[Texas Rangers 04] - Ranger's Trail (29 page)

“
I see them.”

“
I think they’ve got it in mind to lift my roll. I’d like to see them disappointed.”

“
Then you’d ought to get you a policeman. I’m a trail hand, is all.”

“
Any policeman I’d find around here may be a friend of theirs. I want you to walk out ahead of me, then wait for me just out of the lamplight.”

“
You fixin’ to use me for a decoy?”

“
They won’t hurt you. I won’t give them the chance.”

The cowboy thought it over for a minute. “I wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t for the money. If you let them kill me I’ll be mad as hell.”

“
Don’t worry. I’ll be right behind you.”

“
So will they.” The cowboy finished his drink. “Oh well, I’ll probably get drowned anyway when we reach the Red River.”

Corey watched the drover walk to the door, then pause to look back at the would-be robbers. He feared that might arouse their suspicion, but the thugs were paying no attention to the cowboy. Their gaze was fixed on Corey. He nodded a silent good night to the bartender, then strode at a leisurely pace across the room and out onto the wooden sidewalk.

The cowboy awaited him, just beyond the lamplight that fell upon the dirt street. Corey said, “Here, swap hats with me. Now start walkin’ yonderway. Walk slow and stay out of the light.”

He ducked into a dark passageway between the saloon and a mercantile store. In a moment he heard footsteps on the boards. A man’s low voice said, “There he goes. Let’s catch him before he gets to that next street-lamp.”

The two footpads passed Corey’s hiding place but did not glance in his direction. He stepped out behind them. Without a word he swung his pistol and slammed it against the woolen hat. The thug went to his knees. His hat rolled across the boards and out into the dirt. Corey clubbed him again for good measure.

The second robber spun around, a small derringer in his hand. Corey struck the pistol barrel down across the man’s hairy knuckles, causing him to drop the tiny weapon. He jammed the muzzle of his six-shooter into the man’s wide-open mouth.

“
If you don’t want me to blow all your teeth out, you’ll raise those hands,” he declared.

The thug’s hands shot into the air.

Corey called, “Cowboy, you can come back now.”

The cowboy stopped but took a moment to size up the situation before he risked returning. He looked down at the robber crumpled on the sidewalk. “You must’ve scared him to death. I didn’t hear you shoot.”

“
Just gave him a Sam Colt massage. He’ll come around directly. Search this one. Be sure he doesn’t have another gun on him.”

The cowboy found no weapon. Corey poked the muzzle into the thug’s stomach. “Are you a fast runner?”

The robber tried to answer but could not summon voice.

Corey said, “Let’s find out. I’ll let you start runnin’. I’ll count to five, then shoot. Now go.”

The cap fell off halfway across the street, but the thug did not stop to retrieve it. Corey counted to five, then put a bullet into a wall just behind the running man. It seemed to encourage him in his speed.

He knelt and went through the fallen robber’s pockets. He found a watch and some folding money. He said, “I’ll bet you don’t even have a pocket watch, cowboy. Here, take this one.” He picked up the derringer. It was an over-and-under model that allowed two shots. “How would you like an extra gun?”

“
I wouldn’t even shoot a rabbit with that little thing. It’d probably make him mad enough to come after me with his teeth bared.”

“
Well, I’ll keep it. Never know when somethin’ like this might come in handy.” It was small enough that a lawman might overlook it. He stuck it in his pocket. Corey also kept the money. That seemed just inasmuch as the thug had intended to take
his
.

He was a little surprised that the shot did not attract curious onlookers. It took more than a single shot to excite the citizens of Hell’s Half Acre. He counted off roughly half the money he had won from the drover. “Much obliged for the help, cowboy. Like a little advice?”

“
As long as it don’t cost me nothin’.”

“
Maybe it’ll save you somethin’. Stick to playin’ mumblety-peg. Poker ain’t your game.”

He was staying in a little ten-by-twelve room above a whiskey mill. He had used it several times during his visits here and knew he did not have to worry about the management giving him away to any policeman who had more curiosity than judgment. The room key had long since been lost, but a door key would only lead to overconfidence. Any burglar worth his salt could pick a lock as easily as he could pick his teeth. A pistol beneath the pillow was much more reliable for protection.

