Stampede at Rattlesnake Pass (13 page)

It was dark inside after the brightness of
the morning sun. A solitary bartender was unstacking chairs in
readiness for the start of the day’s business.

"I'm afraid that we ain't open yet, gents,"
he said.

"Well, I reckon you'll open for us," said
Slim Parfitt, wiping the back of his hand across his parched lips.
"Make it whiskey for five."

The bartender was a tall thin man with a
long nose and defiant eyes. "I reckon not. It isn’t allowed in
Tucksville for another half hour."

Slim Parfitt tapped his star. "Don’t you see
who I am?" he said pompously. "I am Sheriff Slim Parfitt of Silver
City and I am in charge of this posse here."

"Still no whiskey," returned the bartender.
"Isn’t that right, Deputy McCaid?"

All five turned as a small, tubby man of
about fifty with pebble-thick wire framed spectacles stepped
through the bat-wing doors. The pose members looked disdainfully at
the slightly comedic figure standing before them in a shirt
buttoned up to the collar and with a crudely made deputy marshal
badge pinned to a waistcoat, which strained over his paunch.

"That is certainly correct, Amos. No
drinking at this time of the day. Marshal Matt Brooks won’t
countenance it at all."

"The hell with that!" exclaimed Sheriff
Parfitt. "Now you just look here, Deputy whatever-your-name is, I'm
the sheriff of Silver City and I am aiming to take a murdering dog
by the name of Jake Scudder into custody."

"Do you know that he is in Tucksville?"
Deputy McCaid asked, peering myopically from one to the other of
the posse.

"That is his black stallion hitched out
there."

"This Jake Scudder. Is he a young Apache
kid?"

Slow understanding crept across Parfitt’s
face, which colored rapidly with ire. "Nantan! He's been playing
games with us! I’ll kill him! Come on, men."

And as one they all rushed past the deputy
into the street.

Nantan was now leaning against a post on the
opposite boardwalk, smiling at them.

"Nantan! You damned well suckered us,"
snarled Slim Parfitt. "Well, we're gonna teach you a lesson you'll
never forget. Get him, boys."

Another voice entered the fray. "Hold it
right there. You and your men will teach nobody anything in this
town, Slim Parfitt. And don’t even think of going for your guns.
Any of you."

All five of the posse swiveled around to see
the tall, capable-looking figure of Marshal Matt Brooks. He was
standing with his feet apart and with his hands hanging casually by
his sides.

"Marshal Brooks," hissed Slim Parfitt. "I
know you and you know me. I am the sheriff of Silver City and I
have reason to believe that Nantan feller there has been
obstructing me in the execution of my duty. He has helped a known
murderer escape my posse. I am therefore taking him in."

Matt Brooks shook his head. "And I repeat –
not in my town. You have no jurisdiction here."

A large crowd had been gathering on the
boardwalks as people slowly emerged from stores and offices to see
what all the raised voices were about.

Sheriff Parfitt’s face was now flushed with
rage. "Do you think you can stop five of us all by yourself,
Brooks?"

Deputy Samuel McCaid had circled the group
and now stood a few feet away from Matt Brooks.

"There are two of us here, in case you
didn’t notice. Me and my deputy."

The five men stared at the middle-aged
deputy with the thick lensed spectacles and all made sneering
noises.

"That isn’t polite," said Matt Brooks. Then
with a nod to his deputy, he said: "I reckon these men could do
with a little lesson in manners. How about it, Samuel."

None of the posse was ready for the blur of
movement that followed. And the crowd of onlookers would spread the
word, so that it grew into a local legend. Such is the way in towns
like Tucksville.

Marshal Matt Brooks was fast and before
anyone could account for it a gun had appeared in his hand. Yet his
speed was as nothing compared to his deputy, Samuel McCaid. His
blue steel Colts had seemed to jump into his hands and five shots
rang out before any of the posse had moved a muscle. With each shot
a little cloud of dust rose from between each of the posse members’
feet.

Marshal Brooks smiled. "Allow me to
introduce my deputy, Samuel McCaid, formerly known as Pebble-eye
McCaid, the scourge of the badlands." He raised his gun. "And like
I said, you have no jurisdiction in this town, so I don’t take
kindly to you throwing your weight around. But threatening a
citizen and two of the town’s lawmen cannot be allowed."

