The making of a lawman

by Edson, John Thomas

  Suddenly Cansole skidded to a turning halt, threw up his right hand Webley and fired. At the same moment Waco swerved, ducked down and flame licked out from his Colt

  163

  Cansole*s bullet missed and he heard the sound of Wacx)'s lead passing his head. Fast taken, while on the move, the youngster's bullet failed to connect by such a narrow margin that it served as a grim warning. It confirmed Cansole's judgement of his abihty. The outlaw knew that he must take no chances when dealing with so eflBcient a gun-fighter. However trickery might prevail where skill failed.

  Close by stood an empty house and Cansole headed towards it. Finding the door unfastened, he jerked it open. Turning, he threw another shot in Waco*s direction. Then he entered the building, closed the door behind him and backed off across the room. Halting at the opposite wall, he glanced at the square of the xmfinished window. The sound of approaching feet jerked his attention back to the door. Hearing the sound of the deputy trying the handle, he fired three shots, angling them to fan across the entrance. An agony-filled cry rang out from beyond the door, followed by the thud of a falling body. Satisfied that he had dealt widi the deputy, Cansole walked across to the window and kicked aside a plank blocking his way through it. Once outside, providing no other lawmen were close at hand, he could make his way into town, steal a horse and escape.

  Following Cansole, Waco approached the door with the intention of crashing through it. Then he remembered what Dusty told him and slowed down, stepping silently to the left. From there he reached around, gripping the handle as if meaning to thrust the door open.

  **That was real smart advice. Dusty,** he breathed as the bullets burst outwards throwing splinters before them. If he had been stood in the normal position to open the door, one or more of them would have torn into his body.

  Only the youngster did not waste time in idle self-congratulation. Letting out a screech like a man caught by a bullet, he flung himself backwards and lit down with a thud. That ought to convince Cansole there was no further danger, the youngster assumed and braced himself ready to charge into the building. The sound of the knocked-aside plank reached his ears and he darted along the front of the building and turned the comer. Ahead of him Cansole had already climbed through the window.

  "Cansole!" Waco yelled, sliding to a halt.

  The outlaw turned fast, gun bellowing as he came aroimd. However he moved too fast. Waco felt as if a hot iron sliced

  over his ribs, but did not let it prevent him cutting loose with both Colts, having drawn the left hand gun while roimding the building. Left, right, left, right, the tong-bar-relled Army Colts spat. Caught by the bullets, Cansole reeled and hurtled backwards. Ae Webleys dropped from his hands as he crashed to the ground. Any one of the four bullets would have killed him.

  '^You all right, boy?*' came the Kid's voice.

  **He nick^ me, but I'm still on my feet," Waco called back.

  Coming trp, the Kid looked anxiously at Waco, then to where Cansole lay unmoving on the ground.

  **You've done good. Go tell Dusty what's happened. I reckon I can tend to him now."

  ^TTeah," Waco replied and managed a faint grin. "I reckon you can."

  An hour later, the graze on his ribs stitched up and bandaged, Waco sat in the marshal's oflBce with the other deputies and listened to Stella Castle talk. Thoroughly scared and wanting to save her neck, the woman insisted on making a full confession.

  On hearing of Smith's capture, Cansole guessed that his orders regarding the loot had been carried out. Needing the money to pay me outlaws gathered for his big scheme, Can-sole knew he must try to rescue the prisoner. When the first try failed, he decided to handle the affair himself, particularly in the face of his men's opposition to making the next at-t«npt.

  Although Stella insisted she did not know where Cansole had obtained the nuns' clothing. Dusty believed she lied. It would never be proved that the man murdered the original mother superior and a novice. Their bodies, buried outside Newton, were never found.

  On arrival in Mulrooney, they went to the convent and took its occupants prisoner before being suspected. Using the well-Uked Sister Bridget as a hostage, they prevented the other nuns from trying to escape and managed to keep up appearances by having a few of them working outside. Trib-let came in to town on the buggy of a contact, hiding at the convent except when needed to meet somebody. It had been him who should have met Hill Thompson, but saw the outlaws leaving, smelled a rat and kept away from the brothel

  Fearing that Smith might feel neglected, Stella visited him and passed word through the bars of his cell window that Cansole was in town, preparing to free him. She directed a venomous glare at Waco while commenting on the scare he gave her.

  Due to various reasons, Cansole failed to take advantage of the Saturday night diversion created by the Brownton men. Instead of telling his boss about the proposed fight, Triblet stayed at the Buffalo Saloon to watch, then became involved in the after-fight riot. By the time he retiuned to the convent, it was too late for them to make a move.

  That morning when Triblet brought word that Dusty and the male deputies were out of town, with Big Sarah fully occupied in supervising the brawl at the Fair Lady, Cansole saw his chance. Dressed as a mm, he gained access to the marshal's oflBce and killed Pickle-Barrel, then freed Smith and brought him back to the convent. Although they planned to leave as soon as possible, Freddie's quick action prevented them from doing so. After seeing the searching of tiie empty buildings and noting that nobody gave the convent a second glance, Cansole decided to lie low there imtil an opportimity to escape presented itself.

  While delivering the baskets of food, Babsy and Ginger saw Triblet in the building. So they had to be taken captive and held. The rest the listening men all knew.

  "If that bastard Triblet had told us about Saturday!" she spat out. "Or come back earlier today instead of hanging around hoping to see those lousy bitches fighting—."

  "Only he didn't," Dusty told her. "Put her in a cell, Sarah."

  "Sister Bridget suggested that seeing's how she was all set at looking like a nun, she ought to learn to act like one, Cap'n," the woman deputy replied. "You know, like digging the garden they've had to neglect, painting, scrubbing floors.

  "Let her start in the morning," Dusty answered.

  "Itll be a pleasiure," Sarah grinned. "Come on, girlie and just give me one itsy-bitsy chance to stop you misbehaving."

  "Smith's ready to talk. Dusty," Mark said as the women left the room.

  "Leave the Wells Fargo boys to handle that part of it," Dusty replied. "I wonder what that big job was to be?"

  "Reckon that gal didn't know?" asked the Kid, for Stella disclaimed all knowledge of it when questioned.

  "I'm not siu-e," Dusty admitted. "Maybe after she's had

  Sister Bridget and Sarah looking to her for a spell, shell change her mind."

  The hope did not materialise. Whatever big robbery Can-sole planned, his death prevented it happening.

  "Stire is quiet and peaceful tonight," Mark commented, opening the front door. "I reckon TU be getting to bed."

  "I've got to go down and see Freddie," Dusty went on, for the lady saloon-keeper had gone to the Fair Lady as soon as she knew Waco was all right.

  Coming to his feet, Waco yawned as openly as he could. "Seeing's how I've done all the work tonight," he said, T allow I can go oflF—Reckon you boys can manage without me?"

  **We'll make sure youVe close to hand," Derringer assured him.

  Before the youngster could object, his friends descended on him, picked him up and carried him into the rear of the building. There they dimiped him in an empty cell and locked him inside.

  **Maybe comes morning youllVe learned to keep quiet,** the Kid said.

  "Anyways," Dusty went on. ^'Stopping to sleep in the cellos something else a lawman has to learn."

  Left alone, the youngster settled on the bunk and grinned up at the roof. They were sure a great bunch of fellers to
have for friends and they had taught him much of what it took to make a lawman.

  Louis L'Amour

  America's Fastest-Selling Western Writer

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