The Red River Ring (13 page)

Chapter XXI

Pommel lifted a small rock with his finger and outlined a horse track. “There's traffic up this canyon. I'd say several horses have been through here recently.”

Sam Ketchum nodded and rode his horse past Pommel. “It's hard to tell in these rocks but I'd say you're right.”

Temple sat back in his saddle and scanned the walls above the narrow canyon. “This is a good place for an ambush.”

“Yep,” Pommel said as he mounted his sorrel. “It's a perfect place for a rustlers gang to work from. This canyon was used by Plains Apaches when I first came out here. A company of Rangers cleared out this canyon in 52. Most folks have probably forgotten about it. No one would run cattle up here. There's no water.”

“You think Pac is still alive?” Temple asked.

“Probably or they would have dumped him by now. I figure they had some kind of hold on Pac. Gambling debts, a frame up or something he's done that they've got wind of, whatever it is I figure he was your spy.”

“You think he killed Blomberg?” Temple asked.

“You know him better than I do. What do you think?”

Temple shook his head and spurred his horse up a sharp incline to the next canyon ledge. “He's got a temper but to shoot a man in the back of the head while he sat at his desk? No. Pac wouldn't do that.”

“That's my reading. Pac is no back shooter,” Pommel said as he urged his sorrel to follow.

Ketchum pointed to a sandy blow out in the center of the canyon floor. “Look there, Major. It's full of pony tracks.”

“After a while rustlers and even Injuns get lazy. They should have ridden around that sand to keep it clear of tracks. They're using this canyon right regular.”

“You remember where those Apaches hid out?” Temple asked.

“Yep, I was with the Rangers when we wiped them out. It's another mile or so then about a hundred yards back in a cut. It's an open area with shear cliffs on three sides. The only way in or out is this canyon. It makes a great place to lay up but it's a death trap if you're caught in it.”

“Quiet,” Sam Ketchum said. “I hear horses above.”

“Let's fall back to the bend of the canyon and wait until they come through,” Pommel said.

“What if they outnumber us?” Temple asked as he turned his horse.

Pommel smiled. “Then you shoot real fast.”

As they turned the bend, Pommel signaled for Sam to take a position on the far side of the canyon. Sam pulled his Winchester and dismounted as Temple took control of his horse. They waited as the sounds of the horses became louder. Sam signaled that two riders were approaching.

“Wait here,” Pommel ordered. “I'll face them down while you and Sam keep the drop on them with your rifles.”

When they were within yards of the bend, Pommel levered a round into his Winchester and stepped into the open. “Hold on there, boys,” he said calmly as he stepped out.

Meadows and Blake held up their horses and quickly scanned the canyon walls for more riflemen.

“You boys don't look so good,” Pommel said as he pointed the Winchester between Blake and Meadows. “Looks like you've been shot up a might.”

“Shot up enough that we're through,” Blake said as he raised hands. “We're just riding out of this canyon and out of the territory if you'll allow us to pass.”

Meadows raised his good hand and nodded agreement.

“Are the rest of them laid up in Apache Draw?” Pommel asked.

“We call it the Roost, but it's the same place,” Blake said as he saw the barrel of Ketchum's Winchester pointing at him.

“How many?”

“A dozen, maybe more,” Blake said. “More than you and him want to tackle.

“There's eight,” Meadows said. “Black Tom Bent, three Mexicans and four others.”

Blake cut a harsh look toward Meadows.

“We don't owe them nothing,” Meadows said. “All I want to do is ride out of here.”

“Throw them guns on the ground and you can do just that,” Pommel said.

“Good enough,” Meadows said as he unbuckled his gun belt with one hand and tossed his Winchester and revolver to the ground.

Blake shook his head slowly. “I need these guns. It's a long ride to Arizona.”

Pommel swung his rifle barrel toward Blake. “Tough. Buy more when you get to town.”

“Give up your Colts, Burt,” Meadows said softly. “If he don't get you that nigger's sure to blow your head off.”

“You're a gutless wonder,” Blake said as his eyes shifted toward Ketchum.

“You got the high, low and Jack against you,” Meadows said. “Ain't no shame in knowing when you're licked.”

