Halliday 8, page 10
Within the space of seconds, a large crowd had gathered. Among them was the local sheriff, who quickly took charge. Mann drew him aside and spoke quietly to him for some time before the lawman inspected the dead men and announced;
“Had my eye on them the past couple days. Had the look of desperados about them, and I guess I was right.” He turned to Hope, “Miss Clayton, the whole town’s real sorry about this. But there was nothing we could do and I guess you were lucky that man was along. We’ll take your uncle to the undertaker’s. Meantime, you’d best go back to your room and rest.”
Mann reached down and plucked the case from the ground. He took the shocked Hope Clayton’s arm and led her away. In the foyer, he told the clerk to lock the case in the safe and to guard it with his life. He then escorted Hope up the stairs.
As soon as Hope saw the bed, she threw herself down and sobbed uncontrollably into the pillow. Mann waited until she had cried herself into a quieter frame of mind, before he said;
“Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll see to all the arrangements. Wait here for me and don’t let anybody in.”
Hope didn’t answer him. Mann closed the door quietly and locked it, then he dropped the key into his pocket and went down to the foyer, the room crowded with curious townsfolk. He eyed the people warily for a time before he said;
“Get out of here and get on with your business. Those two tried to rob an old man and failed. So get out of here or you’ll answer to me!”
Mann walked out of the rooming house and up the boardwalk to the law office where the sheriff was leaning against the overhang, his hat pushed to the back of his head, his stare fixed solemnly. As Mann arrived, he turned and went back inside, and when Mann entered the law office, he closed the door. Walking to his desk, the lawman stood behind it and said; “Plenty of townsmen have heard about you, Mr. Mann.”
“That doesn’t surprise me, Sheriff,” Mann told him easily. “In fact, I’m surprised you don’t seem to know me.”
“I’m new in the job. Two months, in fact. Before that I was in Colorado. Couldn’t get my kind of work in these parts, then this job came up.”
“You look the kind who’ll make a good fist of it,” Mann said, hooking his thumbs in his gunbelt. “Now, what did you want to see me about?”
“There was a heap of money involved,” the lawman said.
“Ten thousand dollars,” Mann admitted, and smiled thinly. “But don’t fret about it. It belongs to the girl now. As soon as she’s fit to travel, I’ll get her rig ready and help her out of here.”
“Where?”
“Where she can forget, Sheriff. Her uncle was the only kin she had left in the world.”
“What about you?”
Mann smiled again and ran a hand through his hair. His gaze remained fixed on the lawman. “I was taken on as a partner, Sheriff. You can check with the bank, if you like. As I remember, Clayton mentioned the partnership to one of the bank clerks.”
“I’ve already checked,” the lawman said.
“Then the rest of it is simple,” Mann said casually. “You bury Clayton and I take the girl where she wants to go. The dead men don’t worry you, do they?”
The lawman pursed his lips and shrugged. “I guess only the living should worry a man in my position. But then, as you said, everything you said to me tallies up. However, I want you out of my town as soon as possible, as much for the girl’s sake as mine.”
Mann smiled again. “I think I know what you mean, Sheriff. I’ll go, and it’ll save us both a lot of worryin’.”
Mann walked out of the jailhouse into a town that shimmered under an intense heat. Calmly, he looked toward the hills. Somewhere in that blaze of desert, Buck Halliday was coming after him. Mann thought about that and worked out a plan for himself.
That done, he retired to the saloon and sat, hardly moving, at a table in the corner. He had downed four whiskies before he felt the tension leave his body. Then, stepping out onto the boardwalk, he crossed to the rooming house and took the stairs to Hope’s room.
He let himself in and sat talking to her for some time, telling her of the places where she could find happiness.
Hope didn’t know what to say to him. Even though she couldn’t deny that she felt obligated to him, she couldn’t forget the look on his face when he had cut down those two men. The enjoyment she’d seen there still sent a chill up her spine.
Had he really changed? Or was this a pretence that she couldn’t see through?
She didn’t know the answer to that.
“Where would you suggest that we go?”
“There’s good land on offer in California. Most people are after gold there, but not us. No, sir. Gold is too risky. You see, Hope, those towns will need meat. The men and women who forget the gold and start the ranches now will be the ones who in the end will strike it rich.”
Hope wiped her tear-stained face. “What about Uncle Dick?”
“The sheriff said he’ll take care of the arrangements. I’ll have the rig ready and waiting straight after the ceremony. With your money and what I have stashed away, we’ll be able to buy the best ranch available and fill it with stock.”
“You and me?”
