War on the Cimarron (24 page)

“Walk out of that corner and come out through the door onto the porch. And when you hit the porch cut loose your dogs, because I know you killed Morg.”

Corb hesitated for one moment, took a step from behind the table, and when he was even with the bar he suddenly dived behind its shelter.

Frank swung up his gun and he saw he couldn't shoot for the drinkers lining the bar. He lunged through the crowd, flinging men aside, and swung into the space behind the bar just in time to see Corb duck into the door to the dark store beyond the other end of the bar.

He ran down behind the bar, knocking the bartender against the back bar, and dived into the dark door of the store beyond just as Otey let his gun off at the ceiling and yelled: “Everybody stay put!”

Corb's gun bellowed out, and a slug slapped into the door frame beside Frank. He moved over into the deep darkness of the store, and across the tables lined with goods he flipped two shots at Corb. He vaulted a table, saw a form move across the store again and shot once more. He had cut Corb off from retreating into the darker rear of the store. Now he had him between himself and the street lamps out on the parade grounds which glowed through the windows. Frank saw something move up ahead, and he shot again and heard the hammering of Corb's feet as he ran. Suddenly a bolt of dress goods soared toward the window, and it jangled outward onto the porch, and then Corb, half crouching, dived through the hole in the window.

He was running for the edge of the porch just as Red, attracted by the shot, came pounding across the parade grounds, saw him by the aid of the street lamp and flipped two shots at him. Frank threw two more through the window, and more glass jangled.

For a split second Corb hesitated, then he ran down the porch. Frank vaulted through the broken window in time to see him duck into the stairway that raised to the hotel rooms on the second floor.

Frank took after him and swung into the stair well. Up at the top Corb's form was just vanishing. Frank took the stairs three at a time, and Red swung in behind him, and Luvie, her skirts lifted, swung in behind Red.

Red yelled: “Careful comin' up the top, Frank!”

Frank hit the top step and tripped and sprawled just as Corb's gun cut loose from down the corridor. Frank threw a shot at him, and Corb ducked back into the L of the corridor, and Frank raced after him, listening to the distant pounding of Corb's feet.

Red hit the stair landing, pulling a gun, and wheeled just in time to jab it into Luvie. Red's mouth opened, then he grabbed her and pulled her out of sight just as the first of the barroom crowd, whom Otey could not hold any longer, hit the stair well below. Red shot down it twice and then heard the curses of the men below drifting up the stair well. One man shouted: “The back stairs! He can't guard both!”

Luvie heard and she said, “Quick, Red! Give me a gun!”

“But you're a woman! You can't—”

“I can fight for him, can't I?” Luvie flashed. “I tried to get him killed once! Oh, Red, give me a chance to make up for it!”

Red palmed up his second gun, gave it to Luvie and, with a sinking heart, watched her run down the corridor toward the back stairs, and his courage forsook him. Suppose something happened to her! He didn't have time to think of that long, for the second wave of pursuers—soldiers this time—hit the stairs. He laid a blistering fire down on them.

When Frank rounded the corner of the dark corridor he saw only a bracket wall lamp turned down low ahead of him. He lifted his gun and shot it out, and then he stopped. He couldn't hear Corb and could see the window in the end of the corridor ahead of him framing a segment of the lighter night sky. Had Corb gone into a room?

Even while he was watching, listening to a woman run down the corridor behind him, he saw a ladder drop down across the window and the form of Corb climbing it.

He shot once, heard a bitter oath and then ran for the ladder. As he reached it he saw it being pulled up by a rope from the roof, and he leaped for it. His hands caught the bottom rung, and his weight suddenly broke Corb's hold on the rope. The ladder crashed to the floor and Frank with it. He hit the floor and rolled just as Corb shot down into the corridor. Frank palmed up his other gun and set three fast shots at the trap-door hole, then came to his feet and climbed the ladder, shooting his gun empty. He didn't know whether or not Corb was waiting up there to get him, but he had to take the chance. He raced up the ladder, hurled himself through the square hole and fell on the roof, rolling over and over down its slope. A fusillade of shots seemed to follow his course until he was brought up against a chimney. He rolled behind it, then feverishly started to reload his guns, peering out from behind the chimney. He saw another chimney beyond the trap door, and this was where Corb was forted up.

