wearing a heavy robe walked out and headed straight for the privy and she didn’t notice either Lauter or Gilpin. Gilpin waited until she closed the door to the privy and he quietly walked over and waited outside. Gilpin slid his .44 Navy Colt out and when she came out of the privy, she was looking down the barrel of the .44. She let out a gasp and Gilpin put his right index finger up to his lips, telling her to be quiet. Gilpin moved to her right side and put the .44 up to her temple and then Lauter walked out from the other side of the house holding his twelve-gauge shotgun.

  “Anyone else in there coming out to use the privy,” Lauter called into the house. The door to the sod house flew open and an older potbellied, balding man came running out holding a rifle and Lauter pointed his shotgun straight at the man. When the man saw Gilpin holding a pistol to his wife’s temple, he laid the rifle on the front porch and put his hands up in the air.

  “You must be Uncle Harry?” asked Lauter.

  “That’s right, who in the hell are you two and what the hell do you want?”

  “We’s lookin’ for Rubin,” Lauter drawled smartly.

  “Rubin left two days ago,” said Harry. Lauter gave Harry a harsh look.

  “Do you always leave one of your horses saddled up all night?” Lauter asked sarcastically. Harry searched his brain for a quick answer and he looked over at his wife.

 
“Maude, didn’t I tell you to take the saddle off my horse yesterday?” said Harry as convincingly as he could. Gilpin pushed the barrel of his .44 a little harder against her temple and leered at her.

  “Now Maude, don’t you be tellin’ no lies, less I put a hole through your head,” warned Gilpin as he thumbed the hammer back. Maude shivered and jerked with each clicking sound the pistol made.

  “You never told me to do that,” she said in a broken voice. Harry’s head slouched a little.

  “I think Maude there is telling the truth, but you’re lying to me and that ain’t a good thing,” warned Lauter as he pulled one of his two Colt Peacemakers out and shot Harry in his left foot. Harry let out a loud howl of pain and started limping around on his right foot until he flopped down into one of the chairs on the small front porch.

  “Damn that hurts!” screamed Harry. Lauter cocked his pistol again and sneered at Harry roguishly.

  “If Rubin don’t come out of there, I’ll shoot you in the other foot,” threatened Lauter.

  “Alright, I’ll come out, but don’t hurt them no more,” a voice from inside the house said.

  “Git your ass out here Rubin!” hollered Lauter. Rubin slowly came walking out holding his hands up in the air.

  “Well, well, well, looky who was hiding in the house,” Lauter said to Gilpin, who was still holding his pistol against Maude’s temple. Gilpin walked behind Maude and shoved her toward the house.

  “Did Walt Mercer send you two after me?” Rubin asked nervously.

  “Well, at least he ain’t stupid,” exclaimed Gilpin, glancing at Lauter.

  “Mr. Mercer wants a few words with you,” clarified Lauter.

  “Why don’t I just tell you two what happened and you can tell Mr. Mercer yourselves?” Rubin asked nervously.

  “Well, let’s see…um…I guess it’s because we don’t really give two shits about what happened,” barked Lauter. “Now, go and get that horse you have saddled up and join us for a long ride back to Defiance to see Walt Mercer.” Rubin started to walk around the house to the small barn and Lauter glared at him.

  “Don’t do anything stupid, less you want to see Uncle Harry and Aunt Maude lying dead with holes in their heads,” warned Lauter. Rubin shuffled his feet and slowly walked back to the barn. Lauter glanced at his partner.

  “You gonna have a go at Maude before we leave?” he asked Gilpin. Gilpin looked at Maude, who was standing on the front porch by Harry. Fear washed over her face and Harry tried to stand up, an angry look on his face.

  “Now see here,” barked Harry. “There’s no need for any of that.”

  “Shut the hell up Uncle Harry,” snapped Gilpin. “She’s too damn old for me and besides, after smelling what she left in that privy, that’s enough to keep me away. What the hell did you eat woman, the ass end of a skunk?” Maude’s look of fear was quickly replaced by a hard look of indignation.

  “Well I never!” Maude exclaimed.

  “I can smell why,” chuckled Gilpin. Rubin came walking around the house leading the horse and Lauter gave him a menacing look.

  “I’m only goin’ to tell you one time,” growled Lauter. “You try anything at all and I swear we’ll come back here and kill both your family after we torture them for hours, understand?”

  “I understand,” said a deflated Rubin. Lauter waited while Gilpin went and retrieved their horses. When he came back with their horses, they mounted up along with Rubin. Lauter glared at Harry angrily.

  “Don’t make the mistake of trying to follow us,” warned Lauter. Gilpin glared at Rubin.

  “Well, lead the way Rubin,” demanded Gilpin. Rubin looked at Harry and Maude and forced a smile at them.

  “Sorry about the foot Uncle Harry,” said Rubin regretfully.

  “Don’t worry about it, it’ll heal up,” Harry said. “You be careful.”

  Rubin headed out followed by Lauter and Gilpin riding behind him. They rode about a mile from the house when Gilpin rode up next to Rubin. “Come on this way,” ordered Gilpin.

  “But Defiance is due north of here,” stammered Rubin.