Mann went to her. “Why not? I had your uncle’s trust before he died. And don’t forget I killed those men for him and for you. But that part of my life is over now. There can be no more killings for me, no more Latimers and no more Whelans. I just want to buy a place of our own and work it, sweat like hell and get plenty of blisters for my trouble.”
He looked longingly at her, letting his gaze sweep over her body.
“And I want a woman, Hope, a woman to share it with me.”
Hope shook her head and walked to the window. She pulled the curtains back and then she gasped;
“Buck!”
Mann froze for a brief instant and then he stepped across the room and pushed her away from the window. Hope let out a cry as his grip bruised her arm. She stood back and saw deep hatred take hold of him. At that moment, she knew that all her fears had been well founded.
Mann swung about, brushing her aside on his way to the door.
“What is it?” Hope called out. “What are you going to do?”
“Stay put! And don’t come anywhere near the street.”
Hope felt a deep chill course through her body. Then the door slammed and she rushed at it as the key turned in the lock.
Halliday was in danger! Desperately, she hammered her fists against the oaken door, but in vain.
Exhausted, she went back to the window and lifted it.
Riding a mule in the company of a bewhiskered old-timer, Halliday had stopped in the middle of the street. It seemed to Hope that he was thanking the old man. There was a brief waving of arms before the old man accepted some money. Desperately now, she leaned out the window and called;
“Buck! Rees Mann’s on his way down the stairs. I think he plans to kill you!”
Halliday looked up at her. But almost at the same time, he saw Mann striding across the boardwalk. There was a good-sized crowd in the street but Mann charged through, sending several people staggering out of his way. He stepped into the street and Halliday stood looking at him, legs spread. A long silence fell between them, that Mann finally broke.
“Damn you, Halliday!”
“It’s you who’s damned,” Halliday said, then Mann’s hand flashed down to his side.
His draw was so fast it brought a gasp from some of the people watching. His gun came level as Hope Clayton screamed. Then she covered her face with her hands.
In the street, Buck Halliday stood his ground. No expression showed on his face, not even when the bullet slammed into his shoulder. His draw was a trifle slower than Mann’s, but his aim was more accurate. His bullet tore Mann’s neck open. Mann went down on his knees and knelt there in the street, wildly shaking his head, sending blood spraying into the dust.
Then Mann made a gurgling sound and fell onto his face.
For three days, Buck Halliday recovered in a bed in back of the medic’s house, impatient to get back on his feet, knowing that to try it would be foolish. He was sorry to hear of the old man’s demise and was worried about it for Hope’s sake. Then on the fourth afternoon, the old medic released him.
He went to the saloon and quenched his thirst for half an hour. Then he went up to Hope Clayton’s room. He found her sitting on the edge of her bed, hands clasped on her lap, looking sadly up at him.
He went to her and she rose, shook her head for a moment, then threw herself into his arms. Halliday held her as she cried, stroking her hair as she clung to him, all the time delighting in the freshness of her skin.
Nothing in this world would drag him from her room tonight.
Hope sat him on the bed and took off his boots. She stood there looking down at him, then removed his shirt and unbuckled his belt. Her lips quivered, then her hands began to tremble. Finally, she lifted her hands to the buttons of her blouse and began undressing herself.
Buck Halliday watched each item of clothing drop from her body until she stood in front of him. Then he reached up and pulled her slowly toward him ...
The lawman stood on the opposite boardwalk and looked up at the rooming house window. He saw Buck Halliday standing at the window, smoking a cigarette. He lifted an arm and waved, and Halliday waved back. Then the curtains were drawn shut by a slender hand.
Chuckling despite himself, the lawman went on his way, knowing that for the moment there were at least two happy people in his town ...
About the Author
Adam Brady was one of many pseudonyms used by prolific Australian writer Desmond Robert Dunn (6 November 1929-5 May 2003). In addition to four crime novels published under his own name, Des was a tireless western writer whose career spanned more than fifty years and well in excess of 400 oaters. These quick-moving, vivid and always compelling stories appeared under such pen-names as Shad Denver, Gunn Halliday, Sheldon B. Cole, Brett Iverson, Matt Cregan, Walt Renwick and Morgan Culp. He is also said to have written a number of the ever-popular Larry Kent P.I. novels, but at this late date author attribution is almost impossible. He married and divorced twice, and had three children. He died at the age of 73 in Brisbane, Queensland.
The Halliday Series by Adam Brady
Halliday
Fury of the .44
Ride for the Devil
Why Men Die
The Drifting Breed
Born to be Wild
Name Your Bounty
Only the Fastest
… And more to come!
But the adventure doesn’t end here …
Join us for more first-class, action-packed books.
Regular updates feature on our website and blog
The Adventures continue…
The Home of Great Western Fiction!