Frank swung his loading gates shut and then heard the shooting below. Some of it came from the front stairway and some seemed to be coming from the back part of the hotel. In a few moments they would be up after him. He peered out from behind the chimney and took stock of the situation. Then he called, “Here I come, Corb.”

No answer.

The roof was almost flat, sloping toward the rear, and Corb was upslope from him. Again, as in the store, there was the light behind Corb and darkness behind him. Corb couldn't see him well, and Frank decided to take the chance. He broke out from behind the chimney, quartering away from Corb, holding his fire and running. Corb opened up, but he was shooting blindly toward the chimney. Frank ran to one side until he saw Corb's figure crouched behind the chimney, and then he opened up with both guns.

Corb grunted and came to his feet, and Frank knew he was hit. Then Corb, firing as he ran, headed up the roof in a panic to get away from Frank. He was limping, bent over so low that he was behind the dark line of the wooden parapet at the front of the building, and Frank could not see him.

He ran anyway, shooting blindly at the noise Corb's dragging feet made. And then the noise ceased, and Frank could see nothing. He dropped on his belly and started crawling up the slope, a gun in each hand. Corb was hiding somewhere behind the parapet, Frank knew.

Suddenly something loomed up in front of Frank. It was a low brick ventilator. Then, confident of his shelter, Frank opened up. He trained his gun in a line with the parapet and, spacing his shots, he opened up in a sustained roar of gunfire.

Suddenly there was a scream, and Frank saw Corb's body rise up full height, clutching his chest. Frank shot then, blindly and furiously, and he saw Corb driven back until his back, acting as a pivot, bent over the parapet. Then slowly, almost gracefully, he toppled over and disappeared. Frank rose and ran the ten yards to the parapet. Before he reached it he heard a great rending crash of splitting wood. When he got to the parapet he looked over. He saw, a story and a half below him, a jagged hole in the boards of the wooden awning, and he straightened up, a little sick, just as a soldier's voice called from the trap door: “Raise 'em high, cowboy, or you're dead!”

Chapter XX

Frank was marched downstairs between a squad of soldiers to the porch. Someone already had thrown a canvas over Corb's broken body, and Major Corning, surrounded by his officers, was standing under the street lamp. Red, surly and disarmed, and Luvie and Edith and Otey, his gun rammed in the back of two of Corb's men, were waiting with Major Corning.

Frank walked wearily over to them, and Major Corning said grimly, “This time you won't escape, Christian.”

It brought a laugh from the crowd gathered behind the soldiers who ringed the group.

“Escape?” Luvie said indignantly. “Why should he? He's not guilty of anything.”

Major Corning turned to her. “For a lady who held off my troopers with ten minutes of gunfire, you haven't exactly the right to speak.”

“Then I have,” a voice said from the crowd. Chet Milabel shouldered his way through the soldiers. “I'm askin' why he should be arrested.”

“You just saw a murder!” Major Corning said.

“Like hell I did,” Milabel said roughly. “I saw justice. Corb killed this man's partner. He's got the proof if you'll listen to him.”

“I'll listen,” the major said, turning to Frank. “What proof have you that Corb killed Wheelon?”

Frank warily produced the pair of spurs and the rowel and told his story briefly. Milabel backed him up. Luvie and Red and Otey and Barnes, who had drawn closer now, verified the story Gus had told at the camp. At the storm of talk that poured from them all Major Corning raised his hands to his ears.

“All right, all right!” he said angrily. “Perhaps that's so. Still, there's a ‘dead or alive' reward on Christian's head for murdering a trail driver of Milabel's. And you preferred the charges yourself, along with Corb!” he said to Milabel.

Otey said harshly, “Red, take this gun and keep these two jaspers here! Major, keep your mouth shut until I get back!”

The major glared at him, but Otey vanished into the night. In two minutes he led a staggering Beach Freeman out of the compound into the circle of lamplight. Beach's face was a bloody pulp, and Otey had to hold him upright.

