Read Gunsmith #361 : The Letter of the Law (9781101553657) Online

Authors: J. R. Roberts

Gunsmith #361 : The Letter of the Law (9781101553657) (13 page)

BOOK: Gunsmith #361 : The Letter of the Law (9781101553657)
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“What do you have against Indians?”
“You mean savages who scalp people?”
“Have you had any dealings with Indians?” Garver asked.
“Not much.”
“Well, for the most part, they're not so bad. I mean, considering we've stolen their land and forced them onto reservations.”
“Well, it ain't just the Indians.”
“What else is there?”
“Judge Parker, and his deputies.”
“We ain't done nothin' in the Territories,” Garver said. “There ain't a reason for Judge Parker to be after us.”
“The way I hear it, he ain't got to have a good reason to hang a body.”
“So then why go into Arkansas?” Garver asked. “You'd be right in Parker's backyard.”
“I'm just gonna ride through, and keep goin',” Wycliffe said.
“East? Ain't nothin' there.”
“There is if you got enough money.”
“Well,” Garver said, “we got a lot.”
“Yeah, about that,” Wycliffe said. “Don't you think it's time we split? Or were you hopin' I'd catch a stray bullet and you wouldn't have to.”
“Why do you have to be like that, Wycliffe?” Garver asked. “Sure, we can split the money up now.”
Garver grabbed his saddlebags and pulled them over, prepared to stick his hand inside.
“Hold it.”
Garver stopped. “You thinkin' I've got a gun in there?” “You never know.”
“I'm wearing a gun,” Garver said. “If I was going to kill you, I'd just go for it.”
“Maybe,” Wycliffe said. He pressed his hands to Garver's saddlebags, but didn't feel the bulge of a gun in either one.
“Okay,” he said, sitting back.
“I don't know what I did to make you so suspicious, Wycliffe,” Garver said.
“Maybe it's the fact that you killed Stanford,” Wycliffe said. “Or maybe I'm just naturally suspicious.”
Garver took the money from the saddlebags and, by the light of the campfire, counted it and divided it.
“That's forty-four thousand, eight hundred—each,” he said.
Wycliffe collected his part and stuffed it into his own saddlebags.
“We better stand watch,” Garver said, stuffing his money back into his saddlebags. “I'll take the first and wake you in four hours.”
“That's fine with me,” Wycliffe said.
He took his saddlebags with him and cradled them while he lay down on his blanket and bedroll.
Both men slept that way, but neither of them got much rest that night.
 
Kelly woke Clint in the morning, with a fresh pot of coffee going.
“How are you doing?” Clint asked.
“I'm breathin',” Kelly said. “Thanks for the advice yesterday. I couldn't see past all the dead men.”
Clint didn't think the foreman-turned-lawman was being entirely sincere.
“I don't expect you to forget the dead men, Kelly,” he said. “Just tuck them away in the back of your mind until we finish this job.”
“Oh, it's a job?”
“As long as you're wearing that badge, it's a job.”
“Well then—” Kelly reached for the badge, and Clint stopped him before he could take it off.
“Leave it on!” he snapped. “You're a duly sworn lawman representing Adobe Walls. If you take it off now, who'll know? And you'd be leaving them without a sheriff.”
Kelly stared at Clint, then asked, “Am I gonna get a chance to kill Garver?”
“Yes.”
“Then okay,” he said. “I'll do it your way.”
“Good,” Clint said. “I'll get the horses while you kill the fire and put away the pot.”
THIRTY-SEVEN
Garver and Wycliffe rode together to the border between Texas and the Indian Territories.
“This is where we part company,” Wycliffe said.
“Are you sure you want to do that?” Garver asked. He hated to see that other $44,800 leaving him behind.
“It's been fun, Garver,” Wycliffe said, “but you're on your own now.”
“Okay,” Garver said, “if that's the way you want it.”
“You go first,” Wycliffe said.
“You really think I'd shoot you in the back?” Garver asked.
“I don't know,” Wycliffe said, “why don't we ask Stanford?”
“I'm hurt, Wycliffe,” Garver said. “I made you my partner, and I made you rich, and this is the thanks I get?”
“I'm real grateful, Garver,” Wycliffe said. “but you go first.”
“Okay,” Garver said with a shrug. “See ya, Wycliffe.”
Wycliffe watched his partner—his former partner—ride north toward the Indian Territories. He watched Garver until he was out of sight before he felt safe enough to ride east toward Arkansas.
 
