The Gunsmith 385 Read online

The big bartender turned and looked at Clint, clearly annoyed, then came back.

  “Are you gonna give me trouble, friend?” the barman demanded.

  Clint drew his gun and stuck the barrel underneath the man’s chin.

  “I’m going to give you a lot of trouble,” he said.

  Clint heard chairs scrape the floor behind him, then heard Travis say, “Stand easy, gents. We’re just lookin’ for the answers to some questions, that’s all.”

  Clint was depending on Travis to keep the others at bay long enough for him to get those answers.

  Travis said to the bartender, “If I was you, I’d answer my friend’s question. They’re still scraping the last bartender’s brains off the ceiling.”

  “Now,” Clint said, “five men would have ridden in here together in the past three or four days. Chances are they would have been looking for a drink. Think hard.”

  “Hey, take it easy, mister,” the man said. His eyes were wide as he tried to look down at the gun. “F-Four men rode in here and had some drinks, and then a fifth one came in looking for them.”

  “Looking for them?”

  “Y-Yeah,” the bartender said. “Near as I can figure, they rode out without him. He was really mad! He said they wasn’t gonna cheat him outta his cut.”

  “When was this?”

  “T-Two days ago.”

  “Two?”

  “M-Maybe a day and a half.”

  Clint removed the gun barrel from the man’s chin. The indentation of an “0” was left behind.

  “Which way did they go?” Clint asked.

  “I—I didn’t look when they left,” the man said, “but I think they went north.”

  “That what you told the other man?”

  “Yessir.”

  “How far behind them was he?”

  “A f-few hours.”

  “Okay.”

  Clint holstered his gun, then looked behind him. Several men had risen from their chairs, but Travis’s gun was keeping them in place.

  “Go ahead,” Clint said to Travis. “I’ll watch your back.”

  Travis began backing toward the batwing doors, but kept his gun out.

  “Anybody want to try?” Clint asked. “Go ahead. I’m just mad enough to kill somebody. No?”

  None of the men moved for their guns.

  “Then sit down!” Clint snapped.

  They all sat.

  “First man out that door gets shot,” Clint said. “Don’t anybody move until you hear us ride out. Got it?”

  “W-We got it, mister,” the bartender said.

  Travis was at the door and said, “Okay.”

  Clint turned his back on the men and walked to the door, where Travis stood holding one wing open, his gun still in his hand.

  * * *

  Outside the saloon Travis holstered his gun.

  “What now?” he asked.

  “You did good in there,” Clint said.

  “You think the bartender told the truth?”

  “It’s not unusual for thieves to fall out,” Clint said. “Yeah, I think he told the truth. Looks like Tom Barry is starting to get rid of his men so he doesn’t have to split with them.”

  “You don’t think his other men see what he’s doin’?” Travis asked.

  “All they see is a bigger cut for themselves,” Clint said. “They’re not looking beyond that.”

  “So I guess we’re not gettin’ a hot meal here, huh?” Travis asked.

  “No,” Clint said. “We’ll stop at the mercantile for a few things and continue north. Maybe we’ll catch up to the fifth man. He might help us with the rest.”

  “Unless he catches up to the rest of them first.”

  “If they have a falling-out that leads to gunplay,” Clint said, “that can only help us.”

  “We should probably get movin’ before somebody inside gets brave,” Travis said.

  “Good point,” Clint said.

  As they mounted up, he thought he’d at least found out something he’d been wondering about. Travis could, indeed, watch his back when the time came.

  TWENTY

  They bought a few supplies, then split them so one man wouldn’t have to carry everything.

  Outside of town, to the north, they once again picked up the trail of the three-shoed horse.

  “Looks to me like it doesn’t belong to the fifth man,” Travis said.

  “Good, so that horse is still with the rest of them,” Clint said.

  “Could be the following man’s horse, the fifth man,” Travis said, “but I don’t think so.”

  Clint was mounted, while Travis was down on one knee on the ground.

  “Okay, I buy it,” Clint said. “Let’s move.”

  Travis mounted up and they started out again.

  * * *

  When they realized they weren’t going to catch up to anyone before dark, they decided to camp.

  This time they were able to prepare some bacon and beans, along with Clint’s trail coffee. They sat on opposite sides of the fire to eat.

  “That’s some horse you got there,” Travis said. “If you weren’t takin’ it easy, I doubt mine would be able to keep up with him.”

  “There’s no need to push hard, not yet anyway,” Clint said. “When the time comes, you’ll just have to do the best you can to keep up.”

  “Well, my roan ain’t so bad,” Travis said. “He’s got a lot of experience.”

  “He looks like a decent animal,” Clint admitted.

  They cleaned up after eating, then Clint made another pot of coffee. They sat and had another cup each.

  “Tell me somethin’,” Travis said.

  “What?”

  “Would you have shot that bartender?”

  “Just for not talking to me?” Clint asked. “No.”

  “Not even to help your friend?”

  “Killing that bartender in cold blood wouldn’t get me to Tom Barry any faster,” Clint said. “I’m not a cold-blooded killer. If you’ve learned anything about me in all this time you’ve been trailing me, you should have learned that.”

