The Raiders, page 10
His first warning was a splash of red showing briefly through a small gap in the mesquite. He knew it was Mullane’s red shirt but where was Turner? If he turned his head to look to the other side, he was sure that one or both of the raiders would detect the movement. He could only hope that Turner had not already seen him.
Mullane crept closer and Hewitt cocked his gun so that the sound would not betray him later. He concentrated on the shrubbery. Mesquite does not have thick foliage and he soon picked up his man again. He was closer now but still too far for accurate pistol shooting.
Wilcox had stopped shooting. For all the lawman knew, he too might have been stealing towards him, having discovered his deception. He was thankful that the large clump of cactus offered better concealment for him than the mesquite through which his enemies would have to approach.
When he glimpsed movement again Hewitt was amazed at how close Mullane had managed to get without being seen. He was barely twenty yards away but was looking in the wrong direction. The raider was still stalking the lawman’s first position in the red boulders.
Hewitt no longer felt obliged to issue any warning. He sighted on the unsuspecting raider and squeezed the trigger.
At that moment Mullane moved slightly and the bullet that should have knocked him out of the fight merely burned across the back of his left shoulder. His reaction was swift.
A bullet tore through a fleshy cactus splashing juice on its intended target who was barely inches from it. But Hewitt had the bigger target. His next shot tore through Mullane’s upper arm, smashing it. The gun fell from Mullane’s hand but in desperation he snatched it up with his left hand and turned once more to face his attacker. This action presented the deputy with a bigger target and he did not miss. He saw the gun fly from the raider’s hand as a bullet ploughed into his chest. Satisfied that one opponent was out of the fight, Hewitt looked for the others.
Turner was not hard to find. He came charging in from the right dodging around obstacles and jumping others in his rush to get into effective range while Hewitt was distracted. The long-barrelled Smith & Wesson in his hand spat lead as he ran. Fortunately for the lawman, a running man does not shoot a revolver very well. One slug kicked up dirt a foot or so from where Hewitt crouched but the two that followed went wide.
By contrast, the deputy was shooting from a stable position and had no difficulty in sending a slug into the raider’s midriff. Turner staggered as though he had hit an invisible wall, doubled over and fell. Though seriously wounded he had the presence of mind to fire another shot at his opponent before rolling behind a low rocky outcrop.
Hewitt took a chance and switched his attention back to where he could see Wilcox standing near the boulders where he had left his rifle. The range was too great for accurate shooting but he fired the remaining cartridges at the man to ensure that he kept his distance. The shots had the desired effect and Wilcox disappeared behind cover. Leaving one fully loaded gun in easy reach, the lawman worked quickly to punch out the empty shells and fully reload the weapon he had just emptied. Much of the operation he did by feel because he had wounded enemies both within effective pistol range and he had to keep watching for signs that one or the other might resume the fight. He thought Mullane was dead but could not be sure. He was the type who would remain dangerous as long as he was conscious and able to pick up a gun.
He knew that he had reduced the odds against him but Hewitt was only too aware of how fortunes could change for the one who made a mistake.
CHAPTER TWENTY
‘Clint,’ Wilcox’s voice floated across the com-paratively open ground, ‘can you see him?’
The effort of shouting would hurt but Hewitt could not resist calling back. ‘I doubt that he’s seeing anything, John. Surrender while you still can.’
‘You don’t sound too good yourself, Pete. I reckon you could be carrying a slug in you. Given enough time you might pass out and I can just walk over there and take that horse— Don’t be a fool. Mullane and Turner are both carrying a lot of money. You don’t have to tell anyone about it. Let me have that horse and you can claim that I got away with all the loot from the raid.’
‘Forget it, John. I haven’t been hit by any bullets and when it comes to gun fights I reckon I’ve had more practice than you. You haven—’
A gunshot interrupted Hewitt and a spray of dirt and stones stung his face as a bullet struck the bank in front of him. He twisted to see Turner on hands and knees cocking his gun for a second shot. If the shooter had not been so badly wounded, the first shot would have killed the lawman. With a violently shaking hand, the raider raised his gun again. But Hewitt shot first. Turner’s supporting arm collapsed and he fell forward on his face. This time he really was out of the fight.
