* * *
* * *
Palmer considered trying to ride away from Briggs and Chad Green with his hands tied behind his back, but he knew he’d end up falling off the gelding. He was going to have to make a move while his hands were untied, and that was only when they were camped and ready to eat.
He knew they wouldn’t get to Laramie before dark, so they were going to have to make camp. If Brickhill didn’t catch up, Palmer would have to get away from only Briggs and Green, either while they were eating their supper or breakfast.
“We’re gonna camp here,” Briggs called out. “Chad, get him off his horse and tied down.”
“Right.”
Briggs turned in his saddle before dismounting and looked behind them. He didn’t see any sign of Brickhill.
“He’ll catch up, Rusty,” Green said, helping Palmer off his horse.
“Yeah, he will,” Briggs said.
* * *
* * *
It was starting to get dark when Brickhill caught the scent of coffee. He moved cautiously, as he figured the others would have been much farther ahead of him than this. When he spotted the campfire, he assumed it wasn’t them.
He dismounted and tied his horse to a tree, then began to move on foot toward the camp. It was now dark, and his intention had been to continue to ride despite that, taking all precautions. He would have stopped eventually to camp, but he wanted to get a few more miles under him so that he would be sure to catch up to the others the next afternoon.
But now he crept forward, keeping as quiet as possible. If he saw Briggs and Chad Green at the fire, then it would be clear something had happened to slow them down. At that time he’d fetch his horse and join them. But if there were strangers in camp, he was going to watch and listen before deciding to reveal himself. Maybe they’d have some bacon and invite him to eat with them.
When he came within sight of the camp, he crouched behind some bushes and watched. He saw three men, but not the three he was looking for.
He decided to get closer so he could hear their conversation. . . .
* * *
* * *
Atlee, Wade, and Jeff were sitting around the fire, drinking coffee. They still had only beef jerky to eat.
“If we’re gonna keep at this,” the deputy said, “we’re gonna need supplies.”
“We can stop at the next town,” Wade said. “We won’t need much. We can’t weight ourselves down if we’re gonna catch up to them.”
“I still wish we knew who we were catching up with and why,” Atlee said.
“You’re doin’ your job, Deputy,” Wade said. “You should be happy with that.”
Atlee looked at Jeff, saw that the boy was looking into the fire.
“I’ll bet your pa told you not to do that,” he said.
“Do what?” Jeff asked.
“Stare into the fire,” Atlee said. “You’re ruinin’ your night vision.”
“Oh, yeah . . .” Jeff said. “Sorry. Are we gonna stand watch?”
“Probably a good idea,” Atlee said. “I’ll go first, then wake Wade, and then he’ll wake you. Now get some sleep. Hopefully, we’ll catch up to your pa tomorrow.”
“Fine.”
Jeff rolled himself up in his blanket and fell asleep.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Brickhill caught up to Briggs, Green, and the marshal at noon the next day.
Briggs heard the horse behind them and reined in to turn and look.
“It’s Brick,” Chad Green called out.
With Brickhill out of the camp, Briggs had left Palmer’s hands tied when he woke up. Palmer had never had a chance to make a move.
“What’d you find out?” Briggs asked when Brickhill caught up.
“Nothin’ in Casper,” Brickhill said, “but I found out some things on the way back.”
“Like what?”
“Like there are three men tracking us,” Brickhill said. “A deputy, a kid, and one other man.”
“A posse?” Briggs said. “Why?”
“Not a posse,” Brickhill said. “Apparently, the kid is Palmer’s.”
“He has a son?”
“That’s what it looks like,” Brickhill said. “And they’re gonna try to get him back. I had to ride all night to make sure I got here with enough time. I’m gonna say they’re about six hours behind us.”
“Okay,” Briggs said, “that gives us time to come up with a plan.”
“Why don’t we just outrun ’em?” Chad Green asked.
“We probably could if we weren’t draggin’ him along,” Briggs said, indicating Palmer.
“Then maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” Brickhill said.
“No,” Briggs said, “it’s easy money. All we gotta do is get rid of this deputy and whoever’s ridin’ with him.”
“And the kid,” Green said.
Briggs looked at him.
“Maybe I’ll leave the kid to you, Chad,” he said. “You should be able to handle ’im.”
“Whataya wanna do, Rusty?” Brickhill asked.
“Let’s keep ridin’ until we find a likely spot for an ambush,” Briggs said. “Once we take care of ’em, we only gotta collect the reward.”
Listening to them plan an ambush of Jeff, Steve Atlee, and a third man Palmer could only assume was Wade, he strained against his ropes to no avail. He had to find some way to get loose, or else he’d have to watch Jeff and the others be killed—and all because of his outlaw past.
* * *
* * *
Jeff woke Atlee and Wade the next morning and they all had some coffee to warm themselves before they started out.
“How was everythin’ last night?” Atlee asked Jeff.
“Well,” Jeff said, “I didn’t see anythin’, but . . .”
