Maverick Marshall (16 page)

He pushed into the crowd surrounding Church’s crew. “Chavez,” he called, “where’ve you put Tularosa?”

The deputy frowned. “Didn’t bag him.” Worried stares replaced some of the grins in Frank’s vicinity and the crowd’s enthusiasm took a noticeable slump. “What’s more,” Chavez said, “we didn’t lay hold of Will, either. All we got was the scrapin’s.”

Frank grabbed the first dozen men he could lay hands on and sent them off to round up the loose horses. “Get ’em all,” he said grimly, “including those at the tie-racks. We don’t stop this here we never will without more killing.”

He was afraid in his own mind the time was already past when shutting the stable was going to do much good. He detailed other men to close-herd the prisoners and sent Chavez over to keep an eye on the jail. Bernie, Krantz and Wolverton he put to gathering weapons. “Go through the Opal, too, while you’re at it. Take everything over to your place, Krantz, and — ”

“Say, Frank,” one of the unconscripted townsmen called, “this bunch of sidewinders Church fetched down on us looks just about ready for a jig on a rope.”

Frank turned on him, furious. “Next feller mentions rope is going to jail!”

The man slunk away. Frank got some hard looks. He considered the prisoners but turned away without speaking. They probably had no more idea where their boss was than Frank had. If Will had got a horse he might be halfway to Dallas.

Frank looked for the pair Chavez had left by Bernie’s but the passage was empty. The blacksmith, coming up, tapped Frank on the shoulder. “If you’re lookin’ fer them broncs, I seen Ben leadin’ them off with some others. Boys’re holdin’ ’em all in one of them pens back of the livery.”

Frank eyed the Sharps the smith was toting and told him to go over and see that they stayed there. He looked around him, still worried, and was about to head for the hotel to check on Sandrey when he thought he saw movement in the slot separating Ben’s place from the barber shop. When he looked more carefully he guessed he had been mistaken. No reason for Will to be back there — nor anyone else, he told himself sourly. Keyed up like he was a man could see just about anything. He went on a few steps then swung around and cut over.

He stopped a moment in the deeper gloom of Ben’s overhang, thinking the rifle might be more of a nuisance than help in close quarters. While he was debating abandoning it he got the feeling again of eyes boring into him and looked edgily around, discovering nothing.

Keeping hold of the Winchester, Frank stepped into the alley. In the murk he paused, listening, testing the place for whatever it might tell him. But with all that wind he finally gave up.

Lifting Will’s pistol from his holster he again stepped ahead. Midway through it occurred to him young Church might have arranged to play decoy on the chance of pulling Frank into a bind. This didn’t seem too likely. He would have had to got hold of Tularosa; seeking and finding that fellow weren’t the same. The man was like a damn wolf!

Frank stopped in his tracks. He’d heard nothing ahead of him or anything behind but the safety mechanism of primitive instincts was sounding an alarm.

He gripped the pistol with tightening fingers, taking comfort in the feel of it. Bending, he put the rifle down, trying from this angle to catch a larger view. He didn’t discover anything and, straightening, went on, doubly conscious of the risk of sending a stray tin clattering. He couldn’t be sure he had reloaded. Ten steps from the end of the passage he decided it was better to be certain than sorry.

He crouched again, forced to bring both hands to the task. The gun had five rounds in it. He glanced once more front and back and had just flicked open the loading gate to put one under the hammer when sudden awareness of danger brought his eyes up, rounding, frantic.

All his reflexes locked, seeing that shape so startlingly in front of him. He presently realized the fellow had his back to him, had ducked into the slot to conceal himself from something else. Even as this came to Frank the man in front of him wheeled and froze, stiff with shock.

Now that Frank could see in this gloom, enough reflected light reached the man from the street to reveal Will Church in the startled blob of those gone-awry features.

Church, recovering, stumbled backward, striving to reach shelter even as he brought up his hand. With Frank desperately scrabbling to get his gun into action, Church backed out of the alley, the walls briefly lighting to the flash of his fire.