“He's a smart hombre,” Pommel said. “How smart are you?”

Temple rose from behind a rock into Blake's line of sight and leveled his Winchester.

Blake smiled as he realized another rifleman had the drop on him. “Looks like I'm smart enough. I paid thirty dollars a piece for these,” he said as he gently fingered his nickel plated Colts from his holsters and tossed them into the dirt. “Take good care of them.”

Pommel smiled. “I'll hang them in a place of honor. Let's have a look in those saddlebags. I wouldn't want to find out later that you stashed a hideout.”

Temple and Sam stepped into the open as Pommel went through Blake's bags.

“Look at this,” Pommel said as he pulled a .41 Lightning from Blake's bag and showed it to Temple. “You recognize this?”

“It's Pac's. I'd know that Ivory grip anywhere,” Temple said.

“Is he dead?” Pommel asked.

“When we rode out he was in good shape. I don't know what his condition is now,” Meadows answered.

“We gonna just let them ride out?” Temple asked.

“We do that, or shoot em, or waste a man to guard them,” Pommel answered.

Temple nodded and glared at both. “Ride hard gents. If I ever see you again, I'll shoot you on sight.”

“Don't come to Arizona,” Blake said. “I'll never set foot in Texas again.”

“Fair enough,” Temple said. “I'm taking your word for your life. Ride hard.”

Meadows and Blake spurred their horses forward and galloped down the canyon.

Pommel strapped on Meadows' rig and buckled it in the back so the Colt would balance butt forward with his own gun on the right side. He tossed the Lightning to Temple, picked up Blake's Colts and tossed them to Sam Ketchum. “You could use some fancy new Colts, couldn't you?”

Sam nodded, blew off the dust, and slipped them into his gun belt.

Pommel chuckled as he picked up Meadows' Winchester and handed it to Temple. “We look like we're ready for a gun fight.”

“Do you?” Reese McMurphy said as he brought his horse around the bend.

Temple turned to see his brother leaning over the saddle horn with is left arm in a sling. “What happened to you?”

“The Ring's Mexicans hit us last night. One of them bounced a slug through the hall doorway, off my breast bone and up through my shoulder. Left me for dead and took Mom, Sarah and the girls.”

“What are you doing here alone in that condition? Where the hell's the sheriff?” Pommel said as he stepped forward for a closer examination.

“That son-of-a-bitch was nowhere to be found. Neither was John Fellows nor any deputies. The bullet went out my shoulder so I poured some whiskey on the hole and bandaged it myself. I followed their trail and hoped I would run into someone before they got away or I passed out.”

“I take back everything I ever said about you, little brother,” Temple said. “You're one tough hombre.”

“They got Sarah, Mom and the girls. Nothing else matters.”

“Those guys never said anything about the women,” Sam Ketchum said.

“Would you if you were in their boots?” Temple asked.

“You got any guns?” Temple asked as he patted Reese on the leg.

“I stuffed my Colt in my belt. I couldn't work a Winchester if I wanted to.”

“Take my Remington carbine,” Pommel said as he pulled the gun from his scabbard and handed it over. “That'll give you twelve shots when we go in.”

“We going in straight up?” Ketchum asked.

“Right down the floor of that draw. The odds are two to one but I figure they got to come into the open to get a shot at us. Several will try to run for it. We take our rifles and we gun them down before they can harm the women.”

“That's a long play,” Temple said.

“You got a better one,” Pommel said as he loaded his Winchester to capacity and handed a handful of .44/40's to Reese.

“I'm game,” Reese said as he dropped the cartridges into his vest pocket.

“We ain't bullet proof,” Temple said.

“Neither are they,” Reese answered.

“What about you?” Pommel asked Sam.

“I'm with you. I always have been. It's too late to change.”

Pommel swung into the saddle and drew up his reins. “Let's go. We're burning daylight.”

“Let's go,” Reese said as he spurred forward.

Temple shook his head and mounted up. “What the hell. Beats chasing longhorns.”

At the base of the draw, Pommel dismounted, checked his revolver loads and pulled his Winchester. The others followed his lead.

