“Well,” shrugged Lundy. “Anything I can do …”
“No, thanks,” said Jim. “There’s nothing you can do— and that’s putting it mild. We won’t even need a confession from you—because Larkin’s confession covers everything.”
Lundy’s eyes narrowed. His voice shook a little, as he began blustering.
“Larkin—confession? What’re you talkin’ about …?”
“Larkin’s in the Drago calaboose, laid up with a couple of gunshot wounds,” Jim told him, “and talking his head off.”
“Ah, si,” leered Benito. “He talks en voz alta, this Señor Larkin.”
“And you won’t need to alibi for Trantor or Yuill,” said Jim. “They were buried at Fort Gearey, and I don’t mean with military honors. The payroll is right where it ought to be—burning holes in the pockets of the Fourth Territorial Infantry.”
“Trantor and Yuill—dead?” blinked Lundy.
“To bury them alive would not be polite,” sniggered Benito.
“You’ll be taking a little trip real soon, Lundy,” announced Jim. “A deputy U.S. marshal will collect you sometime today. Until then, you can wait in your own jail.” He nodded to the Mex. “Fetch his key ring.”
Lundy’s round face was livid with rage and frustration. He watched the Mex dawdling insolently to the gunrack, from a peg of which hung his key ring. And then, losing control of himself, he bunched his right fist and attempted to strike at Jim. Jim parried the clumsy blow and, hard and fast, sent his own bunched right slamming into that massive belly. The color drained from Lundy’s face. He made a gasping sound, clasped at his midriff and began sagging forward. Jim relieved him of his gunbelt and, after Benito had unlocked the cell block, marched him in there with one arm doubled behind his back.
Within the hour, thanks to the busy tongue of Jim’s small sidekick, a great many locals were aware of Lundy’s arrest and the deaths of Trantor and Yuill. Included among these was an apprehensive Joanna Gifford. It took that mercenary redhead only a few moments to decide that she had naught to gain and plenty to lose by awaiting the coming of a Federal lawman, so she packed her grips, rented a rig and, by ten-thirty, was on her way north to the Lewisburg railhead.
Taking their ease on the porch of Lundy’s office, Jim and the Mex patiently awaited the coming of Deputy Atwater. For the big man, this had been yet another interruption, another side issue, another emergency to be handled during his long search for the elusive Jenner. It was over now, and he could relax and consider his next move.
“We go?” The Mex enquired. “As soon as the Rurale comes, we go?”
“For sure,” nodded Jim.
“Which way this time?” asked Benito.
“North again,” Jim decided. “I’ll go on asking questions, showing Jenner’s picture here and there—until I get another lead on him.”
This, he reflected, would be the pattern of his existence for some time to come.
BIG JIM 7: NO ESCAPE TRAIL
By Marshall Grover
First Published by The Cleveland Publishing Pty Ltd
Copyright © Cleveland Publishing Co. Pty Ltd, New South Wales, Australia
First Smashwords Edition: November 2017
Names, characters and incidents in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information or storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.
This is a Piccadilly Publishing Book
Series Editor: Lesley Bridges
Text © Piccadilly Publishing
Published by Arrangement with The Cleveland Publishing Pty Ltd.
About the Author
Leonard Frank Meares
(February 13, 1921 - February 4, 1993)
Sydney born Len Meares aka Marshall Grover, published around 750 novels, mostly westerns. His best-known works feature Texas trouble-shooters Larry and Stretch. Before starting to write, Meares served in the Royal Australian Air Force, worked in the Department of Immigration and sold shoes. In the mid-1950s he bought a typewriter to write radio and film scripts. Inspired by the success of local paperback westerns, he wrote Trouble Town, which was published by the Cleveland Publishing Company in 1955.
His tenth yarn, Drift! (1956), introduced Larry Valentine and Stretch Emerson. In 1960, he created a brief but memorable series of westerns set in and around the town of Bleak Creek. Four years later came The Night McLennan Died, the first of more than 70 westerns (sometimes called oaters) to feature cavalryman-turned-manhunter Big Jim Rand.
More on Marshall Grover
The Big Jim Series by Marshall Grover
The Night McLennan Died
Meet Me in Moredo
Gun Trapped
Gun Sinister
One Man Jury
Killer’s Noon
No Escape Trail
… And more to come every other month!
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Big Jim 7 Page 13