.44 Caliber Man (10 page)

Looking at the
crowd hovering before the saloon’s front entrance, Dusty gave up
any idea of using it. Swiftly he thought over what he remembered
about the layout of the building. There was a side door along the
alley he was approaching. Entering that way would be quicker and
more unexpected than trying to charge through the men and women on
the sidewalk.

With Dusty, to
think was to act. However he always thought first. Swerving around
the corner, he sprinted down the alley. So far he had not drawn his
Colts and decided against doing it until after he knew whether the
door was locked. Trying it would be inviting trouble, so Dusty took
the more obvious step of assuming the key had been turned.

Dropping his
left shoulder, he gathered himself for the effort. Then he charged
forward, throwing every ounce of weight and atom of strength in his
small, powerful body at the door. He struck the wood, feeling it
yielding under the impact. For a moment he thought that the door
would hold. With a click, the lock snapped apart and the door swung
inwards. Carried by his impetus, Dusty plunged into the
barroom.

Lining his gun
at April, Manuel stalked closer. He guessed that he had little time
to kill the woman and make good his escape, so he did not intend to
miss. Just as he prepared to squeeze the trigger, he heard a crash
and the side door burst open. Taking his eyes to the source of the
noise, the bandido saw Dusty Fog enter. Only it was not the small,
insignificant cowhand one usually saw. Somehow Dusty seemed to have
taken on size and heft, becoming a big, dangerous man.

Across flashed
Dusty’s right hand, closing on the bone handle of the left-side
Colt. All in one incredibly swift move, he slid the weapon from its
holster, cocked it, placed his finger on the trigger and touched
off a shot. Three-quarters of a second after the hand’s first
movement, a bullet spun through the seven-and-a-half inch barrel of
the Army Colt and punctured a hole between Manuel’s eyes.

Dusty shot
fast, without hesitation, for an instant kill. There could be no
reasoning with a vengeance-crazed Mexican bandido and any delay
might have proved fatal for the woman on the stairs. For all
Dusty’s speed, there was little margin to spare.

Even as the
bullet shattered into his brain, Manuel got off another shot. If
Dusty had delayed, it would have buried itself into April’s body.
However the .44 ball made the bandido stagger at the moment when
the hammer began to fall. Splinters flew from the stairs less than
an inch to her left. Then Manuel’s fingers opened and he crumpled
to the floor.

Slowly April
drew herself erect. Sucking in a deep breath, she tore her eyes
from Manuel and turned them in Dusty’s direction.

‘
Why’d he want to kill me?’ she asked.

‘
He’s one of the Flores gang,’ the small Texan explained.
‘You’d best come with me, ma’am.’

‘
Where to?’ she gulped, glancing to where the other employees
were coming through the front doors.

‘
Jeanie Schell’s house,’ Dusty replied. ‘If the rest of the
gang’s around, I reckon you’ll be safer there.’

‘
Bu—But I’m not dressed!’ April squealed, indicating the
nightgown under her robe.

‘
This’s no time to worry about female vanity, ma’am!’ Dusty
growled. ‘Let’s go.’

Following April
Hosman into the front room of the Schell house, Dusty found Mark
and Colin already there. The young Scot slumped in a chair at the
table, his head resting on his hands. Despite the urgency of the
situation, April had insisted on dressing before she accompanied
Dusty. Knowing how ‘good’ women usually regarded saloon-workers,
she figured being accepted by Ma Schell would prove hard enough
without rolling up in her revealing nightclothes.

‘
Where’s Lon, Mark?’ Dusty asked.

‘
He went down to the stage depot to warn Lou Temple,’ the blond
giant answered. ‘We got Kenny back here. The doctor’s with him
now.’

‘
He pushed me aside,’ Colin put in, his voice hoarse. ‘If he
hadn’t, he would still be all right.’

‘
Take is easy, Colin,’ Dusty said gently. ‘I don’t reckon
anybody blames you for what happened.’

‘
But it w—’

A knock on the
door caused Colin to chop off his words. At another time he might
have been interested in, or marveled at, the speed with which Mark
and Dusty each drew a revolver. Slowly the Scot turned his eyes
towards the door, watching the cautious manner in which Dusty went
towards it.

‘
Who is it?’ the small Texan called.