By the time that Hewitt switched his gaze back toward Wilcox, the latter had fled the scene. He reappeared briefly from around some boulders, too far away to try a chance shot. Then he ran behind a couple more big rocks and the lawman lost sight of him.
He was stiff and sore and it took the deputy a while to get to his feet but this time he took no chances. Although Wilcox was increasing his lead, he took his time and checked to ensure that both Mullane and Turner were dead. He also collected their six-shooters and concealed them under some bushes. There was always the possibility that Wilcox might double back and seek to use the weapons against him.
Walking was not easy in his present state so Hewitt went to where he had left his horse. This time he would hunt his man on horseback and the extra height would enable him to see over some of the lower mesquite and cactus. That was the theory, but suddenly the everyday effort of mounting a horse seemed to be beyond him. He tried to lift his foot to the stirrup and found that he could not. Surprised by such weakness, he led the horse to a dry wash so that he could stand on the bank and mount from there. The horse was restless and moved about as he tried to get his foot into the stirrup but he eventually succeeded. It took all his strength to swing his right leg over the animal’s rump and the sore side pained the lawman sharply as he settled into the saddle. It was then that he saw the other riders approaching.
There were three of them and the small figure on the black pony looked familiar even at a distance. He turned his horse towards the newcomers. Soon there was no doubt as to their identity. Sue was cantering towards him and Bob Cullinane and his half-breed stable hand were riding with her.
‘Sue,’ he called as the riders got closer. ‘What in tarnation are you doing here?’
‘I brought you a posse. You know Bob and Charley here used to scout for the army. He tracked you for us. You look awful. We passed a couple of loose horses back on the road. What’s been happening?’
‘Wilcox met a couple of the raiders here. They wouldn’t surrender and I had to kill two of them. Wilcox has bolted into the rocks over there. He’s on foot but he’s armed. I want you to stay well out of this, Sue. Keep on your horse and wait over here.’
‘Not so fast,’ the girl said sternly. ‘If I hadn’t been keeping an eye on you, you could have been in a whole lot of trouble around about now. And I want a few answers. Before you left town in such a hurry, you told me that John Wilcox killed my father. I want to know why.’
‘Wilcox turned the guard’s shotgun into a bomb by placing a twenty-gauge cartridge in each barrel. They are just big enough to be caught at the end of the firing chamber and it is possible to load a twelve-gauge cartridge in behind them without seeing them in the gun. That’s why twelve- and twenty-gauge cartridges should never be stored together. A man in a hurry can mistake a twenty for a twelve and someone else thinking the gun is empty can put another cartridge behind it. Wilcox was with me when I found the base of a twenty-gauge shell near the scene of the fight and guessed that I might start asking questions. I’m pretty sure he killed your father because he would remember selling him the cartridges needed to doctor the gun.’
‘But if you knew this, why didn’t you arrest him?’ There was anger in the girl’s tone.
‘I wasn’t sure who had bought those cartridges and was looking around for evidence. I didn’t know for sure what had really happened until the raiders caught me for a while out at Prospector’s Creek. I knew they were exchanging signals with someone in town but was not sure who until Wilcox panicked and ran.’
Cullinane was looking at the rocks ahead, hoping to see the fugitive, but he was listening. ‘So you reckon Wilcox planned the raid as well?’
Hewitt nodded grimly. ‘He not only planned it. I think he actually took part in it. From the side door of his office he could see into the street. I think he might have shot the sheriff and the bank clerk. Men shooting from galloping horses don’t shoot all that well and from what I can gather, they were shot from an odd angle. Witnesses all agreed there was so much shooting and commotion that another couple of shots would not have been noticed.’
Charley moved his wad of chewing tobacco to the other side of his jaw and spat. ‘That murderin’—’ Then he remembered Sue’s presence and abruptly fell silent.