"Now you just – " began Slim Parfitt.

"Quiet there while the marshal is talking,"
snapped Deputy McCaid.

"Thank you, Samuel," returned Matt Brooks.
Then to the posse: "All of you shuck your weapons and then make
your way over to the town jail. Pebble-eye will look after
you."

As the disarmed posse members filed along
the street, Deputy McCaid grinned and whispered to his
constable:

"First real life sheriff I ever locked up.
This will be kind of fun."

Matt Brooks patted him on the arm and
grinned as the bemused and amazed crowd followed the deputy and his
captives down the street, everyone full of awe and renewed respect
for the man they had previously thought of as a joke.

Matt Brooks looked up at the impassive
Nantan and gestured for him to join him. "I guess that you and I
ought to have a little chat," he said.

* * *

When Jake Scudder regained consciousness he
found that his hands were tied and that he had been dumped
unceremoniously in a swivel chair beside a desk. Elly was sitting
beside Johnnie Parker who was lying on a couch, and Saul and the
big Yucatan were both sitting with their hands tied in front of
them. Saul Horrocks looked exceedingly gaunt and dispirited in his
wheelchair.

"So this is the guy who has caused so much
trouble," sneered Rubal Cage, lashing out with his fist and
catching Jake across the face.

Jake shook his head to clear his vision. He
blinked and found himself looking at three people who were standing
with guns in their hands. He recognized Carmen de Menendez and the
rustler Cole Lancing.

"And you must be Rubal Cage," Jake returned,
speaking directly to the black-clad man who had struck him. "I've
heard a lot about you. You worked for the neighboring ranch until
you were fired."

Saul Horrocks interjected, "He is a
treacherous dog. Jeb Jackson recognized his type and threw him
out."

Rubal Cage’s lip curled. "Yes, but look who
has the upper hand here – and all the cards. We have the money for
your herd, we’ve got you – and we are about to reel in the most
important prize of all."

Jake nodded his head. "I guess that means
you expect to get the Double J ranch somehow. Maybe by somehow
getting hold of the rancher himself."

Carmen de Menendez smiled. "For a murderer
you are a clever man, Jake Scudder. And just how did you know this?
How did you work it out?"

Jake nodded his head at Elly and Saul.
"Before we left for Silver City I learned all about the ranches
around here. It seems that the Double J ranch is the biggest and
therefore the wealthiest in this territory. That has to be why you
kidnapped Elly – you planned to ransom her, but not to Saul. You
planned to ransom her to Jeb Jackson."

Rubal Cage glanced at Carmen de Menendez and
Cole Lancing. "Will you be okay watching them all while I go and
catch the big fish? I'll be back in half an hour at the most."

After he left, they all sat in silence while
Carmen de Menendez paced back and forth and Cole Lancing picked his
yellowed teeth. The big grandfather clock near the bureau ticked
away the seconds. After half an hour or so, Carmen de Menendez
broke the silence.

"Tell me, Jake Scudder, how did you manage
to escape the clutches of our esteemed sheriff of Silver City and
his posse?"

Jake gave her a wan smile. "One word –
Nantan."

The saloon owner snapped her fingers. "Ah, I
should have known that he was not as trustworthy as I thought." She
looked at Yucatan, who seemed uneasy under her regard. "It is
always a problem with him and his like."

Saul Horrocks eyed her sourly. "What sort of
a woman are you? Why have you come into our lives?"

Carmen de Menendez laughed, then blew
disdainfully through her ruby red lips. "And what sort of a life is
it that you have, Mister Saul Horrocks? Who are you to question me
when you can’t even – walk!"

Saul Horrocks’ hands trembled with rage,
occasioning further mirth from his captor.

"Miss Carmen," said Cole Lancing. "There’s a
rider coming fast. It looks like Rubal and he’s on his own."

When Rubal Cage appeared through the door a
few moments later Carmen de Menendez demanded of him: "Where is
Jackson?"

"He’s dead," Cage replied. "I shot the
bastard."

Carmen de Menendez did not take her eyes off
the others. "Tell me exactly what happened," she said calmly.

"The old fool was working in that fancy
counting-house study of his, just like I knew he would be at this
time of day. He was all alone in the place except for his
housekeeper." He grinned maliciously. "And she is now an
ex-housekeeper."