‘
Sheriff Lansing.’

Still holding
his Colt in the left hand, Dusty drew open the door. Strain showed
on Lansing’s fat face as he looked around the room. Holstering his
Colt, Dusty closed the door.

‘
How’s Kenny?’ Lansing inquired.

‘
The doctor’s working on him,’ Mark answered, dropping his
revolver into leather.

‘
It’s the Flores gang, ain’t it?’ the sheriff went
on.

‘
Sure,’ Dusty agreed. ‘They tried for Colin and Miss Hosman
here. Colin dropped one of ’em and I downed the other.’

Which, as
Lansing knew, still left fifteen or more of the gang to be
accounted for. Sucking in a nervous breath, he glanced at April
then studied the two Texans’ air of alert readiness.

‘
Reckon the rest of ’em’re in town, Cap’n Fog?’

‘
Could be, sheriff. I don’t see Tiburcio sending in just two
men. Happen you’re going to make the rounds, Mark, the Kid and I’ll
come with you.’

Such a thought
had not entered the sheriff’s head. In fact he had considered only
the possible danger to himself when hearing who was involved in the
shooting. Before Lansing could decide on an answer, one of the
bedroom doors opened and Ma came out. Her eyes went first to April,
then to Dusty.

‘
How is it, Ma?’ Dusty asked.

‘
He’ll live, but he’ll not be riding for a fair
spell.’

‘
Flores’ bunch’re after Miss Hosman as well as Colin,’ the
small Texan explained as Ma again looked at the blonde. ‘One of
them tried to kill her at the Black Bear, I figured she’d be safer
here.’

‘
You could be right,’ Ma admitted. ‘Make yourself to home,
girlie. It’s likely not what you’re used to, but it’ll beat getting
killed.’

‘
Reckon you can tend to things here, Ma?’ Dusty
asked.

‘
I reckon I can. Why?’

‘
Could be the rest of the gang’re around town. Sheriff here’ll
need company when he goes to take a look.’

Knowing
Lansing, Ma figured that the suggestion to search the town had not
originated from him. However she wasted no time in debating the
matter. Backed by Dusty Fog, the Ysabel Kid and that big, handsome
Mark Counter, the sheriff should be able to chase the Flores gang
out of town. So she nodded her agreement.

‘
It’ll be best. Can you handle a gun, girlie?’

‘
You load it, put it in my hands, set a bandido up not too far
in front of it and I’ll give it a whirl. And the name’s “April”,
“Girlie’s” the fat red head.’

A grin twisted
at Ma’s lips. ‘I allus wondered about that. Make yourself to home
while I get the scatter from my bedroom.’

‘
Mrs. Schell,’ Colin put in, lifting his head and turned a
worried face to Ma. ‘I—I don’t know what to say to you. It was all
my fault. Kenny pushed me aside and—’

‘
He allus was one for acting reckless,’ Ma replied, walking to
the Scot’s side and laying a hand on his shoulder. ‘Now don’t go
fretting boy. None of us blame you for what happened. Back on the
stage, they’d’ve killed all of you happen you hadn’t give the Kid a
chance to start fighting. And today Vicente Flores wouldn’t’ve
stopped just by shooting you, he’d’ve killed Kenny and anybody else
who got in his way.’

‘
Ma’s right on that,’ Mark put in, checking his Colts. ‘Are you
set to go, sheriff?’

‘
Do you have a gun I can borrow, Mrs. Schell?’ Colin asked
before Lansing answered the question. ‘I want to go with Dusty and
Mark.’

‘
Take that one,’ Ma replied, waving a hand in the direction of
the fireplace and crossing to enter her bedroom.

Rising, Colin
walked over to the fireplace. Although Ma had meant for him to take
the Sharps carbine, Colin misunderstood her. Instead, he lifted the
ivory-handled Dragoon Colt from the wall. After shooting Vicente,
Colin had suddenly realized that he held an empty pistol, a weapon
which required considerable time to reload. So he felt that, if he
must be involved in further fighting, he needed a firearm carrying
more than two shots. The big Dragoon Colt was not unknown to him.
Its maker, Colonel Sam Colt, was a salesman of note and did not
overlook the British Isles as a market for his products. Several of
Colin’s uncles were army officers and had bought the big revolvers
to carry as a side arm. The young Scot had done enough shooting
with one to figure he could handle the Dragoon from above the
fireplace.