‘Were you about to call him a murdering son of a bitch?’ the girl asked. ‘Because if you were, Charley, the description fits him exactly.’
Cullmane roared laughing but Charley looked shocked. He had never heard a respectable lady use such language.
‘I worked a lot with Ross Anderson,’ the half-breed muttered. ‘He was a mighty good sheriff. It ain’t right him getting bushwhacked like that.’
Cullinane brought them back to the present. ‘Just how do you suggest we go after Wilcox?’ he asked Hewitt.
The deputy looked about at the landscape, paused a while, then said, ‘If you agree, Charley, we will get you to track him. Bob and I will keep an eye out for Wilcox. Don’t go round any blind corners. If you come to one, I’ll go round first. Then you can pick up the tracks again. We can leave the horses here with Sue.’
‘You’re not getting rid of me that easily. I can shoot and I have brought a rifle along. I want to have a few words with John Wilcox.’
Hewitt did not approve and told her, ‘Bob and I have to protect Charley while he is tracking and we can’t do that properly if we are continually looking to see that you are not in danger. You are a real help holding the horses but are only a problem if you insist on going after Wilcox yourself.’
Sue did not like the situation but realized the sense of the lawman’s words. ‘All right, I’ll stay here and keep out of the way,’ she snapped angrily.
Wilcox had been close to despair when the other riders arrived. He recognized Charley’s distinctive pinto pony from a fair distance away and knew that the half-breed could follow a track like a human hound. He could see that his pursuers were in no hurry. They did not need to be. He really had nowhere to go. At first he fled around the base of the butte but then he was confronted by miles of open country where it would be simple to track him. Outnumbered and on foot he would have no chance. Then he looked at the rock towering above him. If he could get above his hunters there might still be a chance of escape.
Stepping from one exposed section of rock to another, he found a fissure in the rocky wall that allowed him to begin his climb. At first there were plenty of handholds and footholds and the rock was not as steep as it had first appeared. About thirty feet up, he was surprised to find a ledge that ran around the corner of the butte. It was wide enough for him to crawl along without being visible from the ground.
Peering round the edge of a rock, he saw the posse some distance away on the flat ground. There were four horses guarded by one person and three men on foot were walking cautiously toward his place of sanctuary. There was no mistaking the bulky figure of Half-Breed Charley, slightly in advance of the other two. He knew that one of them was Hewitt and the other looked like Charley’s boss, Bob Cullinane. None of the approaching trio was looking up at his hiding place.
His options were limited but Wilcox hoped that if he could kill the deputy, the others might be scared off sufficiently for him to descend and try to capture a horse. With Hewitt out of the way and the offer of wealth, the others might even be prepared to do a deal. The plan was optimistic, he knew, but short of surrendering he had no other chance.
His first task was to get rid of the lawman.
Charley was looking about and pointing out the scuff marks in the soft red earth. ‘He’s been here and he’s been runnin’ hard. He’s one mighty scared hombre at present.’
Hewitt looked around. ‘Be careful, Charlie. The scared ones can be unpredictable. Just take your time and don’t take any risks. John Wilcox has killed too many good men already.’
‘He’s trying not to leave tracks,’ Charley said. ‘He’s staying on the rocks but he’ll step off somewhere and I’ll see where he does.’
‘I reckon he’s hiding around here somewhere,’ Cullinane said as he looked about. ‘Could be waiting to bushwhack us.’
The deputy agreed. ‘I reckon he is. He sure as hell is not running.’
Charley pointed to a piece of broken, crumbling rock and boot scrapes leading up to a narrow, sloping ledge. ‘He’s gone up. He’s like a bear in a tree. There’s nowhere else to go. We’ve got him now.’
Hewitt looked up and cupped his hands around his mouth. ‘Wilcox,’ he shouted. ‘Come down.’
The shout echoed back from the frowning red walls but there was no reply. The lawman looked upwards but saw nothing.