Otey stood him up in front of Major Corning and said, “Beach, who killed that rider of Milabel's at the stampede? Talk straight, or you'll get more of what you've already got.”

“I did,” Beach whined through puffed lips. “It—it was a mistake,” he said weakly. “I had to.”

“And I fired him for it,” Frank said angrily to the major.

Milabel looked over at Frank. “I'm glad to hear that,” he said softly. “Damned if I ever thought you did it.” He looked at Major Corning. “What else have you got against him, Major?”

Major Corning's voice was sharp with anger. “What else? I understand from talk around here that Christian killed four of Corb's riders in a night attack.”

Red raised his foot and savagely kicked the two Corb understrappers before the major. “You gents aim to talk, or will I turn you over to the major as whisky peddlers?” Red drawled. “Gus told me your caches. I know every one of 'em.”

One rider glared at Red, then said sullenly to the major, “I was on that raid. Corb raided Christian, not the other way. We got what we had comin' to us, I reckon.”

Major Corning's mouth was agape. He looked at his officers, and they could only look at him mutely.

Frank said calmly, “What else is in the list, Major?”

“Escaping from our soldiers,” Major Corning stammered.

“Stone Bull rescued him,” Edith put in. “Take it up with him. Frank had nothing to do with it.”

A captain spoke up. “There's a little matter of whisky peddling, Major. That was the cause of the original arrest.”

“And I framed it on Christian,” Milabel countered. “I stole the whisky from Corb's cache and planted it on Frank's range.”

Major Corning said furiously, “For a man who has been feuding with Christian ever since he got here, you seem mighty interested in having him set free, Milabel!”

“I am,” Milabel said, his broad face cracking into a grin. “He's made me eat every word I ever bragged. I want him for a neighbor.”

“Still, he broke jail,” the captain put in.

“But it was a false charge,” Frank countered.

Luvie walked up to Major Corning and faced him. “Major Corning, you've had the biggest menace on this reservation wiped out tonight. The biggest whisky peddler, a renegade Indian leader and a cattle rustler. And you want the man jailed who did it. That may sound like the United States Army to some people, but it's not my army. Is it yours?”

Major Corning looked searchingly at her, and then he said gently, “No, my dear, it's not. But argument can bring out lots besides tears. Tonight it's brought out the truth.” He walked over to Frank and put out his hand. “You're free as air, as far as I'm concerned, son. All I'll burden you with is my heartfelt thanks.”

Frank took his hand and a slow smile broke over his tired face. Before he had time to thank the major a cavalry officer rode up, and the crowd broke for him. He saluted and said, “All the leaders are in the guardhouse, Major, and Captain Brett has returned safely from the Indian camp.”

“Is it over?” Major Corning asked.

The officer smiled faintly. “I don't know, sir, but the drums have stopped beating.”

Major Corning looked at Red, then walked over to him. He put out his hand again, and he said, “It's a pity you aren't an army man, Shibe. You could use a little discipline—but that's all you could use. Thanks for what you've done. And in case there's any doubt about it, you have the run of this garrison from now to eternity, with a standing invitation to eat in the officers' mess as long as I'm in command.”

He saluted Edith and Luvie and inarched off across the parade grounds, and his officers behind him. The troops were ordered to fall in and marched off, and slowly the crowd broke up.

Red found Edith standing beside him. “It kind of pays off for Morg's murder, don't it?” he murmured.

Edith nodded, and a shadow crossed her face. But only for a moment, and then she smiled at Red. “Morg was lucky to have the friends he had, Red.”

“Frank will do to ride the river with,” Red said gently.

Edith looked up at him. “He will. But Morg had another friend that will do to ride the river with too.”

Red looked down at her, and his freckled face was suddenly close to the color of his hair. “I ain't ever been tagged with that,” he stammered.

Edith smiled a little and put her hand through his arm. “Then maybe you'd better get used to it, Red, because I think so.”

Luvie watched Frank put the spurs in his hip pocket and wipe his forehead, and then she turned to her father. “Come on, Dad,” she said miserably.

She put a hand through her father's arm and then started for the hotel.