Tall Rider Read online

  ‘Bring her down!’ Calthrop shouted back. ‘We’ll get some answers out of her!’

  By this time, I had my Colt out. But I didn’t have a clear shot. I put my gun up and slid down the funnel. Nat headed back down the way he had come up, still holding Rusty with his free hand. She was kicking and screaming and that slowed him down enough for me to gain a few valuable yards on them.

  I wasn’t trying to be quiet any more. Nat heard me coming, slammed Rusty against the rock wall and turned. She looked dazed but took her chance. She shuffled along the ledge out of his reach and dodged out of sight round the next corner. Nat let her go and got in one shot at me. I heard the slug scream past my left ear. Then I was on him.

  Nat was a big guy. But I’d been waiting for this moment a long time and my dander was up. My momentum drove him back against the wall. I heard him gasp and the shock spilled the gun out of his hand and sent it slithering over the edge and into space. I pushed myself back off him and caught him high on the temple with a left. He rode it and, recovering fast, came back at me with a haymaking right which would have taken my head off if it had connected. But I got my chin out of the way in time. The force of his follow-through made him lose his balance and as he stumbled past me, trying to regain his footing, I hit him behind the left ear. He went down on all fours but took it better than I thought, because I’d caught him square with a good punch. He shook his head, half raised himself and, as I closed in, he tucked his head between his shoulders, threw his arms around my knees, pulled me down and threw himself on top of me.

  Like I said, he was a big guy and his weight prevented me breaking his hold. He pinned me by the arms, leaned back and for an instant we stared at each other. I saw in his eyes that he recognized me. He knew why I was there and that only one of us would leave that place alive.

  A picture suddenly came into my mind of Eli’s twisted body on the floor of Sheriff Calthrop’s office and I got even madder than I was before. I shoved him off me and was on my feet before he got up. He lunged at me. I sank a big right into his waistcoat and heard the wind whistle out of him. His head dropped but I straightened him up with an uppercut that caught him clean on the chin. The punch had all my weight behind it. I don’t think he knew what hit him. But he didn’t go down straight away. He staggered back with his arms flailing. Then he was off balance and suddenly he was gone. I peered over the ledge. He was spread-eagled on the ground below, staring up, not moving, one hand within six inches of the gun he had lost in the fight, and with his head lying at an unnatural angle. One glance was enough to tell me he was dead. One glance was all I could spare him. I had to find Rusty before Calthrop got hold of her. But looking over the edge, I saw Rusty being frog-marched at the point of his rifle. I reached for my Colt but before I could get a shot in they disappeared into the rocks.

  But if I couldn’t see Calthrop, he’d seen me. There was the sudden crack of a rifle. A large lump was blown out of the sandstone wall just next to my head and my hair was suddenly full of gravel. I ducked out of sight before he could fire again.

  ‘Time to parley, friend,’ he called.

  ‘I’m no friend of yours,’ I replied.

  ‘What are you, then? The law?’

  ‘I’m your past catching up on you, Calthrop. Let me jog your memory. I’ll give you a few names. Do you remember Harry Bridger? No? Or Eli Hook? Then how about Bart Chandler?’

  ‘What’s this, guessing games? I got no time for this.’

  ‘I’ll give you the answers. Harry Bridger owned one of the claims you jumped over Sacramento way. There’s a lot of men out there you robbed who’d give a lot to have you in their sights. Eli was a bocarro, a friend of mine. You kicked him to death in Berry’s Crossing and you’d have done the same to me if I hadn’t got away. It was the night you had the back of your jail pulled off.…’

  ‘I know you now,’ said Calthrop. ‘Pity I didn’t finish the job when I had the chance. It would’ve saved me the trouble of doing it now.’

  ‘Brad Chandler’s the name,’ I went on. ‘Bart was my brother. About two years back you shot him because he beat you fair in a horse race.’

  ‘Could be,’ said Calthrop, with a sneer in his voice. ‘I never was a good loser.’