‘There’s no water up there,’ Cullinane said. ‘He’ll have a mighty dry time of it. He left town in a hurry so I reckon it’s been a while since he had a drink.’
Hewitt pushed back his hat and wiped a shirtsleeve over a sweaty forehead. ‘It’s too risky going up there after him. We’ll just have to wait till he comes down.’
Charley had another idea. ‘There could be another place somewhere around this butte where he can come down. Three of us can’t surround this whole place. It’s too big. It’s best if we get our horses and spread out a bit. When we are a way off we should be able to see him if he moves around the rock. There’s not many places where he can hide.’
‘What if he waits for dark and then tries to sneak down again?’ Cullinane asked.
The tracker shook his head. ‘That place is bad enough to climb round in daytime. There’s rotten rock everywhere. I figure he’s learned that by now and won’t dare try to escape in the dark. If he’s got a lick of sense, he’ll stay put once night falls. If we can keep him treed long enough, thirst will eventually drive him down.’
‘I’ll get the horses,’ Hewitt volunteered. ‘Then we can spread out and patrol around this butte keeping out of pistol range. We might even see where Wilcox is hiding.’
The deputy left the others and started walking around to the other side of the towering rocks. Much to his relief, Sue had followed orders and was waiting at a safe distance with the horses.
Thinking to save his aching body a bit of extra effort, the lawman stood on a rock and waved his hat to the girl as a signal to bring forward the horses.
Above him, concealed on a narrow ledge, Wilcox could not believe his luck. Hewitt was directly below him and totally unsuspecting. He leaned over the lip of the rocky shelf, cocked his revolver and sighted on the lawman below. Carefully his finger applied pressure to the trigger.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Hewitt was sure that Sue had gone crazy when he saw her suddenly snatch a rifle from the saddle scabbard on her pony and seemingly aim at him. He was jumping from his vantage point when he heard the rifle bullet whine off the face of the rock behind him. A shout of alarm, a clatter of falling rocks and a body crashing nearby added further to his state of confusion.
John Wilcox was sprawled on the ground a few paces away, face down and unmoving. Not far away lay a revolver, still cocked, that had survived the fall without discharging. Hewitt checked for signs of life but found none. The dead man’s skull and the awkward angle of his head indicated that he had fallen head first on to the rocks below him.
Sue was approaching at the gallop, towing the other horses behind her. Cullinane and Charley had both sprinted back and all seemed to arrive simultaneously.
The girl flung herself from the saddle and ran to Hewitt. ‘Pete, are you all right? I was frightened that Wilcox would shoot you before I could fire. I saw him just in time.’ She glanced at the body and shuddered. ‘I didn’t want to kill him but I couldn’t let him shoot you.’
Hewitt put an arm around her. ‘You saved my life,’ he said as he held her close. ‘But you didn’t kill him. The fall did that. Your shot missed him but must have scared him into making a wrong move and a bit of that ledge gave way. You can see there’s some rock that came down with him.’
Cullinane smiled and told Sue, ‘Looks like you saved us having to get a new lawman. That was good work.’
Hewitt said ruefully, ‘You might need a new lawman. I must be getting careless.’
‘That’s the trouble with white men,’ Charley joked. ‘They never look up. You’re lucky to have this little gal looking after you.’
‘I know that. I wonder if she’d take on the job on a permanent basis.’
‘Looks like it’s all over with the Appsley raiders now,’ Cullinane observed.
Hewitt shook his head ‘There were four men involved. We have only accounted for three. There’s another one to find.’
‘So what happens now?’ Sue asked.
‘If you will look after the horses, the rest of us will search the bodies and get them all into one place. Then, if you and Bob go back to town and arrange for a wagon to come out for the bodies, I’ll try to talk Charley here into backtracking Turner and Mullane. I need to find what happened to the fourth man. If you see those loose horses on the way back to town, you could pick them up too. There might be something in the saddle-bags that is useful to this case.’ Hewitt turned to Charley. ‘Will you help me out with a bit of tracking?’
