[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

divided us from town. It taken several days, but I got it done, and Al
ploughed some on the other side.
Back up into the woods we scouted the country, and here and there tied onto a
dead fall and dragged it into place. In other places we cut trees and felled
them so they'd form a barrier to riders or even men on foot. We laid out
trails through these barriers with certain logs to be lifted to let us by. It
was like one of these mazes you hear tell of. If a man knew his way as we did
he could ride through almighty fast, but if he didn't know the key entrance
and exit he played hob gettin' through.
Fire was what we feared most. We set out barrels and filled them with water
near the barns and bunkhouse, and we shot more meat and jerked it against a
Page 59
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
long fight.
Two nights later I woke up with a yell ringing in my ears. Somebody was
pounding on the door and yellin' "Fire!" I grabbed for my hat and my pants,
slamming the first on my head and scrambling into the others. I stamped my
feet into boots, grabbed my gun belt, and ran for the door.
The whole horizon was lit by flames. They were coming right at us with a good
beat of wind behind them. As I ran for the corral I heard the beat of hoofs
and Al Fulbric came out on the dead run. He was in his long Johns with a gun
belted on, waving his rifle and yellin' like a Comanche. But across his horse
in front of him he had a bunch of old sacks and a spade.
It taken me a moment to throw the leather on the roan and get into the
saddle. There were sacks laid out and ready and I grabbed a bundle along with
a shovel and raced after him.
We reached our firebreak just ahead of the flames. Believe me, had it not
been there we'd have been wiped out, but because it was lyin' like it was, on
our side of the hill, Planner hadn't even guessed it was there.
We hit the dirt, and leaving our horses on the ranch side of the break, we
ran across and went to whipping out the first inroads of flame with our sacks.
We managed to fight it for a bit, then fell back after starting backfires.
The backfires burned right up to our firebreak and gave us about fifty more
feet of leeway. Only a few sparks managed to blow across to the ranch side and
we whipped those out or buried them with earth before they got started.
Pennywell was right there with us, and so was Em. Suddenly I turned sharp
around. "The house!" I said. "They've gotten into the house by now!"
We hit our saddles on the run, Em no slower than the rest of us, and we went
down the slope on the run.
As we came into the back door, a bunch of men were crowdin' into the front
door and Em ran through, me behind her. Al cut around through another room.
Len Spivey was there, and Matthews, and some others. Len was grinning. "Looks
like we got you! Jake thought that fire would do it."
They all had guns in their hands and there were eight of them and only two of
us in sight.
They guessed right on some things, they guessed wrong on Emily Talon.
"You got nothing," she said, and she cut loose her dogs ... only they were
slugs from a big Dragoon Colt.
They couldn't believe it. They'd been sure if there was trouble it would come
from me, and they paid no mind to the womenfolks, or mighty little. And they
didn't even know about Al.
Em just tilted her old pistol and cut loose, and just as she fired, Al
Fulbric jumped from the bedroom door with a shotgun in his hands, and somehow
my old six-shooter was speaking its piece right along with them.
It was shock that won for us. They'd not expected shooting with the women
there, not really knowing what kind of a woman Em was. It was shock and the
time it takes a man to react. Em's first shot caught Matthews, who was closest
Page 60
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
to her, and turned him halfway around. His own gun went oft into the floor
just as Al cut loose with a double-barreled shotgun.
Matthews was falling, shot through the body. Another man grabbed at the
doorjamb and slid down it to the floor, and Len Spivey threw himself at the
door and damn near broke his neck getting out of there.
We ran to the door after them. One man turned to fire and my bullet cut him
right across the collarbone from side to side. I saw him stagger and cry out,
seen his shirt flop where the bullet cut it, and then I put a second one into
his brisket. And then they were gone.
They left three behind. Matthews was down and dying. The man who slid down
the doorjamb had taken a load of buckshot at twelve-foot range, and he was
dead. A third man lay on the grass outside the front door.
They'd drawn us off with the fire as they figured, but they had guessed wrong
on Emily Talon. I might have held back myself, for fear of the women getting
shot, but there was no hold-back in Em.
Nor in Pennywell.
She had got off two shots. I saw her loading up again afterwards. She was
pale as a ghost when it was over, but she was thumbing two cartridges back
into her pistol, and she was ready.
Man, those werewomen!
12
There was a meanness in me. We'd come off lucky. Em had been burned by one
bullet, but that was the only injury to any of us.
We'd lost some grass, but spring rains and the winter snows would bring that
back. The burning left us secure from that side at least, for now there was
nothing left to burn.
They'd busted through the front window. They'd tried to break down the door,
but it just didn't bust that easy. They'd pried off one of the shutters and
had busted through the window to get in. That was what allowed us time to get
down there.
But it was not in me to sit by, so I went right outside, and saying nothing
to anybody I hit the road for town. I pulled up in the shadow of a barn, saw
their horses at the hitch rail of the hotel-saloon, and I walked across the
street and up the steps. They were all inside, cursing and swearing and
downing drinks when I came through the door, and they turned around thinking I
was Planner.
I never said yes or no, I just cut loose. My first bullet taken Len Spivey
just as he closed his fist over his gun butt. It slammed him into the bar and
the second one opened a hole right in the hollow at the base of his throat.
One other man went down before a slug bit me in the leg and I started to
fall. I braced myself against the wall, hammered the rest of my shells into
them, and then commenced pushing the empties out.
The room was full of smoke from that old black powder, and from somewhere
near the bar flame stabbed at me and I was hit again.
Page 61
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
I didn't fall. I just kept plugging fresh cartridges into those empty
chambers and then lifted my six-gun for another have at them. Sliding down the
wall to one knee I peered under the smoke that filled the room. I saw some
boots, stabbed two shots about four feet above them, and saw a man fall.
I crawled toward the door and managed to push it open and get outside. Nobody
needed to tell me I was hard hit, and nobody needed to tell me I'd done a damn
fool thing to ride into the enemy camp and go to blasting.
My horse was yonder, and I crawled for him. A door opened in the side of the
hotel, then closed easy like. I hitched myself down the steps into the street
and using the hitch rail, pulled myself to my feet.
I was backing across the street, gun in hand, when Jake Planner stepped
around the corner of the hotel on those crutches of his. He had a six-shooter
in one hand, and he kind of eased his weight on the other crutch and lifted
the gun. At the same moment I saw Brewer come out of the saloon door. He had a [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

Archiwum