  “I have,” Travis said. “I just wanted to see what you’d say.”

  “I’ll always say what I’m thinking,” Clint said. “The truth.”

  Travis sat quietly and drank his coffee.

  * * *

  In another camp, miles ahead, Zeke Kane asked Barry, “You think Davis is gonna catch up?”

  “I told him to make sure we weren’t bein’ followed,” Barry said. “I warned him we weren’t gonna wait for him, that he’d have to ride hard to catch up.” This was a lie.

  “He’ll make it,” O’Brien said to Kane.

  “I guess,” Kane said.

  “We’ll set watches for tonight, like usual,” Barry said. “Don’t anybody shoot poor Davis if he comes ridin’ in. Zeke, you’re up first.”

  “Sure, boss.”

  Kane set his plate down and went to fetch his rifle.

  “What do we do if Davis does catch up?” O’Brien asked Barry.

  “We’ll just tell him we had to keep movin’,” Barry said. “He’ll buy that. Check on the horses, Irish.”

  “Right.”

  That left Barry at the fire with Hastings.

  “When do we get rid of them?” Hastings asked.

  “As soon as we make sure we’re not being followed,” Barry said.

  “And then we split the money?”

  “That’s right,” Barry lied, “and then we split the money.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  The next day Travis was able to distinguish the tracks of the fifth man.

  “He’s following them, the way we are,” he said. “See? His tracks overlay theirs.” He was down on one knee, bent over reading t
he tracks.

  “Okay,” Clint said. “How far ahead of us is he?”

  “I’d say . . . five hours.”

  “And the rest of them?”

  “A day’s ride.”

  “Okay, then,” Clint said, “it may be time to push it.”

  “Looks like he’s pushing it,” Travis said. “From the length of the strides, I’d say they’re walking, and he’s riding hard.” He looked back over his shoulder at Clint. “He keeps pushing that horse, he’ll ride it into the ground.”

  “Okay, so we push, but not as hard,” Clint said.

  Travis stood up, took his reins from Clint, and mounted up.

  “I think this old roan can keep up if you don’t try to break any speed records.”

  “Eclipse is built for stamina, not speed.”

  “Where did you get that horse anyway?” Travis asked.

  “It was a gift from a great man,” Clint said. He didn’t know if Travis would even recognize the name “P. T. Barnum.”

  “Guess you must’ve done him a great service.”

  “We did each other some good,” Clint said. “Come on, let’s move.”

  * * *

  The horse went down, and Cameron Davis went flying over his head. He hit the ground with a bone-jarring thud and lay there a few minutes, trying to catch his breath. By the time he rolled over and stood up to check on his horse, the animal was dead.

  “Goddamnit!” he screamed. He threw a couple of punches at the air for good measure, then bent over when the movements caused him some back pain.

  Now he’d never catch up to those cheatin’ bastards!

  He removed his rifle and saddlebags from the fallen horse. He couldn’t have gotten the saddle off if he wanted to, wouldn’t have been able to carry it if he did. He looked off into the distance and saw a barn. He started walking toward it. Maybe he could get a horse there.

  * * *

  Barry figured if Davis hadn’t caught up to them by now, he probably wouldn’t. They could afford to stop in the next town, rest the horses, have a meal and a night in a real bed, maybe have a woman, and then move on.

  The town was Waco. Big enough to have everything they needed.

  Hastings came riding up alongside him.

  “The boys wanna know if we’re gonna stop,” he said.

  “Tell ’em yeah, we’ll stop overnight. They can do what they want.”

  “Suits me,” Hastings said. “I just want a beer and a steak.”

  “You got it,” Barry said.

  As Hastings rode back to tell the other men, Barry put his hand on the saddlebag that had the four thousand in it. Waco might be the place he could get away from the others. He’d have to wait and see if the chance came up.

  * * *

  “We closin’ the gap,” Travis said, mounting up again. “His horse is shortening stride. It’s gonna go down anytime now.”

  “So unless he finds another one, we’ll catch up to him before he catches up to the rest of the gang.”

  They were riding along and Travis suddenly stood in his stirrups and said, “Maybe sooner than you think.”

  “Wha—”

  “Up there, see it?” Travis said, pointing.

  Clint looked into the distance, saw what he thought was a rock, then realized it wasn’t.

  It was a horse.

  TWENTY-TWO

  They dismounted when they reached the horse and checked it.

  “Dead,” Travis said. “Ridden down.”

  “No saddlebags or rifle,” Clint said.

  They looked around, saw the barn in the distance. Travis then pointed to the boot prints.

  “He headed for that barn.”

  “If he wants another horse,” Clint said, “he’s not about to buy it.”

  “No, he isn’t.”

  “We better get over there.”

  They mounted up and rode hard for the barn.

  Even before they reached the barn and reined in, they heard the shouting.

  “You no-good sonofabitch! You can’t steal my horse.”

  It was a woman.

  “Inside the barn,” Clint said. He dismounted and ran for the door. Travis ran behind him.

  As Clint entered, he saw a man holding a saddle in one hand, and a woman in the other. He pushed the woman so that she fell on her ass, and then turned to the horse he was trying to saddle.