He climbed the outside stairs and started down the short hall toward his door. Instinct told him to pause. He had left the door closed, but now it was slightly ajar. A thin streak of lamplight showed around its edges. Holding his breath, he drew his pistol. He hit the door hard and rushed into the room, then jumped to one side in case someone was waiting for him with a gun.

He almost shot his brother Newley.

The surprise left him speechless, his heart pounding hard. “I like to’ve killed you,” he said when his breath came back. “What the hell are you doin’ here?”

Newley was his next to youngest brother and his favorite of the three. Lacey had always been an irritant to him, cruel and a little dangerous when left to his own devices. Little Anse had always been headstrong and impervious to advice from anyone except Ma and Lacey. Newley was his mother’s obedient lackey to the best of his limited abilities, but he showed occasional signs of thinking for himself when he was not under her shadow.

Newley was in deeper shock than Corey had been. He was still looking down the muzzle of Corey’s pistol. Shakily he said, “For God’s sake put that six-shooter away.”

Corey did. Newley swallowed hard. The color began coming back into his face. He said, “That’s the second time lately I’ve come near gettin’ shot on your account.”

“
You oughtn’t to surprise me like this.”

“
I’ve been huntin’ you from Fort Griffin to kingdom come. This is the third time I’ve been to Fort Worth. I figured you’d show up here sooner or later.”

“
What do you want with me? I told Ma when I left that I wasn’t comin’ back, after she had Lacey kill Alice.”

“
That’s one thing I came to tell you. Alice ain’t dead.”

Corey went stiff, his body tingling. He stared at his brother, not sure he had heard correctly. “Not dead?”

“
Lacey got the shakes and picked the wrong target. It was Alice’s sister he shot, not Alice.”

“
Her sister?” Corey’s head seemed to spin.

“
The one called Josie. It was a natural mistake. Ma was awful put out about it, though. She’s still bound and determined to get Alice.”

A chill passed through Corey. “Not if I can stop her, and I’ll stop her if I have to kill her.” He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. Hell of a thing to say about one’s own mother, he thought, but there weren’t many mothers like Ma Bascom. “I’m glad you found me. That’s good news about Alice.”

“
It ain’t all good. You know Josie was fixin’ to marry a farmer named Shannon.”

“
I remember some talk.”

“
Shannon thinks you’re the one that shot Josie. He’s huntin’ for you with blood in his eyes. He mistook me for you. Came within an inch of killin’ me.” He explained about Shannon breaking into the room at Fat Beulah’s.

Corey demanded, “Didn’t you tell him it wasn’t me that shot Josie?”

“
I never got the chance.”

“
You were probably too scared to think about it.”

This was a new experience for Corey, being sought for something he
didn’t
do. Up to now he had always been guilty as charged. “If he finds me he’ll wish he hadn’t. There ain’t no clodhopper goin’ to get the best of me.”

“
This one might. He used to be a ranger. And he killed little Anse.”

Corey was jarred again. “Little Anse?”

“
You know he always thought he could do anything but walk on water. He thought he could draw and shoot faster than Shannon. But he couldn’t.” Newley explained that Ma had sent him and little Anse out to search for Shannon, to try to kill him before he could find Corey. Shannon had outsmarted them.

Corey’s sense of loss over his youngest brother was tempered by his learning that Alice was still alive. He said, “I saw Shannon once at the Monahan place, so I’ll know him on sight. But first I’ve got to think about Alice. If Ma has her mind set on seein’ her dead, …”

“
You know Ma. She says it has to be done. If Alice ever testified in court she could send us all to the penitentiary. Maybe worse.”

“
I’ll worry about Shannon later. First thing I’ll do is go to the Monahan place and steal Alice away. I’ll take her so far that Ma and Lacey will never find her.”

Newley seemed to approve. Like Corey, he had sometimes questioned Ma’s opinions, though seldom to her face. That took more courage than he could usually muster. “I’ll help you any way I can.”