  ‘But you’ve got out of the habit of winning lately. First you lose the Bar-T, then loot you stashed in the cave grows legs and walks, the army money you stole vanishes into thin air, and now Nat’s had an accident.…’

  I heard him snarl and I smiled. Now he really knew who I was. Now he knew why he was soon going to pay. But it wasn’t over yet.

  ‘I want that money. I know it’s here,’ he said. ‘You got a choice. You can tell me, or I can beat it out of the girl.’

  I backtracked fifteen, twenty yards along the ledge, stopped and risked a glance down. Even with the change of angle I still couldn’t see him. It looked as if I was going to have to go down and get him.

  I went down.

  On the way I weighed the odds. Calthrop wouldn’t kill both of us. If he did, he’d never get the money. I reckoned he wouldn’t want the girl dead: she was a lever he could use against me. He’d threaten her to bring me out into the open where he could gun me down. With me eliminated, he’d be free to make her talk. And when she’d talked, she wouldn’t be useful any more.…

  I heard a sound that could have been a slap or a punch and Rusty cried out in pain.

  ‘Are you getting my point, Brad?’ Calthrop called.

  ‘Looks like you got all the high cards,’ I replied. ‘Let the girl go and I’ll show you where the money is buried.’

  ‘No. You throw your gun down where I can see it and come out with your hands in the air. Them’s my terms. Do as I say and the girl won’t be harmed.’

  ‘You got me square,’ I said, and I tossed out my gun and stepped out of the shadow into the sun.

  Rusty appeared round the rock that had been shielding her and Calthrop. There was an angry welt on one side of her face. She jerked up straight like you do when someone jabs the barrel of a rifle into your back.

  ‘Show me where you put the goods,’ said Calthrop.

  I thought a moment, then said, ‘This way.’

  I led, with Rusty and Calthrop following in that order. If Rusty was surprised I was going in the wrong direction, she didn’t show it.

  I glanced over my shoulder. Calthrop was getting excited, jabbing Rusty to make her move faster, peering round her to get a better view of where we were going.

  We were going towards Nat who was still staring up at the blue, blue sky. When I was within a yard of him, I paused.

  ‘Why’re you stopping?’ barked Calthrop.

  ‘Nat’s eyes. They’re still open. A dead man’s eyes ought to be shut. You want me to do it?’

  ‘Leave him. It don’t make no difference to him now. Nor to me neither.’

  ‘Respect for the dead,’ I said and bent down.

  Calthrop put a bullet into the ground next to my foot. I used the commotion to roll over Nat and scoop up the gun that had spilled out of his fist when I’d slammed him against the rock high above. His second shot went wide, for Rusty dug one elbow into his midriff and spoiled his aim. By then I was on my feet. As I turned, I got off a shot that caught him in the shoulder and spun him round.

  Rusty grabbed his rifle off him. But he recovered quickly. With his good hand, he reached for the pearl-handled six-shooter in its fancy holster and loosed off a shot. I felt a searing pain in my calf which almost took me down as I fired.

  Calthrop threw up his arms, dropped his gun, staggered back three or four paces until he was stopped by a boulder. He stood there for a moment, a deeper patch of crimson showing against the red of his waistcoat, and then slid down the rock until he reached a sitting position. It was the last movement he ever made.

  Rusty turned to me and said, ‘If Harry was here now, I know what he’d say.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Attaboy!’ she replied, and she threw back her head an
d laughed.

  12

  THE HOMECOMING

  Calthrop’s bullet had passed clean through my right calf. It wasn’t a bad wound but it bled a lot. Rusty took the lace from my boot and used it as a tourniquet. After a while, the bleeding stopped. But when we tried getting me on one of the horses Calthrop and Nat had trailed us on, it started again. She tied it tighter, so tight I almost passed out.

  We left the bluff as we’d found it, except for two dead bodies and twenty-five boxes of US dollars hidden in the sand. Someone else could bury the dead and unbury the money. We’d send men back to do it. It was army money, so the army could look after it. But we were through. All we wanted now was to be somewhere friendly, with people who didn’t point guns at us.