“Reese, I figure you should bow out of this one. I want you to position yourself behind that boulder and shoot anyone who tries to escape or backshoot us,” Pommel said.

“Fine with me. I didn't know if I could walk up that canyon anyhow.”

“Temple, take your time, aim your rifle carefully and shoot to kill. Don't give up your gun for any reason.”

“You've done this before?” Temple asked as he levered a round into his Winchester.

Pommel winked at Ketchum. “Once or twice, huh, Sam?”

Sam smiled. “Yeah, once or twice.”

Pommel started walking. “We don't warn them. We just start shooting and we don't stop till they're dead.”

“Good luck, brother,” Reese said as they started up the draw.

“Same to you. I'll see you when it's over.”

“When it's over,” Reese answered quietly.

They walked together three abreast, Sam on the right, Pommel in the middle and Temple on the left, matching strides carrying their Winchesters at hip level.

“Don't think about their bullets. It's just like shooting rabbits. Concentrate on aligning your sights and hitting your target. Pick your targets one at a time and don't consider another until after you've shot the first. Temple, you work your way in from left to right. Sam will work right to left and I will pick up the center as they offer a shot.”

“Will they come at us in a line?”

“Chances are they won't. Most of these guys will be too busy saving their skin. But there will be a few, then we work them like we talked. If there's a shotgun man, kill him first. If several have shotguns, head for cover and we'll use our range advantage against them.”

Temple nodded and squeezed the lever on his Winchester. His lips were dry and his heart pounded. He hadn't known a rush of fear like it in his life but he kept his stride and scanned the cliff walls for an ambush.

A guard called from the heights and threw off a shot. The bullet struck at the point of Pommel's boot. He stopped, raised the long barreled Winchester, took careful aim and fired one round. The guard clutched his chest, dropped his rifle and fell back out of sight.

“One,” Sam Ketchum said as they started forward again.

Two more ran into the open from the side of the wall as if taken by surprise. Neither had a rifle.

One drew his revolver and the other turned to run. Pommel threw up his rifle and shot the revolver man through the heart before he could fire. Ketchum nailed the other in the back of his shoulders as he ran.

“Two, three,” Sam Ketchum said as they started forward again.

Valdez ran for the cover of the cabin as they entered the head of the canyon. “Temple threw off a shot which hit slightly behind Valdez's boot.”

“A little more lead,” Pommel said as he raised the rifle and put a bullet just behind Valdez's arm into his lungs. Valdez rolled face forward into the dirt.

“Four,” Sam Ketchum said as they started forward again.

“And Five,” Temple said as he suddenly raised his Winchester and shot a cowboy from his horse as it broke from behind the cabin.

“That leaves three for three,” Pommel said. “It's a straight up gunfight from here on out.”

Bartello broke his horse from behind the cabin as well, with both his Colts blazing. Pommel flinched and raised his rifle. Temple felt his hat tugged from his head. Sam fired and Bartello's horse squealed. Pommel fired and Bartello twisted sideways in his saddle dropping one of his revolvers. His horse ran by them and around the bend before another shot could be taken.

Black Tom Bent stepped from the cabin with Pac in front of him, a revolver barrel to Pac's ear.

“Back off or I'll kill them all,” Bent yelled as he struggled to keep Pac on his feet and his revolver under control.

Pac shut his eyes to block the light and struggled to control the pain in his head.

“Where's the women?” Pommel yelled.

“Inside and I'll get them all before you can get me,” Black Tom yelled.

Pac reached up and grabbed Bent's revolver with his left hand pulling it down toward himself. “Shoot!” he yelled.

Bent's revolver discharged into Pac's chest and he fell away.

Sam, Temple and Pommel fired their Winchesters simultaneously, the bullets ripping into Bent's chest.

Bent staggered back without dropping his revolver and stared in horror at Pac's form sprawled in the dirt. “No,” he yelled. “It wasn't supposed to be this way. Go to hell you sons-a-bitches!” He raised his gun and cocked the hammer.

Three more shots ripped into his chest and he dropped to his knees. Slowly he forced his revolver up again and another three shots toppled him back into the cabin wall.