The double concussion hammered Frank to the ground. It was like a white-hot iron had touched him. After that he lost track. He knew a gun was still pounding but he didn’t feel the bullets. Too numbed, he supposed; and got his hands on the pistol.

He pushed his chest off the ground and there was nothing to shoot at. Will was down, writhing, groaning. Frank thought the fool had shot himself — until his widening stare found the girl.

He licked cracked lips. He had to shape them twice before her name got past the dryness of his throat. Then he thought she didn’t hear it.

But this was shock, delayed reaction. Her head came around as he was getting to his feet. She dropped Fles’ gun and rushed into Frank’s arms.

He had told her to stay in the hotel, to keep her door shut, but “Sandrey — Sandrey!” was all he could say. She seemed content; and it came over Frank that achieving social acceptance in the eyes of Kimberland and people like the Churches lacked a long way of being as important to a man as hooking up with a competent woman.

Now the crowd drawn by the shots was all around them, shoving and jostling for a look at Will Church. Sandrey said, hanging onto Frank, “When I couldn’t stand worrying about this fellow any longer I left the hotel. I saw Will Church slip into this alley. Then I saw Frank starting over here. I knew he was after Church. I had that road scout’s gun; I went round the other side.” She paused to say thoughtfully, “Church didn’t know about Frank, I guess. Time Church got to the back I wasn’t far off, heading toward him. I expect he heard me, got rattled, ducked back and saw Frank.”

“I was loadin’ his pistol,” Frank said disgustedly.

Sandrey squeezed his arm. “I didn’t know what to do. I was practically on top of him when Church brought his gun up. I guess I kind of went out of my head. Next I knew, Church was down and — ”

“Yah,” said Councilman Krantz. “Frank couldn’t done no different. Justifiable homicide. Ve got a goot marshal. Ve goin’ to raise his pay — ”

“Give the star to Chavez,” Frank said. “I’m getting hitched.”

The storekeeper’s shrewd eyes jumped to Sandrey and back again. “Veddingk bells, iss it? Ve vill gif you a bonus!”

Frank went over and bent down beside Will, others crowding around. Will Church wasn’t going to make it. Frank got up. “Expect we could use that bonus, me and Sandrey, but — ” Frank broke off. “Where is she?”

The whole crowd looked around, everyone staring toward the mouth of the passage. The pit of Frank’s belly knotted and the cold got into the marrow of his bones. Backing into the comparative brightness of the street were two locked shapes.

Tularosa!

“Keep back if you want this frail to stay healthy!”

The man’s left arm was wrapped around Sandrey’s waist, making a shield of her. Frank was still holding the loaded pistol but might just as well have tried to attack with his teeth. As the outlaw backed into the shadows, Frank, unable longer to contain himself, started after them. The girl redoubled her struggles, making the gunfighter lurch with her efforts. Flame, like a snake, darted out of his hand. Frank, flung half around, crashed into the wall. When he got himself off it his left arm hung useless. He was barely in time to see Tularosa disappear with the girl in the direction of the river.

Frank stumbled into the street. Someone yelled from the darkness: “Arnold — Arnold!” and a thunder of hoofs swept over the bridge. Cut off, Tularosa came dragging the girl back, trying to make it to the livery. Frank saw Arnold’s crew riding hellity-larrup but it was plain Tularosa would get under cover before they’d be able to come into range. The blacksmith with his Sharps was somewhere back of the stable but this was Frank’s job and that girl out there was Sandrey.

“Now, Frank — now!” she cried, and hauled her feet up, folding. The full weight of her, hanging from the killer’s arm, pulled him off balance and he had to let go of her.

Frank fired two shots and saw Tularosa stagger. He fell onto a knee and Frank emptied his gun.

Krantz came up, fairly bursting with excitement. “A goot marshal! Py Gott! Ve gif you two bonus!”

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