  “You bastard!” she yelled. “I’ll kill you.”

  As she started to get up, Clint rushed past her, grabbed the man by the shoulder, and spun him around. The man obviously thought it was the woman, but when he saw Clint, his eyes went wide. Clint hit him in the face with one punch and the man went down.

  Clint turned to the woman, reached down to help her up. Even under those circumstances he couldn’t help noticing how lovely she was. In her forties, she was dressed in a man’s shirt and jeans, which did nothing to hide how shapely she was.

  She smoothed her long, auburn hair—which was in a wild tangle—and said, “Thanks. He just walked in and started to steal one of my horses.”

  “You don’t have to worry now,” Clint said.

  “We’ve been trackin’ him, ma’am,” Travis said. “He won’t bother you anymore.”

  “What’d he do?”

  “Robbed a saloon, shot a friend of mine,” Clint said.

  “You gonna take him in?”

  “Right after he helps us catch the rest of the gang.”

  “Well,” she said, slapping her firm ass to get the dust off it, “you fellas did me a favor, least I can do is return it. It’s gettin’ late. You’re welcome to stay for supper, and then you can bed down in the barn.”

  Travis looked at Clint, who nodded, and said to the woman, “Much obliged, ma’am. My name’s Clint . . . and this is Travis.” He decided not to give his last name.

  “My name’s Laura Wells,” she said. “Come on inside. I can give you some coffee now and then cook up some supper.”

  Clint looked at Travis.

  “You go ahead,” Travis said. “I’ll tie this jasper up and see what he can tell us.”

  “Okay,” Clint said. “See you inside.”

  He followed Laura to the house, watching the way her behind fit her jeans as she walked.

  * * *

  Travis came in while Clint was drinking coffee. He’d already discovered that Laura lived there alone and raised horses.

  “Don’t have so many now,” she said, “which is why I can’t afford to have any stolen.”

  “Don’t blame you,” Clint said.

  Travis sat down and Laura poured a cup of coffee for him.

  “Hope you fellas don’t mind stew,” she said, stirring a big pot.

  “It smells great, ma’am,” Travis said. “And I appreciate this coffee. I’ve been drinking Clint’s trail swill for too long.”

  “My trail swill is just fine,” Clint said. “But this is better.”

  Travis sat across from Clint.

  “What did you get from him?” Clint asked.

  “He’s steamin’ mad that his friends left without him when they were in Bronson. He figures they’re headed for Waco, and then Fort Worth.”

  “We’ll have to take him with us when we leave,” Clint said. “We can’t leave him here.”

  Travis looked at Laura.

  “Is there a lawman near here?”

  “There’s a sheriff about ten miles west of here, town called Millard. He’d take him.”

  Travis looked at Clint.

  “That’s a ten-mile detour,” Clint said.

  “We know where they’re going,” Travis pointed out. “If we get an early start tomorrow . . .”

  “We’ll have to think about it overnight,” Clint said.

  “Chow’s on, boy
s,” Laura said, carrying two bowls to the table, then fetching one for herself.

  They stopped talking and started eating.

  TWENTY-THREE

  The stew went down smooth, even though the meat was kind of tough. They each had a second bowl, washed down with some more coffee.

  “Got some left,” she said. “Should I take it out to him?”

  “That’s right nice of you, wantin’ to feed somebody who tried to steal from you,” Travis said.

  “Don’t want it to go to waste,” she said “and you don’t want him collapsin’ from hunger on you.”

  “No, we don’t,” Clint said. “Travis, why don’t you go get him and bring him in here. Let him eat. Maybe if we show him a kindness, he might have more to say.”

  “What about the horses?”

  “I’ll go out and take care of them.”

  “I’ll show you where to put them,” Laura said.

  “Okay,” Clint said. “Thanks.”

  The three of them went to the barn. Clint and Laura waited outside while Travis untied Davis and then walked him into the house.

  That left the two of them alone.

  “You mind if I ask you somethin’?” she asked.

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  “You like the way I look?”

  “Wha—well, yeah, I think you’re beautiful.”

  “Been a long time since I been with a man,” she said, “and I find you right appealing.”

  “Well . . . I’m flattered.”

  “Won’t take long,” she said. “we can just go right there in the barn.”

  “Laura,” he said, “you’re obviously not a woman a man wants to rush with.”

  She smiled at him and asked, “Is that sweet talk?”

  “I guess it is.”

  Laura took Clint by the hand and led him into the drafty old barn. “I couldn’t wait another second,” she said.

  Clint allowed his eyes to linger on the rounded curves of her breasts and the smooth, creamy skin of cleavage displayed by her tight-fitting clothes. She had managed to already undo the top two buttons of her shirt. “I’ve been thinking of a few things myself,” he told her.

  “Like what?”

  He answered by moving closer to her and taking her in his arms. She responded without a struggle and kissed him deeply. Her lips parted so she could slip her tongue into his mouth, and her hand wandered between his legs to feel the growing bulge in his crotch. As she massaged him, she kissed him harder. He was surprised when she suddenly pulled away from him, but was encouraged by the mischievous smile she wore.