  “Yeah, I know that, but we ain’t goin’ to Defiance,” sneered Gilpin. Rubin looked back at Lauter and he had his twelve-gauge pointed straight at Rubin.

  “You heard the man,” warned Lauter, swinging the shotgun in the direction that Gilpin had told him to go.” Rubin followed Gilpin off the trail about a quarter mile and Gilpin reined up his horse about a hundred yards from a rocky hillside. Gilpin climbed down from his horse and removed a small shovel from the back of his saddle. He looked up at Rubin, who had a confused look on his face.

  “Get down off your horse,” barked Gilpin.

  “Why, what about going to see Walt Mercer?” Rubin asked nervously.

  “Mercer doesn’t want to talk to you,” implied Gilpin flatly. “As a matter-of-fact, he doesn’t want you talking to anyone.” Rubin slowly climbed out of the saddle and stood there holding the reins to his horse. Gilpin walked over to him and shoved the little shovel against his chest.

  “Pick a spot and start digging,” demanded Gilpin, a strange look on his face.

  “Why?”

  “You’ve just been promoted to gravedigger,” leered Gilpin. “And just so you know, the grave ain’t for me or Lauter there.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Jess and Jane climbed back up in the saddle after Jane refused the peppermint stick. They rode south again and Jane was silent for about an hour and then she started to sob quietly. Jess reined up and looked at her.

  “What’s wrong?” Jess asked diplomatically. Jane shook her head and wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

  “How many more men are going to die because of me?”

  “Well, near as I can tell, every one that comes after you,” explained Jess flatly.

  “I don’t think I can take any more of this senseless violence and death,” she sobbed. Jess gave her a stern look.

  “I don’t think you have much of a choice in the matter unless you decide to ride back to defiance and hand yourself over to Mercer,” he explained. “And, how many more men will I have to kill along the way?”

  “What if I turn myself into those two bounty hunters who left Jacksonville this morning?”

  “I can’t let you do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Two reasons,” said Jess. “First, they plan on raping you before they take you back to Mercer and second, they’ll have to fight off any other men who are looking for you for the bounty on your head. Hell, for twenty-five thousand dollars, every gunslinger and bounty hunter is looking for you. I’m telling you, the safest place for you to be is with me.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” sniffled Jane, wiping her eyes again. She looked at Jess, but Jess wasn’t looking at her now. Instead, he pulled his spyglass out, extended it, peered through it and frowned.

  “What do you see?”

  “Looks like three men.”

  “Is it those bounty hunters?”

  “I can’t tell from this distance, but one of them is digging a hole.”

  “What the hell for?” Jess put the spyglass away and grinned at Jane.

  “My guess would be a shallow grave,” said Jess ominously. He looked at the rocky hill that went along the trail for a good mile or so. “Let’s ride around that side of the hill and get a better look.”

  The two of them rode around to the back of the rocky ridge and about halfway along the ridge before turning their horses up the sloping hillside until it got too steep for the horses to climb any further. They climbed down from the saddle and Jess slid his buffalo rifle out along with the pouch of cartridges for it. Jane slid her rifle out and the two of them started climbing up the rocky hillside.

  ***

  Back down on the other side of the hill, Lauter was rolling himself a smoke and Gilpin was watching Rubin as he slowly dug his own grave.

  “I know you’re stalling on digging that hole, Rubin,” growled Gilpin.

&nb
sp; “Wouldn’t you?” Rubin snapped back. Gilpin laughed a little.

  “I suppose I would at that,” admitted Gilpin. “But nobody is gonna save you out here, so stalling ain’t gonna make much of a difference.”

  “Why is Walt Mercer doing this?” asked Rubin. “Doesn’t he want to know what really happened to Jethro?”

  “Not really,” replied Gilpin. “He’s made his mind up that Jane Lacey killed his son and that’s the end of it.”

  “She killed him in self-defense,” muttered Rubin, throwing another shovel of dirt out of the hole. “Jethro was going to kill her to keep her quiet.”

  “Why tell me?” demanded Gilpin. “I don’t give two shit’s about what happened. Now keep diggin’, it’s gettin’ hot out here.”

  “How much are you two getting paid for this?” asked Rubin, still trying to stall for time, although he didn’t know why, no one was going to rescue him from his fate.

  “We’s each gettin’ five thousand dollars to make sure you disappear for good,” answered Gilpin with an evil smile.

  “That sure is a lot of money,” admitted Rubin. Lauter finished rolling his cigarette and lit it.

  “Why don’t the two of you quit your yapping and let him dig,” snapped Lauter. Gilpin glanced at his partner.

  “He knows he’s about to eat a bullet so let the man yap a little,” argued Gilpin. “It’s the least we can do for the sorry sumbitch.”

  “Well hurry it up, I’m getting hungry,” barked Lauter.

  ***

  Jess and Jane finally reached the top of the ridge. Jess pulled his spyglass out and peered down at the three men and sighed.

  “It’s Lauter and Gilpin down there with another man who’s digging a shallow grave,” he told her quietly as he handed her the spyglass. “Is that Rubin Fisher doing the digging?” She looked through the spyglass and nodded.