“But what?” Atlee asked.
“I just had a funny feelin’, like somebody was out there . . . watchin’ us.”
Atlee looked at Wade.
“How about you?”
“Now that you mention it,” Wade said, “I did get that feelin’ last night, but not durin’ my watch.”
“The same with me,” Jeff said. “It was last night, not early this mornin’.”
“Well,” Atlee said, “we could go and have a look through the brush, see if there’s any indication that someone was there watchin’ us.”
“Then we’ll lose the ground we’ve been makin’ up on them, won’t we?” Jeff asked.
“The boy’s right,” Wade said. “We should keep movin’.”
“Okay,” Atlee said, “but if they sent somebody to watch their back trail and he spotted us, then they know we’re comin’. We’ll have to be extra careful the rest of the way.”
“It’s odd . . .” Jeff said.
“What is?” Atlee asked.
“How sometimes you can just feel when somebody is watchin’ you.”
“Your pa would say you had good instincts, Jeff,” Wade said. “And at this point, I’d say I’d agree with him.”
* * *
* * *
About ten miles outside of Laramie, Rusty Briggs held up his hand.
“Here,” he said. “This is a good place for an ambush. We can wait on either side for them to come around this bend.”
Palmer looked around. There was plenty of cover, rocks and trees, for Briggs and his men to make an effective ambush.
“You don’t have to kill them,” Palmer said.
The three outlaws looked at him.
“Then how would you suggest we get them off our trail?” Briggs asked.
“That’s easy,” Palmer said. “Let me talk to them.”
“And tell them what?”
“I’ll tell them that I came with you willingly. That there’s no sense in them follo
wing us any farther.”
“And I suppose they’d believe that, huh?” Brickhill asked.
“I’ll make them believe it,” Palmer said.
“And we’re supposed to believe you’d do that,” Briggs said. “Why?”
“Because I don’t want to be the reason they’re all killed,” Palmer explained.
“And the boy with them,” Johnny Brickhill said. “Is he your son?”
“It’s . . . complicated,” Palmer said. “He was rescued from the Sioux, and I sort of . . . adopted him.”
“And one’s your deputy,” Brickhill said. “Who’s the third man?”
“I can’t know for sure,” Palmer answered, “but I’d guess it’s a friend of mine named Wade. He’s a bartender at the Palomino Saloon.”
Briggs looked at Brickhill and Green.
“One deputy with a bartender and a boy,” he said, a wolfish grin on his face. “They’re gonna be real easy pickin’s.”
“Now wait—”
“You’ll be trussed up and gagged,” Briggs told him, cutting him off, “and set up so you can watch the whole thing.” He looked at his men. “If they’re six hours behind us, they’ll still be here while it’s light. Let’s get set up.”
* * *
* * *
Looks like they’re headin’ for Laramie,” Steve Atlee said, pointing ahead.
“If we could get to a town with a telegraph,” Wade said, “we could send word ahead to the law there.”
“The only problem is,” Atlee said, “we still don’t know for sure that the marshal is bein’ held against his will.”
“He is!” Jeff said.
“The deputy’s right, Jeff,” Wade said. “We can’t tell the law in Laramie that, for sure.”
“Plus finding a town with a telegraph would delay us and put them farther ahead. What if we sent a telegram to Laramie after they were already there and gone?”
“So we just keep goin’?” Wade asked.
“Yes!” Jeff said.
Both Atlee and Wade smiled at the sound of the boy’s relief.
* * *
* * *
Briggs tied Palmer firmly to a tree and gagged him, then Briggs and Green took up positions on both sides of the road. Briggs then sent Brickhill back a mile to keep watch.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Brickhill spotted the three men approaching and rode at a gallop back to the ambush point.
“They’re comin’,” he told Briggs.
“It’s about time,” Briggs said. “It’s gonna be dark in an hour. Let’s get this done!”
Palmer’s frustration was mounting. His heart was racing and he was sweating despite the cold. Rusty Briggs himself had tied Palmer up and had three times come over to check and make sure he was still secure.
Palmer had no choice but to sit there and watch the whole thing unfold.
* * *
* * *
Wait,” Jeff called out.
Atlee and Wade both reined in and turned to look at the boy, who was studying the ground.
“What is it?”
“There are tracks here that’ve been left recently.”
“How recent?” Atlee asked.
“Less than an hour, I’d say,” Jeff answered.
“How can you tell?” Wade asked.
“Fresh tracks are fresh tracks, Wade,” Jeff said. “My pa would say a breeze hasn’t even disturbed these yet.”
“These could’ve been left by the same man we think was watchin’ us in camp,” Atlee said. “If he’s ridin’ just ahead of us, then he can warn them that we’re comin’.”
“Warn who?” Wade asked.
“That’s the question,” Atlee said. “All we know is it could be those three strangers from town.”
“Unless it was somebody else who took the marshal,” Wade said.
“If he was taken,” Atlee said.
