The Spurs of Iron Eyes (Iron Eyes Western #3) (13 page)
Read The Spurs of Iron Eyes (Iron Eyes Western #3) Online
Authors: Rory Black
Tags: #bounty hunters, #western fiction, #western adventure, #piccadilly publishing, #rory black, #pulp western fiction
‘
Would
you repeat that, Father.’ Bass scratched his chin and stared hard
into the face of his companion. ‘You say he lost the money in your
chapel? How?’
‘
After
Iron Eyes left with Pablo I went into the chapel to pray for the
safety of their souls,’ Father Jose began. ‘I had no sooner knelt
down before the altar when I noticed something beneath the altar
cloth.’
‘
He
hid the money underneath the altar?’ Sheriff Bass shook his
head.
‘
Every
golden eagle and silver dollar somehow found itself beneath the
altar of the chapel.’ Father Jose began to smile.
‘
It
don’t make any sense. Why would the critter do that?’
‘
Perhaps the fortune was nothing more than a heavy weight he
no longer wished to burden himself with, Sheriff,’ Father Jose
said, walking along with the lawman at his side.
‘
Yeah,
by losing the money he gave himself the excuse to help old Pablo.’
Sheriff Bass began to understand.
‘
Si.
Iron Eyes is one of those strange men who cannot admit he
would ever help anyone.’ The priest gestured with his hands as they
paused above the glistening waters of the clear river.
‘
But
by pretending to be broke he gave himself an excuse to help them
folks.’ Bass shook his head.
Iron Eyes is a very unusual
man,
’ Father
Jose sighed.
‘
I
never met his like before and that’s a fact.’ Sheriff Bass wondered
if he would ever cross paths with Iron Eyes again.
‘For
all his deadly skills, he could not
turn his back on his fellow man.’ The priest suddenly remembered
the figure on the golden crucifix and how he had told the bounty
hunter of how Jesus Christ had given His life willingly to save
others. A cold chill came over him.
‘
What’s wrong, Father Jose?’ Bass asked, as he noticed the
color draining from the priest’s face.
‘
Nothing, my son. I just remembered something.’
‘
Something important?’ Bass enquired.
The holy man did not know what
the answer to
the simple question was. All he knew for certain was he had
told Iron Eyes of one brave man’s sacrifice and perhaps the bounty
hunter might have willingly ridden to his own death because of
those words.
It was still early when they
began walking back toward the small town and the aroma of cooking
breakfasts which filled the morning air. The trouble was, neither
man was hungry.
The pair of riders who passed
the sheriff
’s office and headed their mounts to the hitching rail
outside the hotel caused little interest to the citizens of Rio
Vista. They looked ordinary enough to be about anything, except
hard-working cowboys. Only one man gave them a second look as they
dismounted and quietly entered the hotel.
Sheriff Bass bit his lower lip
as he stood beside the window of his office sipping at a cup of
coffee. He had not seen the two men since Iron Eyes had shown an
interest in them. After they had left the saloon that hot
afternoon, they had vanished into thin air. Glancing at the pile of
posters piled high upon his untidy desk, Bass knew it was pointless
searching through them to find out who these men were. The bounty
hunter had done that and taken the two incriminating scraps of
paper with
him for future reference. They were wanted dead or alive,
that much was certain. Iron Eyes never wasted a second look upon
wanted posters which did not give him the option of killing his
prey.
Bass wondered why they had
chosen to return to his small town, knowing the bounty hunter might
still be around. Only damn stupid outlaws would be so foolhardy
unless they had something up their sleeves.
Could there be something in
Rio Vista worth risking their lives for? Bass pondered the question
as he finished the black beverage. He had never been a man to seek
out trouble and yet he knew something just did not
figure.
Bass checked his shotgun
and placed a few extra cartridges in his vest pockets before
donning his Stetson and walking out into the blazing sunshine. As
he locked the door, he heard his office wall clock striking twelve
noon.
The streets were as quiet as
usual. It seemed hotter than a normal afternoon to the law officer
as he strolled along the boardwalk toward the small cafe, situated
on the corner. Entering the building he sat down beside a window
and watched the hotel opposite. His mind was filled with a thousand
thoughts as he studied the street and the few souls who walked up
and down its single thoroughfare. The small bank which lay
two buildings away
from the hotel caught his attention.
‘
Usual, Sheriff?’ the waitress asked.
‘
Yep,’
Bass replied, resting the heavy shotgun across the checkered
tablecloth.
‘
You
expecting trouble?’ she enquired.
Bass smiled up at her and
winked. She smiled and went to the rear of the cafe, as he leaned
forward in his chair and looked at the bank once more. Would anyone
even consider robbing the Rio Vista Bank? Nobody ever
had.
Yet these two men were
outlaws. They knew they were taking a risk returning to town with
the possibility of Iron Eyes still being around, and yet they had
returned all the same. Bass knew the bank had always done good
business.
It had to be the bank which
had drawn them back.
The sheriff began to wonder
what he ought to do for the best - considering he might just be
wrong.
Then he saw them walking back
out from the hotel and pausing on the boardwalk. Iron Eyes had been
right about these two men. He had seen the way they dressed; the
way they always kept their gun grips clear by pushing their jackets
over their holsters. For a moment the sheriff felt as if he should
go out into the street and let them
see his star shining in the brilliant
sunlight. It might make them ride off to another place to become
another lawman’s headache, but it might also prove a tempting
target for them to practice on. Frank Lewis and Ben Tyler seemed to
stare up and down the street for a few moments before heading
across towards the saloon.
