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Authors: Matt Chisholm

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‘I tell you what,' he said through his yellow teeth. ‘You an' me'll go get Clem together.'

McAllister couldn't think of anything to say to that. He knew Shultz had him by the short hairs.

‘All right,' he said. Maybe Billy could pull something. Maybe then they could jump Moose and save the girl. The idea of being beaten by Brenell and Shultz went against the grain. He cursed venemously to himself. But one thing was clear now. Shultz was working for Brenell.

‘How far is it?' Shultz asked.

‘Not far.'

‘Horse ride?'

‘No.'

Shultz gave him a long look, reached inside his coat with his left hand and produced a revolver. It was small, but it could kill a man. McAllister respected it.

‘Stay right there. Don't move a hand,' Shultz said. He walked backward to the door behind him and spoke to Moose over his shoulder. McAllister tried to see the girl, but he could not. Then Shultz slammed the door and beckoned him to go ahead. McAllister walked out of the room and Shultz followed. They went down the rear stairs, along the corridor and reached the storeroom door. McAllister glanced around at Shultz. The man was watching him like a hawk. He raised his hand and rapped on the panel of the door. It wasn't the right signal for Billy. At least McAllister could give him a little warning of what was to come.

There was a slight pause before the bolt was withdrawn and Billy's face appeared in the doorway. Shultz swung his gun on him.

‘Drop your gun on the floor.'

Billy hesitated.

McAllister said: ‘He has the girl.'

Billy looked startled and asked: ‘What girl?'

‘Rosa.'

Billy fingered his gun out and dropped it on the floor. Shultz gestured them into the room and followed them in. His eyes fell on Clem who now was making desperate noises and straining at his bonds.

Shultz said: ‘Cut him loose.'

Billy gave McAllister a despairing look, then pulled a small knife from his pocket and opened it. Kneeling he cut Clem's bonds. As soon as his hands were free, Clem tore the gag from his mouth and stood up. He was shaking and he looked like hell. He rubbed his wrists, limped around on his wounded leg and said: ‘Christ, I mighta died there. I coulda died. These two Goddam Indians …'

Shultz sneered and said: ‘Run along to your daddy and tell him you come with my compliments.'

Clem looked mean.

‘Not so damned fast,' he said. ‘These two Indians had their fun. Now I'm gonna have mine.' He looked as if he didn't know who to hit first.

Shultz laughed.

‘Be my guest,' he said. ‘Take ‘em both.'

Clem grinned crookedly. He swung a fist, fixed his eye on Billy and lurched awkwardly on his wounded leg toward him. McAllister stuck out his foot, Clem started to go down, wildly flailing at the air with his arms, McAllister hurled his weight at him and drove him into Shultz. The manager was smashed back against the wall and the two men fell to the floor. Shultz yelled in rage and fright; he tried pushing Clem clear of him and to line the gun up on McAllister, but the big man dove over Clem, smashing the gun to one side. The weapon clattered to the floor.

Shultz was on his feet with an incredible speed, knife in hand, lunging for McAllister as he heaved himself off the floor. McAllister parried the thrust, forearm against forearm, got inside Shultz's reach and smashed his head into the other's face. Shultz staggered back against the wall and Billy and McAllister closed in on him.

The blade flashed in Billy's direction and the fair man
fell back with a cry. McAllister drove a fist into Shultz's face. The door slammed. As Shultz slid to the floor, McAllister turned.

Clem!

He hurried to the door and tore it open. Clem was disappearing down the corridor.

Let him go,
McAllister thought.
Only Rosa matters now.

He turned back into the storeroom and saw the two men lying on the floor. Blood had marked Billy's coat at one shoulder. Shultz looked as though a house had fallen on him. McAllister had to move fast. He had to get Rosa away from Moose before Clem told his father what he had heard.

‘On your feet,' he told Billy.

Billy said: ‘I'm hurt.'

McAllister snarled: ‘This ain't no time to be hurt, boy. Get up and tie this sonovabitch.'

Billy looked like he wanted to bring up his dinner, but somehow he crawled to his feet and gathered the ropes that had been used to tie Clem. McAllister scooped up Shultz's gun and ran for the stairs. He went up them two at a time on tiptoe. At the door to Rosa's room he stopped to get his breath. He opened the door slightly, saw Mart lying motionless on the bed and switched his eyes to the door of the inner room. Watching this, he crossed the room to Mart, exchanged Shultz's gun for his own and his eyes met the sheriff's.

McAllister whispered: ‘Ball's opened, Mart.'

Did the sheriff smile?

McAllister walked back to the main door, opened it, slammed it and shouted: ‘If anything happens to the girl, Shultz, I'll kill you.' He mumbled Shultz's reply. He crossed the room and opened the inner door.

The girl was sitting in a chair facing him. Her hands were tied behind her and her face was chalk white. Moose was relaxed at the window. He turned his head as the door opened and stared into the black eye of the Remington.

Moose didn't hesitate. There was a gun in his right hand and he jerked it up.