Just as Colin
took down the gun, Jeanie walked from Kenny’s bedroom where she had
been helping the doctor. Letting out an indignant yell, she stamped
across in Colin’s direction.

‘
What in hell’re you doing?’ she hissed.

‘
Ma said Colin could take a gun, Jeanie,’ Dusty said, for Colin
just stood and stared at the girl’s furious face.

‘
Not that gun!’ Jeanie hissed.

‘
I thought it would be a better weapon—’ Colin
began.

‘
What do you know about weapons?’ Jeanie interrupted hotly.
‘That was my pappy’s gun. He was a forty-four caliber man. He never
needed anybody to—’

‘
That’s enough!’

Having heard
Jeanie’s comments from the bedroom, Ma burst into her daughter’s
presence and snapped out a command that halted further comment. The
last thing Ma wanted was to increase Colin’s concern at causing
Kenny to be wounded. If Jeanie finished her words, Colin would know
why Kenny happened to be along with him. Ma could imagine how the
young Scot would feel then.

To be fair to
her, Jeanie was not acting out of spite or petty meanness. Still
smarting under the memory of her Uncle Jabez’s behavior, she was
extra touchy about her father’s memory and property. That, combined
with worry and anger at Kenny’s injury brought on her outburst. She
was already regretting her words when Ma appeared, but the
intervention only gave the girl’s contrary streak an added
stiffness.

‘
He’s no right to use pappy’s gun!’ Jeanie insisted.

‘
I’ve never slapped you down in front of folks,’ Ma growled,
face burning red with annoyance. ‘But, happen you don’t shut up,
I’ll make a start.’

‘
Mrs. Schell,’ Colin said. ‘I’ll use the carbine.’

‘
You can take the Colt if you want it,’ Ma replied, and
although she stiffened slightly, Jeanie did not speak.

‘
The wee rifle’ll be good enough, ma’am,’ Colin assured her.
‘If you’ll be so good as to let me have bullets for it.’

‘
It’s capped ready,’ Ma said. ‘I’ll get you a box of
cartridges.’

While her
mother returned to the bedroom, Jeanie stood glaring at Colin.
Fully aware that Ma did not make idle threats, and more than a
little ashamed at her own behavior, the girl knew better than to
continue her attack. Realizing that she was in the wrong did little
to make Jeanie feel more amiable to Colin. Instead she regarded his
silence and Ma’s intervention as further proof of his lack of
masculinity. It seemed that somebody else was always having to
finish the trouble he had started.

Taking the box
of paper cartridges Ma brought from the bedroom, Colin thanked her
and turned to Jeanie.

‘
I’m sorry, M—’

Letting out an
indignant snort, the girl tossed her head. She turned and went into
Kenny’s bedroom, started to slam the door, realized what she was
doing and grabbed at the handle. Completing the closing in silence,
she gave an annoyed hiss. That fancy-dressed dude had the damnedest
way of putting a burr under her saddle.

‘
Come on, amigo’ Dusty said gently to Colin and then looked at
Lansing. ‘We’re ready, sheriff. Where do we start?’

Which put
Lansing in an awkward position. Appointed by the Davis
Administration, he held his post on political rather than
efficiency grounds. Faced with a serious situation, he had no idea
how to deal with it. Up until the question, he had assumed that
Dusty Fog would take command and was content to go along in a
subordinate capacity.

‘
I—We’ll go through the greaser section,’ the sheriff decided
after a brief pause to marshal his thoughts. ‘I reckon the Flores
bunch’d be hid out with their own kind.’

‘
Could be,’ Dusty admitted and opened the door. ‘Will you be
all right, Ma?’

‘
If we ain’t, we’ll let you know,’ Ma promised.

‘
Especially if I get that scatter-gun I was promised,’ April
remarked.

‘
I’ll fetch it now,’ Ma grunted. ‘All this talking’s made me
forget it.’

As the men went
on to the porch, they found the Kid and Temple approaching. Each of
the men looked well-armed. In addition to their belt guns, they
both carried two rifles. The Kid had his Winchester in his right
hand and a shorter version of it in the left, while Temple toted a
Spencer carbine and another of the new model Winchesters.