Clint and Kelly got an early start. Clint figured by the tracks that they were about six hours behind Garver and his partner. He was pleased when they came upon the two men's camp five hours later.
“We're getting closer,” he told Kelly.
“Five hours? That's closer?”
“It's closer than I thought we were,” Clint told him. “That's what I care about.”
“Then we should get goin',” Kelly said.
“Wait.”
Clint walked around the camp, looking at the ground. He reached into the ashes of the cold fire and came out with something he showed Kelly.
“Bank bands from around the money,” he said.
“Did they burn the money?” Kelly asked.
“No,” Clint said, “they made their split here.”
“And they stayed together?”
“Looks like it.”
Clint mounted up. “Okay, let's get moving.”
“Don't hold back because of my horse,” Kelly told him. “We'll move at your pace.”
Clint decided not to argue. Kelly would have to prove that he could keep up.
Several hours later, Clint reined Eclipse in and looked behind him. Kelly and his horse had fallen well behind, and he waited for them to catch up.
“Don't say it,” Kelly said. “I know my horse can't keep up with yours, but come on. Your horse is a monster.”
“Don't I know it,” Clint said. “So what's the point of me moving at my pace if I have to wait for you to catch up?”
“You're right.”
“So we'll move at your pace, and we'll still catch up to them. And we won't run your horse into the ground.”
“Agreed.”
“Good.”
They started off again at a more reasonable pace for Kelly and his horse.
 
Clint halted their progress several hours later.
“What's wrong?”
“The Indian Territories are over that hill,” Clint said. “Arkansas is that way.”
“Where did they go?”
Clint stepped down from his horse and walked around.
“They split up here,” Clint said. “One that way, one that way.” He pointed to the Territories, and to Arkansas.
“So we split up?”
“Wait,” Clint said. “I was never convinced that Garver was a true lawman. Given what he's done since then, I am convinced that he's a true outlaw.”
“Meanin'?”
“Meanin' I want to travel each of these trails for a short time.”
“And?”
“And that'll tell us something.”
“What?”
“Let's find out.”
 
They followed the trail that led to Arkansas for an hour and then Clint stopped.
“Well, we're not going to have to follow the trail to the Territories,” he said.
“Why not?”
He pointed to the ground.
“I say it was Garver who headed for the Territories,” Clint said. “He went north for a while, then he doubled back. Right here he came back.”
“He joined up with the other man again?” Kelly asked.
“No,” Clint said, “he's following the other man.”
“Followin'?” Kelly looked confused. “Why?”
“Because, like I thought,” Clint said, “he can't bear to see any of that money get away from him.”
“So he's followin' his partner to rob him?”
“Bushwhack him,” Clint said, “kill him, and take all the money.”
“Sonofabitch.”
“That must have been his plan all along.”
“Wait,” Kelly asked, “what about Little Jim? Why let him walk with his share?”
“I don't know, but I'll guess,” Clint said. “I think he knew Jim was going back to town. He figured he'd be caught, his end of the take would be recovered, and maybe he hoped that the bank, and the town, would be happy with that.”
“But they ain't,” Kelly said, “and we ain't.”
“That's right.”
“So we're back on the trail of the two of them?” Kelly asked.
“Yes, but one of them is hunting the other one.”
“Good,” Kelly said. “I just hope they don't kill each other before we catch 'em. I want the pleasure of killin' one of them myself—especially Garver.”
“We'll follow this trail,” Clint said, “and take what we get.”
 
Wycliffe knew he was being followed. What he didn't know was if it was a posse, or it was Garver. He wouldn't have put it past Garver to track him and try to take the money back from him.
But it could have been a posse. He had two choices. Run and try to put some distance between them, or stop, hide, and wait to see who it was.
He had to make up his mind.
THIRTY-EIGHT
Garver decided to take it slow.
He had drifted back in a southeasterly direction and picked up Wycliffe's trail, but he was in no hurry to catch up to his former partner. Better to lull him into a false sense of security, and then catch him off guard.
He would have preferred to end up with all the money, but allowing Little Jim to return to Adobe Walls was a calculated risk. Hopefully, the bank would be satisfied with 25 percent of their money back, and the law would be happy with Little Jim.
On the other hand, Little Jim might have killed whoever had initially replaced him as sheriff, and the town was still trying to find yet another replacement.
He stared down at Wycliffe's tracks. He was only about an hour ahead of him. He could close the gap anytime he wanted to. He had to decide whether he wanted Wycliffe to know he was taking the money from him, or simply ambush him so that he never knew what hit him.
“I don't understand what these tracks tell you,” Kelly said.
They were each on one knee as Clint tried to give Kelly at least a rudimentary lesson in tracking.
“See the first track—”
“Okay, there,” Kelly said, cutting him off. “How can you tell which one came first?”
“Because the tracker—I'm guessing Garver—is not being careful. See, his track overlaps the other. He's still following, and while both sets of tracks are hours old, I think Garver is still an hour or two behind his prey.”
“Why doesn't he just bushwhack him and get it over with?”
“I think he wants to drag it out,” Clint said, standing up. Kelly also stood. They both brushed dirt from their hands.
“Why?”
“He's probably trying to make up his mind.”
“About what?”
“A man like Garver is bound to want his former partner to know it's him taking the money from him. He'd rather do that and see the look on his face than shoot him in the back and take it.”
“Is this about his ego?”
BOOK: Gunsmith #361 : The Letter of the Law (9781101553657)
4.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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