The Winchester Run

Home > Other > The Winchester Run > Page 15
The Winchester Run Page 15

by Ralph Compton


  “It’s . . . not . . . the talk,” Mac wheezed. “It’s that . . . damn rotgut . . . whiskey. More water . . .”

  Trinity brought him another cup of water.

  “How are . . . you getting water?” Mac asked.

  “By opening the door just enough to set a pot or pail out there,” said Red. “It’s been raining for three days and nights, like pourin’ it out of a boot.”

  “Bring me . . . my Colt,” Mac said.

  Trinity started to say something, but her eyes met Red’s, and she changed her mind. Red brought the weapon and Mac took it.

  “All of you . . . keep your guns ready,” said Mac. “There’s no use . . . fooling ourselves. I believe this bunch has . . . no . . . intention of us leaving . . . here . . . alive. I just wish . . . I’d been . . . savvy enough to consider that, before . . .”

  “We needed shelter,” Red said, “and there was nothing else. Just this cabin. So I’m as much to blame as you are, if anybody’s to be blamed.”

  But Mac hadn’t heard, for he was again asleep, the Colt gripped in his right hand.

  “He’s one bueno hombre,” said Port Guthrie.

  “Water,” a weak voice cried from the other side of the room.

  “Buck,” Red shouted joyously.

  Quickly Rachel brought a tin cup of water, and so eager was Buck that he strangled. It cost him, in his condition, but he emptied the cup three more times before he was satisfied.

  “God,” he croaked, “I feel . . . like . . . my gullet’s been . . . salted . . . with gunpowder . . . and set afire. More . . . water . . .”

  Rachel brought more water, and gathering his strength, Buck spoke again.

  “Red, I . . . heard what you . . . told Mac. Bring me . . . my gun . . .”

  “Buck,” said Red, “you took two slugs. You’re in no shape . . .”

  “I’ll be the . . . judge of . . . that,” Buck growled. “Now bring me . . . my damn . . . gun . . .”

  Without another word, Red brought the Colt and gave it to Buck.

  “Red . . .”

  Haze Sanderson’s eyes were open. He tried to speak again, but his voice was raspy, a dry croak. Without a word, Elizabeth brought a tin cup of water, and Haze drank it gratefully. Again he tried to speak.

  “More . . . please . . .”

  His thirst satisfied, he again spoke to Red.

  “I . . . I’ve . . . been listening, Red. Bring me . . . my . . . Colt.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes met Red’s in silent appeal, but he didn’t hesitate. He took the Colt from its holster and handed it to Haze. The wounded man then closed his eyes as though in sleep, the weapon gripped in his hand. The gesture wasn’t lost on the teamsters. They grinned in appreciation and Port Guthrie spoke for them.

  “More and more, I’m gettin’ the feelin’ we’ll come out of this alive.”

  Sometime during the night, the rain ceased. But the wind still screeched around the cabin like a live thing, and the dawn broke gray and dismal.

  “By God,” said Gourd Snively, who had eased the door open a little, “looky yonder.”

  The four horses had remained near the cabin, and grazing with them were a dozen of the all-important mules.

  “That means we only got to find twelve of the varmints,” Saul Estrella said, “and God only knows where they are.”

  “Saul,” said Guthrie, “I reckon it’s time we went looking for the missing ones. It’ll be you, Emmett, Gourd, and me. Smokey, you and Lafe bein’ wounded, I want you to stay here and help defend the cabin. Red, does that suit you?”

  “I reckon,” Red replied. “It’s the only sensible thing to do. You gents ride careful. If that bunch is determined to gun us down, they’ll start with you four, once you’re away from the cabin.”

  “One more day,” said Mac, who was stronger, “and I’ll be on my feet. We must find those missing mules and, as soon as the sun dries up the mud, be on our way.”

  “There’s nothin’ I’d like better than gettin’ out of here,” Red said, “but the way these varmints has been gunnin’ for us, you really think they’ll allow us to leave?”

  “I don’t know,” said Mac. “Everything points to there being something here that they want, something for which they’ve returned, and they’re behaving like they believe we might have found it.”

  “Then damn it, let’s find whatever it is,” Red said. “It’s got to be in this front room. Maybe it’s under the hearth.”