  I figured we were still a six–seven hour ride from Berry’s Crossing. There was plenty of the day left and ordinarily we’d have made it easily by nightfall. But ordinarily didn’t come into it. I had to take it slow and as the day wore on and we finished the last water in the jug I started to worry. By now I had a fever and was burning up with thirst.

  When it got dark, Rusty said we should stop and rest until the moon came up. I laid my head down on my hat for a pillow and must have dozed. For the next thing I knew, Rusty was shaking me by the arm.

  ‘There’s something going on, Brad,’ she whispered. ‘I can hear calls from birds that don’t call at night. It’s got to be Indians!’

  I sat up and listened. My ears were filled with the noise of blood pumping round my body. But over it I heard the cry of a whippoor-will. I cupped my hands and answered. The next moment four shapes emerged from nowhere and stood before us.

  Rusty gave a shriek.

  ‘Bringer-of-Fire sick again,’ one of them said.

  Beams from the rising moon glinted dully on his necklace of spent copper bullets. It was Kla Klitso leading a night hunt.

  ‘Sick in leg, old friend,’ I said, and I smiled.

  ‘Who do this thing?’ he asked

  ‘The one you call millahanska, “White-man-with-silver-shining”, great enemy of the Kepwejo. But he’s stopped shining. Dead men don’t shine.’

  Kla Klitso thought a moment then he managed a smile.

  From then on, the going was smooth and I can wrap up the rest of the story quickly.

  The Indians gave us food and water. They tended my leg and escorted us back to Berry’s Crossing where we met up with Tom, Harry and the rest of the boys.

  As I thought, Harry had left Calthrop’s gunslingers to cool their heels in the cave before going in and bringing them out. They were no trouble. He handed them over to the platoon of soldiers the military had sent in response to the message Tom had passed through old man Jebb.

  A detail was sent out to the bluff. The bodies of Calthrop and Nat were brought back for identification and burial, and the twenty-five boxes continued their way to Taos.

  My leg mended and I started thinking it was time I went back to my folks in Colorado. By then, most of the cattle, money and other goods Calthrop had stolen or looted had been recovered and a percentage was set aside as a reward for those of us who’d brought his reign of terror to an end. I had more than enough money to pack up and go home.

  One day, Pete and John said they were ready to go too. Even Billy was homesick for Cedar Bluff, for all that his wife would be waiting for him. Tom had to report to headquarters where he’d get a new posting. Harry wasn’t sure what he’d do. He found it hard to get used to the idea that he’d made more money catching villains than by doing the only thing he believed he was good at, looking for gold. He hated the thought of going back to Tamblin, Ohio, his home town, where he’d die of respectability. Instead, he reckoned there might be gold in the Colorado hills and was minded to try his hand prospecting them. As for me, I was ready and anxious to go back with the bagful of money we Chandlers would need to defend our interests.

  And Rusty? Well, we’d come to what genteel folks call an understanding.

  So it was decided we’d all travel together.

  Still a farm boy at heart, I hoped I’d seen the last of greed and fighting and bullets. But I never could bring myself to hang up my gun.

  A man sooner or later learns it is a sensible thing to put the past behind him and turn his face to the future. But it’s also worth bearing in mind that the truly wise man don’t forget easy and always keeps his gun well-oiled and hanging on the peg next his hat.

  Just in case.

  By the Same Author

  Hades to Sunset

  Copyright

  © Joseph John McGraw 2006

  First published in Great Britain 2006

  This edition 2013

  ISBN 978 0 7198 0932 3 (epub)

  ISBN 978 0 7198 0933 0 (mobi)

  ISBN 978 0 7198 0934 7 (pdf)

  ISBN 978 0 7090 7918 7 (print)

  Robert Hale Limited

  Clerkenwell House

  Clerkenwell Green

  London EC1R 0HT

  www.halebooks.com

  The right of Joseph John McGraw to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988