"Was Jackson armed?"

"No, not then."

Carmen de Menendez took a deep breath. "Go
on."

"I told him that we had the girl and her
brother under armed guard and that he was to empty his safe for me.
It is a big one behind a map on the wall. I knew it was there and I
knew it would contain a fortune."

"That was not part of the plan!" the saloon
owner snapped.

Rubal Cage snorted dismissively. "But it was
too good an opportunity to miss. And I hate missing opportunities.
What could go wrong, I thought. I had a gun trained on his back all
the time."

Elly glared at Cage in disgust. "You killed
Jeb in cold blood? You monster!"

"Shut up, bitch!" he yelled. "I didn’t kill
the fool in cold blood. The bastard pulled out a derringer and
slammed the safe closed before I could stop him. He took a shot at
me, so I had to kill him." He spat on the floor as if to indicate
an end of the matter.

"You should have just winged him," said
Carmen de Menendez.

"Damn that! He had two barrels on that toy
shooter. He could have done me serious harm."

Carmen de Menendez spoke over her shoulder
to Cole Lancing. "Make sure no one moves."

Then she turned and shot Rubal Cage in the
face. His body was thrown back to smash through the window, where
it hung over the ledge.

"He just reached the end of his usefulness,"
she said, as if by way of explanation.

The effect on everyone in the room had been
of utter shock. Everyone stared aghast at her callousness. Everyone
in the room, that is, except Elly and Johnnie Parker.

Slowly throughout the last half hour she had
been gradually untying his bound hands. Now she plucked up a
cushion and threw it at the woman, before making a dive at her.

"Go, Johnnie! You're our only chance!" she
cried.

And while Johnnie Parker dived from the room
she closed on Carmen de Menendez, reaching for her gun.

Saul Horrocks stared in wide-eyed alarm.
"No, Elly! She's dangerous!"

Cole Lancing had started after Johnnie, but
Jake had managed to spring up and block his way, only to be
bludgeoned aside, to fall back in the chair.

"Leave the boy, Cole!" Carmen de Menendez
roared. "Cover them!"

And with a vicious punch she caught Elly on
the temple. Instantly, Elly crumpled to the ground in a daze.

"Okay, that’s enough," the saloon owner
cried, ratcheting back the hammer of her gun. She pointed at
Yucatan. "Don’t just sit there, you fool. Get after him. Kill
him!"

Jake Scudder stared in amazement as the
large servant slipped the loops of rope off his wrists and charged
from the room.

Johnnie Parker had wrangled near all of his
adult life and he bounded onto the nearest animal, which happened
to be Trixie, Elly’s cow pony. Then he took off at a racing
pace.

Yucatan, bigger, more ponderous, yet still
skilled with horses selected Rubal Cage’s horse. It was a large,
fast animal and before long he was gaining on his quarry.

The race did not last long. Yucatan rode
alongside then heaved himself from the saddle, snatching Johnnie in
a bear-hug, to land in a painful bundle in the sand. They rolled
over and over, then Yucatan, far heavier and stronger succeeded in
fending off Johnnie’s weakened blows to pin him to the ground with
his knees. And then his strong hands were around Johnnie’s throat,
squeezing the life from him.

"Yucatan! Let him go!"

The big servant looked up slowly to see a
young Apache dressed in range clothes and a black Stetson dismount
from a big black stallion.

"I have looked for you for many moons, you
murdering rapist!"

A slow sneer spread across the big man’s
face and he contemptuously left the limp form of Johnnie Parker and
stood up.

"So Nantan wants to meet his sister!" he
gave an evil leer and reaching behind him drew out a wicked looking
double-edged knife. "I enjoyed your sister."

Nantan drew his own hunting knife. "Prepare
to die, Yucatan."

They both dropped into fighting positions,
Nantan adopting a thrusting approach as opposed to Yucatan’s
backward slashing method. For a few moments they tested each other.
Then Yucatan rushed in, fending aside Nantan’s thrust as he caught
and immobilized his arm against his side, while he raised his own
knife to stab Nantan’s exposed back.

But Johnnie had rolled and gasped enough air
to recover sufficiently to realize that his savior needed help. He
scooped a handful of sand, dived forward, and threw it in Yucatan’s
face.