  “That’s too obvious,” said Mac. “Did you ever hear of anything hidden in a house that wasn’t under one of the hearthstones?”

  “If it’s so obvious, perhaps that’s all the more reason to look there,” Hattie said. “Why don’t we begin there, and spend the day looking?”

  “The rest of you can do that,” said Red. “Now that the storm’s blown itself out, I’ll keep watch outside the door. The horses and mules are out there, and those loaded wagons, as well. The freight on those wagons is worth ten times whatever those hombres are looking for.”

  A dozen miles away, under a shelving rock, four men sat around their breakfast fire. There were the brothers, Eldon and Ebeau Darrow, Keno Norris, and Antoine Burke. Their bearded faces still retained a prison pallor, and every man’s temper was on a short rein.

  “Just don’t fergit,” Ebeau said, “me an’ Eldon’s bossin’ this outfit.”

  “How could we ever forget?” Keno Norris snapped. “It was you varmints that killed Ab Winkler before he told us where he hid the twenty-five thousand we took from that bank in Wichita.”

  “The double-crossin’ bastard took the money an’ run out on us,” said Eldon. “We got no reason to believe the money’s anywhere but in that cabin.”

  “Hell,” Antoine said, “when we caught up to Winkler, the posse wasn’t more’n a mile behind us. We should of took Winkler with us, lost the posse, an’ then worked our way back to the cabin. But you damned Darrows wanted Winkler dead so bad, it cost us the bank loot an’ near two years in jail.”

  “Winkler had his Colt out and would of kilt Ebeau,” said Eldon, “if I hadn’t shot him quick. I didn’t know the posse was that close.”

  “I reckon that’s all water down the creek,” Keno Norris said. “I got another crow to pick with you Darrow varmints. Somethin’ more recent. It was you Darrows that was hell-bent on gunnin’ down that bunch that’s squattin’ in the cabin. By God, if we’d just left ’em alone, they’d have moved on after the storm. Unless they’re a bunch of damn fools, after all the lead we’ve throwed at ’em, they’ve likely decided they’re settin’ on somethin’ mighty valuable.”

  “Yeah,” said Burke, “an’ thanks to the Darrows, they got plenty of time for a search. They ain’t about to go nowhere with wounded men. Hell, they’ll likely be squattin’ there for another week.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” Ebeau said. “Some of ’em will have to go searchin’ for their mules. That means them that ain’t been wounded will be away from the cabin. There’ll be just the wounded hombres an’ the women. I say we bust in there, finish what we started with the wounded men, and take the women hostage. When them mule hunters come back, we’ll be waitin’ for ’em.”

  “Maybe some of them hombres in the cabin ain’t been wounded as bad as you think,” said Keno Norris. “We could go waltzin’ in there and git shot to doll rags.”

  Ebeau laughed. “You scared, Keno?”

  “Yeah,” Keno said. “I’m scared of you Darrows with your damn fast guns. You shot Winkler, cost us twenty-five thousand, and now you’ve as good as told that bunch in the cabin there’s somethin’ in there worth killin’ for.”

  “Saddle up,” said Eldon Darrow. “We’re goin’ to clear out that cabin, just as soon as some of them hombres are out of the way. We know five, maybe six of ’em, was hit, and they won’t be in no shape to fight.”

  “And you aim to go chargin’ in there with guns blazing,” Keno said.

  “Yeah,” said Darrow, “and when the others com
e back, we’ll cut ’em down from the cabin.”

  “You damn Darrows is too kill-crazy to suit me,” Antoine Burke said. “I ain’t gonna be a party to such a fool scheme. I say we wait on that bunch to leave the cabin and then do our searchin’ in peace.”

  “I’m of the same mind,” said Keno Norris. “Robbin’ banks is one thing, but leavin’ a trail of dead men is the way, quick and sure, to find yourself at the business end of a hangman’s rope.”

  “You don’t aim to help us bust into that cabin,” Ebeau said, “but you still aim to git a share of the twenty-five thousand that’s hid there.”

  “Why not?” Keno said. “I spent near two years in the juzgado for it.”

  “Damn right,” said Antoine. “It was a Darrow slug that killed Winkler and landed us all behind bars. I ain’t takin’ a rap for any more Darrow killing. The storm’s over, and I’m waitin’ for that bunch in the cabin to move on. Then we’ll take it apart one log at a time, if we have to.”