“Don’t start that again,” Jeff said. “He was taken, and he’s just ahead of us with whoever took ’im.”
“Right,” Atlee said.
“So if they’re waitin’ for us,” Wade said, “what do we do?”
“Simple,” Atlee said. “We make them keep waitin’.”
* * *
* * *
It was starting to get dark and Rusty Briggs was getting impatient. He had Brickhill stationed on the same side of the road as him and Chad Green on the other side. Now he left his position and went over to where Brickhill was crouched.
“So where are they?” he asked.
“They shoulda been here by now.”
“Well, get to higher ground and take a look,” Briggs said. “Chad and me, we’ll stay in place.”
“I could run smack into them—”
“If you do,” Briggs said, “you better start shootin’.”
Briggs turned to go back to his position. Brickhill started off on foot, seeking higher ground from where he could get a good look behind them.
* * *
* * *
Atlee and Wade were riding slowly, now following the fresh trail rather than the older one.
“You think we did the right thing with the kid?” Wade asked.
“He did live with the Sioux for six months,” Atlee said. “He learned some things.”
“Whoa,” Wade said, looking ahead.
“What is it?”
“I thought I saw someone,” the bartender said.
“Where?”
“On that bluff,” Wade said, pointing with his chin. “It was quick, but . . .”
They both stared ahead, saw nothing.
“Let’s go easy, Wade,” Atlee said. “We may be gettin’ closer.”
“Yeah, but why?” Wade asked.
“What?”
“Why are we gettin’ closer?” Wade said. “We’re ridin’ slower, so . . .”
“So they may be waitin’ for us.”
Wade nodded.
“I hope the kid’s gonna be okay,” he said.
* * *
* * *
Brickhill came running back to Briggs.
“They’re comin’,” he said.
Briggs turned and looked at the trussed-up Palmer.
“Hear that?” Briggs said. “Make sure you watch closely.”
Palmer struggled, but he was tied tight.
“Get back in place,” Briggs told Brickhill.
“Right.”
“And don’t fire until I do.”
Brickhill heard him, but Chad Green didn’t.
* * *
* * *
Both Wade and Atlee kept their eyes on the bluff, but never saw anyone. They kept their eyes on it anyway as they passed, and then followed the bend in the road. . . .
* * *
* * *
Chad Green saw the riders coming around the bend, aimed his rifle, and fired.
Across the way Briggs shouted, “Damn it!” as he wanted to let them get closer. Now he had no choice. He stood up, aimed, and fired as he stepped out from cover.
Briggs heard the two shots, saw one of the riders get knocked from his saddle.
* * *
* * *
Chad Green’s bullet hit Wade in the shoulder, knocking him from his horse. The animal reared, came down, and struck the bartender in the head. The metal horseshoe crushed the man’s skull.
The second shot whizzed past Atlee as he looked to see where the shots were coming from. He saw the three men stepping from cover, their rifles coming to bear on him. . . .
* * *
* * *
Palmer saw Wade fall from his horse, watched as Deputy Atlee froze in his saddle. Then he felt something behind him.
“I’m here, Pa,” Jeff said. “I’ll cut you loose.”
&nb
sp; The boy used his knife to cut the ropes, then removed the gag.
“Do you have a gun?” Palmer asked.
Jeff handed Palmer a rifle, then showed him the pistol in his other hand.
“All right, boy,” Palmer said. “Let’s go.”
Palmer’s legs failed him the first time he tried to get up, so Jeff helped him to his feet. They both looked in the direction the shots were coming from.
Palmer had taken his eyes off of Atlee, so he didn’t see the deputy leap from his saddle to the ground as the three outlaws began to fire at him. At least one bullet struck his horse, and the animal crumpled to the ground.
As Palmer watched, Atlee scrambled across the ground and took cover behind the fallen horse.
The three outlaws began to advance on him, still unaware that Palmer was loose.
Atlee fired several times, and Chad Green spun on his heels as one bullet struck him.
“Briggs!” Palmer shouted.
As Briggs turned to look at him, both Palmer and Jeff fired their weapons. Both their bullets struck Briggs in the chest, knocking him back on his heels and then down onto his back.
Brickhill turned to see who had shot Briggs, saw Palmer and the boy advancing on him. He then looked behind him, saw the deputy rise and start walking toward him in the dying light.
“It’s over, Brick,” Palmer called out.
“This wasn’t my idea, Tom,” Brickhill said, his gun still in his hand.
“Just drop the gun,” Palmer commanded.
“I can’t,” Brickhill said. He looked back at the deputy again. “Why don’t you just let me go, and your deputy doesn’t have to hear any of your history? Whataya say?”
Palmer raised his rifle. Brickhill looked shocked, started to raise his pistol, but Palmer shot him in the chest before he could bring it to bear.
Atlee checked the bodies of Briggs and Chad Green, saw they were dead, and continued on to where Brickhill was lying.
The Wrong Side of the Law Page 21