Adam Brady, Halliday 8
Thank you for reading books on Archive.BookFrom.Net
Share this book with friends
“Had my eye on them the past couple days. Had the look of desperados about them, and I guess I was right.” He turned to Hope, “Miss Clayton, the whole town’s real sorry about this. But there was nothing we could do and I guess you were lucky that man was along. We’ll take your uncle to the undertaker’s. Meantime, you’d best go back to your room and rest.”
Mann reached down and plucked the case from the ground. He took the shocked Hope Clayton’s arm and led her away. In the foyer, he told the clerk to lock the case in the safe and to guard it with his life. He then escorted Hope up the stairs.
As soon as Hope saw the bed, she threw herself down and sobbed uncontrollably into the pillow. Mann waited until she had cried herself into a quieter frame of mind, before he said;
“Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll see to all the arrangements. Wait here for me and don’t let anybody in.”
Hope didn’t answer him. Mann closed the door quietly and locked it, then he dropped the key into his pocket and went down to the foyer, the room crowded with curious townsfolk. He eyed the people warily for a time before he said;
“Get out of here and get on with your business. Those two tried to rob an old man and failed. So get out of here or you’ll answer to me!”
Mann walked out of the rooming house and up the boardwalk to the law office where the sheriff was leaning against the overhang, his hat pushed to the back of his head, his stare fixed solemnly. As Mann arrived, he turned and went back inside, and when Mann entered the law office, he closed the door. Walking to his desk, the lawman stood behind it and said; “Plenty of townsmen have heard about you, Mr. Mann.”
“That doesn’t surprise me, Sheriff,” Mann told him easily. “In fact, I’m surprised you don’t seem to know me.”
“I’m new in the job. Two months, in fact. Before that I was in Colorado. Couldn’t get my kind of work in these parts, then this job came up.”
“You look the kind who’ll make a good fist of it,” Mann said, hooking his thumbs in his gunbelt. “Now, what did you want to see me about?”
“There was a heap of money involved,” the lawman said.
“Ten thousand dollars,” Mann admitted, and smiled thinly. “But don’t fret about it. It belongs to the girl now. As soon as she’s fit to travel, I’ll get her rig ready and help her out of here.”
“Where?”
“Where she can forget, Sheriff. Her uncle was the only kin she had left in the world.”
“What about you?”
Mann smiled again and ran a hand through his hair. His gaze remained fixed on the lawman. “I was taken on as a partner, Sheriff. You can check with the bank, if you like. As I remember, Clayton mentioned the partnership to one of the bank clerks.”
“I’ve already checked,” the lawman said.
“Then the rest of it is simple,” Mann said casually. “You bury Clayton and I take the girl where she wants to go. The dead men don’t worry you, do they?”
The lawman pursed his lips and shrugged. “I guess only the living should worry a man in my position. But then, as you said, everything you said to me tallies up. However, I want you out of my town as soon as possible, as much for the girl’s sake as mine.”
Mann smiled again. “I think I know what you mean, Sheriff. I’ll go, and it’ll save us both a lot of worryin’.”
Mann walked out of the jailhouse into a town that shimmered under an intense heat. Calmly, he looked toward the hills. Somewhere in that blaze of desert, Buck Halliday was coming after him. Mann thought about that and worked out a plan for himself.
That done, he retired to the saloon and sat, hardly moving, at a table in the corner. He had downed four whiskies before he felt the tension leave his body. Then, stepping out onto the boardwalk, he crossed to the rooming house and took the stairs to Hope’s room.
He let himself in and sat talking to her for some time, telling her of the places where she could find happiness.
Hope didn’t know what to say to him. Even though she couldn’t deny that she felt obligated to him, she couldn’t forget the look on his face when he had cut down those two men. The enjoyment she’d seen there still sent a chill up her spine.
Had he really changed? Or was this a pretence that she couldn’t see through?
She didn’t know the answer to that.
“Where would you suggest that we go?”
“There’s good land on offer in California. Most people are after gold there, but not us. No, sir. Gold is too risky. You see, Hope, those towns will need meat. The men and women who forget the gold and start the ranches now will be the ones who in the end will strike it rich.”
Hope wiped her tear-stained face. “What about Uncle Dick?”
“The sheriff said he’ll take care of the arrangements. I’ll have the rig ready and waiting straight after the ceremony. With your money and what I have stashed away, we’ll be able to buy the best ranch available and fill it with stock.”
“You and me?”
Mann went to her. “Why not? I had your uncle’s trust before he died. And don’t forget I killed those men for him and for you. But that part of my life is over now. There can be no more killings for me, no more Latimers and no more Whelans. I just want to buy a place of our own and work it, sweat like hell and get plenty of blisters for my trouble.”