  “Well, by God, Ebeau an’ me’s goin’ back there and takin’ it apart one log at a time, right now,” Eldon said. “You don’t ride with us, then you don’t share the money.”

  Keno and Antoine reached for their Colts, but the Darrows had been expecting just such a move. With a fiendish light in their hard eyes, Eldon and Ebeau Darrow drew their revolvers and shot dead their companions with whom they had long ridden the owl-hoot trail. Leaving the dead men where they lay, the Darrows saddled their horses and rode to a ridge overlooking the cabin. They reined up within a thicket in time to see Port Guthrie, Emmett Budd, Gourd Snively, and Saul Estrella mount mules and ride away.

  “That’s the ones that wasn’t hurt in the shootin’,” Eldon Darrow said. “That leaves us with the wounded men and the women.”

  “Them that just rode away is still close enough to hear the shootin’,” said Ebeau.

  “Hell,” Eldon said, “that’s what we want. Let ’em come skalley-hootin’ back here, and we’ll git shut of the whole bunch. ’Cept the women, of course.”

  “Let’s git on with it, then,” said Ebeau. “You circle around an’ come in from the west and I’ll come in from the east. We’ll meet outside the cabin door and bust in together.”

  When Port Guthrie and the teamsters had ridden away, Red McLean had been called to breakfast.

  “I ought to be eatin’ out there on the stoop,” Red said. “Hostile as that bunch of owl hoots has been, I can’t believe they won’t try somethin’, now that the storm’s passed and we’re four men shy.”

  “Not much they can do,” said Mac, “unless they bust in here with their guns blasting. All of you move back, and stay out of line with the door. It’s not that strong, and a slug from a Winchester can penetrate it.”

  Mac sat up, his feet on the floor, his Colt within reach. Haze Sanderson assumed the same position, and while Buck wasn’t quite up to such movement, he had his Colt in his hand. Hattie was kneeling by the fireplace, readying a fresh pot of coffee. Trinity, Rachel, and Elizabeth had lighted candles and were searching the walls for a loose section of log or some other possible place of concealment. Suddenly the door slammed open and in the hand of each of the Darrows was a Colt spitting lead . . .

  * A Chinook word meaning devil or evil spirit.

  CHAPTER 10

  When the Darrows crashed the door, Hattie was the only one in line with it. One slug wrecked the coffeepot while a second struck the girl’s right thigh. The force of it threw her sideways on the floor, saving her life. Mac’s Colt was like rolling thunder, and three slugs ripped into Eldon Darrow. Red shot Ebeau Darrow twice, and the outlaw died on his feet. Without a second look at either of the dead men, Red rushed to the wounded Hattie and knelt beside her. Mac was on his feet, unsteady but facing the open doorway, expecting other outlaws. But for the groaning of Hattie, there was only silence. Without a word, Red lifted her, placing her on one of the lower bunks. Trinity, Rachel, and Elizabeth were instantly by his side, and he turned to them.

  “See to her, please.”

  “We will,” Trinity said. “Don’t worry.”

  Haze and Buck, despite their wounds, sat on their bunks, their Colts ready. Suddenly there was a pounding of hooves, and Red moved to the door, his Colt ready.

  “It’s Port and the boys,” said Red. “They must have heard the shooting.”

  The teamsters hit the ground running, halting at the sight of the two dead men lying on the cabin floor.

  “What happened to the other two?” Guthrie asked.

  “That’s all there was,” said Red, “but they wounded Hattie before we nailed them. If you gents will help me, we’ll haul these varmints out for the buzzards and coyotes. I hope it don’t make the critters sick.”

  Once the dead men were removed, the teamsters hung the door back in place as best they could.

  “Red,” Guthrie said, “don’t you reckon we ought to backtrack them two? There was four of ’em, and if the others is still skulking around, we ought to know it.”

  “I think you’re right,” said Red. “Mac, we’re goin’ to do some trailing.”

  “Boys,” Guthrie said, turning to his teamsters, “stay close until we get back. Them mules, wherever they are, can wait till we settle with these owl hoots.”

  “Saddle us a couple of horses, Port,” said Red. “I’m not handy at ridin’ a mule. I’ll be along after I see Hattie.”