Corey was aware that Newley had had feelings for Alice. During the time she had been with the Bascom family he had seen Newley watching her with sad hound-dog eyes, wishing. Corey had no intention of sharing her, but he knew Newley would help him get her away. Once Corey and Alice were safe from Ma and Lacey he would cut Newley loose on his own. The boy was weak, but maybe he could find some backbone if he were free from Ma’s poisonous influence.

“
We’ll leave come daylight,” Corey said.

Ma always kept a dog or two. They were essentially worthless except that they alerted anybody within hearing when someone approached the cabin. Corey had heard her say she never expected much of a dog, so no dog had ever disappointed her. She had often been disappointed in her sons.

Corey remembered a number of occasions when she had also been disappointed in her husband, the late Ansel Bascom. She would chase him away with orders never to come back. He would return, however, and she would grudgingly accept him. After all, he usually brought money with him. She had carried on at the top of her lungs when the state police killed him, but Corey had suspected a lot of it was for show. At least she would never have to wonder anymore where he was.

Right now Ma was down to one dog. It barked long and loud until Corey dismounted and chunked a rock at it. It retreated behind the saddle shed and resumed the alarm. Ma stepped out of the picket house, a shotgun in her hands. She lowered it when she recognized the arrivals, but her stern face offered no warm greeting for the prodigal son.

She said, “I’d about decided you never was comin’ back.”

“
I hadn’t figured on it ’til Newley told me Alice is still alive.”

Her face took on an ugly twist. “Only because Lacey ain’t been able to get close enough to the Monahan house for a clean shot. She don’t let herself be seen. I don’t reckon you’ve worked up spine enough to do the job yourself?” She studied him a moment. “No, I didn’t figure you would.”

“
I came here hopin’ I might talk you into leavin’ Alice alone. I’ll take her far away, to where the law never heard of us.”

“
Sooner or later she’d get dissatisfied and want to come home. She’s like a dagger hangin’ over this family.”

“
Not if I take her plumb out of the country.”

“
You’ll have to kill a bunch of Monahans to get her, and she wouldn’t have anything to do with you after that. If she wanted you she’d have come back here already.”

“
Knowin’ you intended to kill her? She’s not a fool.”

“
Maybe not, but you are. If she ever got on a witness stand she’d talk like a revival preacher. Whatever me and Lacey done, we done to protect this family.”

“
Shootin’ the wrong woman and settin’ a ranger on my trail? The best protection I can think of is distance. Once I get Alice, you won’t see any more of me or her.”

“
You ain’t got her yet. We don’t even know for sure if she’s still at the Monahans’. Lacey thinks they might’ve spirited her away someplace.”

“
If so, they can’t take her so far that I can’t find her.”

“
Then you’d better be sure you find her before me and Lacey do. Otherwise …” She shook her head sadly. “I thought I’d raised you better than to let a pretty face turn you against your own. Your poor old pa would be mightily ashamed.”

“
My poor old pa never felt ashamed for anything in his life except gettin’ caught. Where
is
Lacey, anyway?”

Ma jerked her head toward the cabin. “Catchin’ him some rest. He’s laid up many a night watchin’ the Monahan place, hopin’ for another chance at Alice.”

“
You tell him that if he tries again I’ll kill him.”

“
You’d kill your own brother?”

“
Dead as a gut-shot mule.” Corey could not remember a completely happy day he and Lacey had ever spent together. He glanced at Newley. “You comin’ or stayin’ here?”

Newley shrugged as if neither choice offered any pleasure. “I reckon I’ll go along with you.”

Newley showed him where they had buried little Anse beneath a tree a couple of hundred yards from the house. The marker was a cross made from two pieces of pine lumber. Painted on it in crude letters was
Ansl Bascom.

Couldn’t even spell his name right, Corey thought. It didn’t matter much. Nobody was likely to see it except family. The paint would weather away, the cross would fall over and rot, and the grave would be forgotten. It would be as if little Anse had never lived. Other than immediate family and the Bascoms’ victims, no one had ever cared.