As his meal arrived, Bass
sat back and decided to eat. There was plenty of time to act later.
Much later.
Bass could not put off the
inevitable any longer. Placing a half-dollar onto the side order
plate he rose and picked up his heavy shotgun.
‘You
leaving us already, Sheriff?’ the
sweet-natured waitress asked, as she watched the heavily built man
stepping reluctantly to the open door.
Glancing up at the wall
clock he noted it was now forty minutes since he had first
entered.
‘
I got
to go talk with a couple of strangers.’
She smiled as she always
smiled and he stepped out into the bright street and began making
his way down towards the saloon.
Bass felt his heart beating
faster than it had ever done before, with the exception of when he
had first encountered Iron Eyes. As he reached the swing doors of
the saloon he stared in before entering.
There were only four people in
the cool, long
room drinking; two
vaqueros
at a table at the foot of the stairs, and the two
outlaws he sought leaning on the bar. Bass sucked in his wide
girth, clutched his shotgun and walked into the saloon.
Trying not to look as if he
wanted anything but a beer, the sheriff moved to the end of the
long bar and nodded at the bartender.
‘
Beer.’
‘
Coming up, Sheriff.’ The man behind the bar waved as he
took a glass and placed it under the tap.
The faces of the two men
sipping at their whiskey turned and looked across at the
lawman.
‘
Hot
enough for you boys?’ Bass said calmly.
Tyler nodded as Lewis
grinned.
‘
Mighty hot, Sheriff.’
Bass lifted the glass of
beer up to his lips and took a large swallow.
‘
You
boys in town for any particular reason?’
Lewis moved closer to the
lawman.
‘
Nothing important. We were heading to San Remo but figured
it would be smart to rest up here for a few days first.’
Bass nodded.
‘
You
cattle buyers?’
Lewis glanced at his partner
before replying.
‘
We
were thinking of trying to get into that business.’
‘I
hear it pays a healthy profit.’ The
sheriff kept sipping at his beer as he listened and watched the two
uncomfortable strangers.
‘You
kept busy in Rio Vista?’ Tyler
asked.
‘
Saturday nights,’ Bass smiled.
The two outlaws began to
laugh while they refilled their glasses from their whiskey
bottle.
‘
Last
time we were in town we saw you with a tall man,’ Lewis said
quietly.
‘You
mean Iron Eyes?’ Bass raised an
eyebrow as he watched the effect the name had on the two nervous
men.
Tyler gulped.
‘
The
bounty hunter?’
‘
Yep.’
The sheriff noticed the sweat beginning to trickle down from
beneath the outlaw’s hat as the man toyed with the small crystal
tumbler before him.
‘Is
he still in town, Sheriff?’ Lewis
asked, staring into his drink.
‘
Nope.
He rode out two days back,’ Bass answered.
‘
He
due back?’ Ben Tyler’s voice croaked.
‘
Hard
to say.’
‘
How
come?’
Bass pushed his empty glass
towards the bartender and
signaled for it to be replenished.
‘
He
rode down into Mexico.’
‘
Was
he after someone?’ Frank Lewis felt suddenly relieved at the
thought of the deadly bounty hunter not being in Rio
Vista.
‘
There’s some bandits down there.’ Bass rubbed his chin as
the glass of beer was placed before him. ‘I guess they must have a
price on their heads for him to be interested, boys.’
The two outlaws seemed to
be happier knowing the one man who could thwart their plans was
south of the border. They seemed to visibly relax and loosen up as
they sipped at their liquor.
‘
How
long you boys intend staying in town?’ Bass asked as he lifted the
glass off the bar counter and moved it to his lips.
‘
A
couple of days,’ Lewis smiled.
Bass drained his glass and
touched the brim of his Stetson as he plucked up his shotgun before
turning to leave. As he strode across the sawdust he felt their
eyes burning into his spine with every step. He did not look back
but pushed his way through the doors and out into the blazing sun.
As he made his way across the street, he found himself heading
towards the bank. It was only a feeling in the pit of his guts but
he thought it best to warn the banker. Just in case.
No sooner had the sheriff
seated himself down in his office chair after returning from the
bank, his
attention was drawn to the window once more. Frank Lewis
and Ben Tyler were standing directly outside his office, shoulder
to shoulder with their backs to him. Bass began to rise from his
chair when the two men swiftly entered and slammed the door shut
behind them.
The long barrel of the
Smith & Wesson pressed against his wrinkled temple made Bass
return his wide rear back onto the padded leather.
He watched as Lewis quickly
lowered the shade.
‘
Boys?’
Ben Tyler pushed the cold steel
into the sheriff
’s skull and forced him back and growled, ‘You must be the
dumbest lawman that ever there was.’
‘
Easy,
Ben,’ Lewis said, as he looked around the shade at the quiet,
sun-drenched street. ‘I don’t want no noise to wake up the town’s
citizens.’
Bass glanced across at the
calmer and more methodical Lewis as the gun barrel pressed
painfully into his head.
‘I
guess you boys ain’t here to play
checkers.’
‘F
unny, old man,’ Frank Lewis smiled,
as he walked over to his partner and whispered in his ear. Whatever
was said, it made the face of Tyler light up.
‘
I ...
I lied about Iron Eyes,’ Sheriff Bass mumbled.
Lewis turned on his heels and
narrowed his eyes, looking down at the sweating face of the
sheriff. For a second he did nothing, then he stepped closer and
bent over until his mouth was next to Bass
’s ear.