He looked longingly at her, letting his gaze sweep over her body.
“And I want a woman, Hope, a woman to share it with me.”
Hope shook her head and walked to the window. She pulled the curtains back and then she gasped;
“Buck!”
Mann froze for a brief instant and then he stepped across the room and pushed her away from the window. Hope let out a cry as his grip bruised her arm. She stood back and saw deep hatred take hold of him. At that moment, she knew that all her fears had been well founded.
Mann swung about, brushing her aside on his way to the door.
“What is it?” Hope called out. “What are you going to do?”
“Stay put! And don’t come anywhere near the street.”
Hope felt a deep chill course through her body. Then the door slammed and she rushed at it as the key turned in the lock.
Halliday was in danger! Desperately, she hammered her fists against the oaken door, but in vain.
Exhausted, she went back to the window and lifted it.
Riding a mule in the company of a bewhiskered old-timer, Halliday had stopped in the middle of the street. It seemed to Hope that he was thanking the old man. There was a brief waving of arms before the old man accepted some money. Desperately now, she leaned out the window and called;
“Buck! Rees Mann’s on his way down the stairs. I think he plans to kill you!”
Halliday looked up at her. But almost at the same time, he saw Mann striding across the boardwalk. There was a good-sized crowd in the street but Mann charged through, sending several people staggering out of his way. He stepped into the street and Halliday stood looking at him, legs spread. A long silence fell between them, that Mann finally broke.
“Damn you, Halliday!”
“It’s you who’s damned,” Halliday said, then Mann’s hand flashed down to his side.
His draw was so fast it brought a gasp from some of the people watching. His gun came level as Hope Clayton screamed. Then she covered her face with her hands.
In the street, Buck Halliday stood his ground. No expression showed on his face, not even when the bullet slammed into his shoulder. His draw was a trifle slower than Mann’s, but his aim was more accurate. His bullet tore Mann’s neck open. Mann went down on his knees and knelt there in the street, wildly shaking his head, sending blood spraying into the dust.
Then Mann made a gurgling sound and fell onto his face.
For three days, Buck Halliday recovered in a bed in back of the medic’s house, impatient to get back on his feet, knowing that to try it would be foolish. He was sorry to hear of the old man’s demise and was worried about it for Hope’s sake. Then on the fourth afternoon, the old medic released him.
He went to the saloon and quenched his thirst for half an hour. Then he went up to Hope Clayton’s room. He found her sitting on the edge of her bed, hands clasped on her lap, looking sadly up at him.
He went to her and she rose, shook her head for a moment, then threw herself into his arms. Halliday held her as she cried, stroking her hair as she clung to him, all the time delighting in the freshness of her skin.
Nothing in this world would drag him from her room tonight.
Hope sat him on the bed and took off his boots. She stood there looking down at him, then removed his shirt and unbuckled his belt. Her lips quivered, then her hands began to tremble. Finally, she lifted her hands to the buttons of her blouse and began undressing herself.
Buck Halliday watched each item of clothing drop from her body until she stood in front of him. Then he reached up and pulled her slowly toward him ...
The lawman stood on the opposite boardwalk and looked up at the rooming house window. He saw Buck Halliday standing at the window, smoking a cigarette. He lifted an arm and waved, and Halliday waved back. Then the curtains were drawn shut by a slender hand.
Chuckling despite himself, the lawman went on his way, knowing that for the moment there were at least two happy people in his town ...
About the Author
Adam Brady was one of many pseudonyms used by prolific Australian writer Desmond Robert Dunn (6 November 1929-5 May 2003). In addition to four crime novels published under his own name, Des was a tireless western writer whose career spanned more than fifty years and well in excess of 400 oaters. These quick-moving, vivid and always compelling stories appeared under such pen-names as Shad Denver, Gunn Halliday, Sheldon B. Cole, Brett Iverson, Matt Cregan, Walt Renwick and Morgan Culp. He is also said to have written a number of the ever-popular Larry Kent P.I. novels, but at this late date author attribution is almost impossible. He married and divorced twice, and had three children. He died at the age of 73 in Brisbane, Queensland.
The Halliday Series by Adam Brady
Halliday
Fury of the .44
Ride for the Devil
Why Men Die
The Drifting Breed
Born to be Wild
Name Your Bounty
Only the Fastest
… And more to come!
But the adventure doesn’t end here …
Join us for more first-class, action-packed books.
Regular updates feature on our website and blog
The Adventures continue…
The Home of Great Western Fiction!
Adam Brady, Halliday 8