  Hattie lay on her back, stripped from the waist down. Trinity had a pot of boiling water and was about to cleanse the wound.

  “How bad?” Red asked. Her teeth clenched, Hattie said nothing.

  “It missed the bone,” said Trinity. “It ripped through the fleshy part of her right thigh and made a bloody mess of part of her behind. We’re going to turn her on her belly and she’ll be that way for a while.”

  It was serious enough, painful in the extreme, but not life-threatening. Red went out and joined Port Guthrie.

  “How bad is she hurt?” Guthrie asked.

  “No broken bones,” said Red, “but she’ll be on her belly for a while.”

  “All the more reason for us findin’ out what happened to those other pelicans,” the teamster said. “We’ll be here a few more days, until the wounded can travel.”

  “I think so,” Red agreed. “I’d hate to slam Hattie around in that wagon box. We’ve killed so much time here, another three or four days won’t hurt.”

  Red and Guthrie had no trouble backtracking the outlaws. They reined up when Red’s horse nickered and another answered.

  “That gives us away,” said Guthrie.

  Both men dismounted, took their Winchesters, and proceeded on foot. They came out above the shelving rock, and from their position, could see only the two grazing horses.

  “They’re camped under the bluff,” Red said quietly. “You ease down this side, and I’ll take the other. We’ll have them in a cross fire.”

  The descent was difficult, for there was thick underbrush and stones that might easily dislodge and send a man tumbling. Guthrie was first to reach a position where he could see the sprawled bodies of the dead men.

  “They’re down there, Red,” Guthrie shouted, “but their owl-hootin’ days are done.”

  Reaching the camp, Red and Guthrie silently regarded the grim scene for a moment.

  “This don’t make a hell of a lot of sense,” said Red. “The pair that come chargin’ into the cabin must have killed these two, but why?”

  “Whatever the reason, it flat didn’t help their cause none,” Guthrie said. “The four of ’em could have staked out the cabin and picked us off, one or two at a time.”

  “I reckon these two might have favored doin’ just that,” said Red. “That would explain the varmints that tried to rush us. There’s got to be somethin’ in that cabin they purely was afraid we’d find.”

  “They ain’t gonna be needin’ their horses,” Guthrie said. “We might as well take them with us, and pick up the other two we saw as we rode out.”

/>   “Smart thinking,” said Red. “I can’t see leavin’ good horses running loose as bait for wolves. We’ll take the saddles, too.”

  When Red and Guthrie approached the cabin leading the four horses, Mac came out to meet them. He didn’t ask any questions, for the led horses said it all.

  “For an hombre that’s been shot, you’re up and about a mite soon,” Red observed.

  Mac laughed. “I’ve come down with somethin’ more deadly than lead poisoning. Cabin fever. I don’t see any bullet holes in either of you.”

  “We wasn’t exposed to any lead,” said Guthrie. “Them other two hombres was graveyard dead when we found ’em. We reckoned they was gunned down by the same two that busted into the cabin. Don’t make no sense at all.”

  “Maybe it does,” Mac said. “Come on in and have a look at what we found while you and Red were gone.”

  “I want to see how Hattie is,” said Red.

  “She’s asleep,” Mac replied. “Trinity dressed her wound and gave her a powerful dose of laudanum so she can sleep through the worst of the pain.”

  “All right, then,” said Red, “what have you discovered?”

  “Elizabeth and Rachel found what the outlaws were looking for,” Mac said. “There was a loose log head-high, near the chimney. Rachel, light a candle so Red and Port can see.”

  Rachel lighted a candle and held it over one of the bunks where there was a mass of what appeared to be paper remnants.

  “Why, that’s just chewed-up paper,” said Guthrie. “The rats has had hold of whatever it used to be.”

  “We believe it used to be thousands of dollars in greenbacks,” Mac said. “Sure don’t seem worth the lives of five men, does it?”

  “It’s the cruelest kind of joke,” said Red, “but considerin’ the four varmints involved, I reckon justice has been done.”

  “Yeah,” Guthrie said. “We come out of it considerably better than them owl hoots. We got four good horses and saddles.”

  Red found Hattie asleep, belly-down.

  “She was in a lot of pain,” said Trinity. “I gave her a big dose of laudanum, and by the time she comes out of that, she may have a temperature and be ready for whiskey.”

 

‹ Prev