McAllister fired.

The man stared at him with wide eyes for a full second then staggered backward. The sill of the window caught him
behind the knees and he crashed through the glass, his massive weight smashing the woodwork of the window. He disappeared from sight amid a rain of glass.

McAllister thrust away his gun and jumped for the girl. It took no more than a moment to free her hands. She came limply in his arms and he held her for a brief second.

‘My God,' he said.

‘Rem, Rem, Rem,' she whispered.

He lifted her up and carried her into the other room. He laid her on the couch. Then he apparently forgot her. He went over to Mart and looked down at him.

‘Deputise me, Mart,' he said.

The sheriff's lips moved.

‘You're deputised,' he said.

McAllister lifted the badge from the man's vest and fixed it on himself. He grinned briefly. Going back to Rosa, he kissed her lightly on the forehead and said: ‘Wait up for me, honey.'

He walked out of the room, through the saloon and out onto the street. He went straight to Moose who was lying in the dust. To his amazement, the man was still alive. He told the men there, gathered around like flies attracted to blood: ‘This man's under arrest. Tote him down to the sheriff's office.'

‘He's hurt bad,' a man said.

‘He's still under arrest.'

He went on to the hotel where Brenell was staying, slamming his way into the lobby and coming face to face with Brenell himself. Behind him were three armed men and Clem. The last looked like death warmed up.

‘Has sonny boy told daddy his story?' McAllister thrust at the rancher. ‘Has he told him about the girl held with a knife at her throat?'

Brenell went purple with rage. He roared: ‘You're under arrest, McAllister. I'm making a citizen's arrest. You kidnapped my son. I'm goin' to finish you.'

‘Like you finished Jim Rigby. You goin' to ride right over me with your hired men, Brenell? You make me sick to the stomach, you an' men like you. Wa-al, you think this over, friend. I'm the law in this town now.'

‘Since when?'

‘Since two minutes back.'

‘This is a mockery.'

‘Ain't it? Tell me what you're goin' to do about it.'

Brenell looked around at his men.

Clem said: ‘Kill him, pa.'

The battered old Remington appeared in McAllister's hand.

‘Go ahead,' he said through his teeth, ‘pull your irons and fill this place with blood. You'll be the first to go, Brenell.'

Brenell changed his tactics.

‘Let's not be hasty, McAllister. Let's talk this over like sensible men.'

‘I ain't bein' sensible with a man who burned another man's house down. You're under arrest, Brenell.'

‘You can't prove a thing, McAllister, and you know it. Any road, didn't you burn my place?'

McAllister smiled blandly and said: ‘I don't know what you're talkin' about.' He allowed his show of rage to disappear. ‘We're quits I reckon. Tell you what I'll do. You rent water rights from Jim Rigby an' maybe I'll forget I hated your guts the minute I set eyes on you.'

Brenell hesitated.

Clem said: ‘Don't you do it, pa. We don't have to take this from anybody. We're the biggest outfit in the country. There ain't nobody can stop us.'

‘Listen to it,' McAllister said. ‘Son, you got hit in the leg. The next one'll be through your fool head.'

The elder Brenell had gone pale. He knew the threat wasn't an idle one.

McAllister added: ‘Shultz and Moose're under arrest. Shultz talked.'

The fight seemed to go out of Carl Brenell. He sighed and passed a tired hand over his forehead. In a dull voice, he said: ‘You win, McAllister.'

McAllister said: ‘It's live quiet, Brenell, or ride out of the country.'

The man nodded.

McAllister backed out of there and went north along the sidewalk, reached Rosa's place and went inside. He had a whiskey at the bar, then walked upstairs. When he went into her bedroom, there was Billy on the couch with Pat weeping
over him calling him her hero. Rosa was on her feet, bending over Mart. McAllister went up and put an arm around her. He looked down at Mart and said: ‘All over, old-timer. Brenell will be a good boy from here on out. If you step on him a mite.'

Rosa reached up and kissed him.

‘Is it really all over?' she asked.

‘I reckon,' he told her.

‘So I suppose you now saddle your horse and ride into the sunset,' she said. There was a touch of sadness in her voice.

‘No,' he said. ‘I'm a mighty sick man. I need to recuperate. You know what that means, girl?'

She dimpled.

‘I have a good idea what it means in your book.'

‘Wrong first time,' he told her. ‘It means a coupla dozen steaks and a gallon of beer.'

She slapped his face. Gently.

For little Joe who
wants to grow up to
be a cowboy

This electronic edition published in 2011 by Bloomsbury Reader

Bloomsbury Reader is a division of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, 50 Bedford Square, London WC1B 3DP

Copyright © P. C. Watts 1969.

First published by Panther Books 1969

The moral right of the author has been asserted

All rights reserved
You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this
publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (including without limitation
electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, printing, recording or otherwise),
without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any
unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution
and civil claims for damages

ISBN: 9781448203024
eISBN: 9781448202690

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BOOK: Blood on Mcallister
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