quandary. They were four to two. Still, this man said he knew Cassidy, and--
Piute Bill had ignored Robbins. He rode to the corral and leaned toward the bars. Robbins, his face flushed with anger, turned back to Galway. "Stop him! Or I'll kill you!"
Tom Galway's lips smiled, but his eyes did not "Gorman, this kid's askin' for it."
Robbins' hand streaked for his gun and Gal-way's sorrel sidestepped suddenly at a touch of the spur. Galway fired... then again.
Robbins, his gun half-drawn, stopped dead still, staring at Galway, his eyes blank and unseeing.
Swearing viciously, Gorman went for his gun, trapped into a gun battle he had not wanted. Galway fired, knocking one man into the cabin wall where he fell, knocking the man beside him off balance.
Piute Bill, half behind them, turned at the first shot and fired at Gorman, who went down, his fingers digging into the earth.
The last man dropped his six-shooter as if it were red-hot and flattened against the wall. Galway looked at him over his gun.
The horses were out of the corral and starting toward the bottleneck opening.
Piute Bill's Winchester was ready, and Galway looked at the last man. "You tell Digger Cassidy to stay on his own side of the creek. Tell him Galway said that, Galway of Tombstone!"
He turned his horse away, watching the man. "And you tell Digger I didn't start the shooting. It was that fool kid, Robbins."
The horses would head for their own corral, now that they were free, but they could always hurry them along a bit.
They were almost out of the bottleneck when a sharp, feminine voice came from the aspens. "All right! Hold up there!"
A buxom, determined-looking young woman of perhaps thirty stepped from the trees. She held a double-barreled shotgun as if she knew how to use it.
Galway and Piute Bill drew up warily. A man with a shotgun was bad enough, but a woman--
"What's the trouble, ma'am?" Galway asked politely. "Can we do something for you?"
"You killed my man back there, and if you think you're gettin' off scot-free, think again!"
Piute Bill started to speak, then swallowed and looked helplessly at Galway.
Lifting his hand slowly, Tom Galway removedhis hat. "Now, I'm sorry to hear that, ma'am, but those men stole my horses and when I came after them they made the mistake of trying to shoot it out."
He noted no sign of tears. "Ma'am? Which one was it, Robbins?"
"That puppy?" Contempt was in her tone. "He killed a few tenderfeet and figured he was a tough man. My man was Ned Wavers."
"We're almighty sorry, ma'am," Galway said gently. "We came after our horses. We'd no intention of killing anybody."
"But you did!" There was no grief in her tone, just a hard matter-of-factness. "Ned wasn't much," she said, "but he made me a home, and when he wasn't drunk he took care of me. Now I'll be left here for Cassidy and that bullyin' Tinto Bill."
Tom Galway smiled. "Why, ma'am, if you would rather not stay here, and if it is a home you're looking for, we've got one for you!"
She was, Tom decided, quite a pretty woman. Moreover, she looked neat, and clean. "Of course," he added, "you'd have to be able to cook."
"There isn't a better cook west of the Pecos," she said flatly, "and I can make pies--"
"Of course," Galway said, smiling, "and we've got just the place for you! It's a pretty little stone house by a creek, and a good, thoughtful man to go with it."
"Hey!" There was sheer panic in Piute's eyes. "Look, you can't-- I"
"A good, thoughtful man, ma'am, and a good provider. He's one of the finest hunters around, always has meat for the table."
The shotgun lowered. "What's going on here?" The woman was puzzled. "Somehow, I don't under..."
"Ma'am"--Tom Galway rested his palms, one atop the other, on the saddle horn--"ma'am, this gent with me is Piute Bill. He's a known andrespected man. Now he's a mite on the shady side of forty, but steady. He can fork a bronc with any man, one of the best hunters around and he's got him that stone cabin
Piute Bill had ignored Robbins. He rode to the corral and leaned toward the bars. Robbins, his face flushed with anger, turned back to Galway. "Stop him! Or I'll kill you!"
Tom Galway's lips smiled, but his eyes did not "Gorman, this kid's askin' for it."
Robbins' hand streaked for his gun and Gal-way's sorrel sidestepped suddenly at a touch of the spur. Galway fired... then again.
Robbins, his gun half-drawn, stopped dead still, staring at Galway, his eyes blank and unseeing.
Swearing viciously, Gorman went for his gun, trapped into a gun battle he had not wanted. Galway fired, knocking one man into the cabin wall where he fell, knocking the man beside him off balance.
Piute Bill, half behind them, turned at the first shot and fired at Gorman, who went down, his fingers digging into the earth.
The last man dropped his six-shooter as if it were red-hot and flattened against the wall. Galway looked at him over his gun.
The horses were out of the corral and starting toward the bottleneck opening.
Piute Bill's Winchester was ready, and Galway looked at the last man. "You tell Digger Cassidy to stay on his own side of the creek. Tell him Galway said that, Galway of Tombstone!"
He turned his horse away, watching the man. "And you tell Digger I didn't start the shooting. It was that fool kid, Robbins."
The horses would head for their own corral, now that they were free, but they could always hurry them along a bit.
They were almost out of the bottleneck when a sharp, feminine voice came from the aspens. "All right! Hold up there!"
A buxom, determined-looking young woman of perhaps thirty stepped from the trees. She held a double-barreled shotgun as if she knew how to use it.
Galway and Piute Bill drew up warily. A man with a shotgun was bad enough, but a woman--
"What's the trouble, ma'am?" Galway asked politely. "Can we do something for you?"
"You killed my man back there, and if you think you're gettin' off scot-free, think again!"
Piute Bill started to speak, then swallowed and looked helplessly at Galway.
Lifting his hand slowly, Tom Galway removedhis hat. "Now, I'm sorry to hear that, ma'am, but those men stole my horses and when I came after them they made the mistake of trying to shoot it out."
He noted no sign of tears. "Ma'am? Which one was it, Robbins?"
"That puppy?" Contempt was in her tone. "He killed a few tenderfeet and figured he was a tough man. My man was Ned Wavers."
"We're almighty sorry, ma'am," Galway said gently. "We came after our horses. We'd no intention of killing anybody."
"But you did!" There was no grief in her tone, just a hard matter-of-factness. "Ned wasn't much," she said, "but he made me a home, and when he wasn't drunk he took care of me. Now I'll be left here for Cassidy and that bullyin' Tinto Bill."
Tom Galway smiled. "Why, ma'am, if you would rather not stay here, and if it is a home you're looking for, we've got one for you!"
She was, Tom decided, quite a pretty woman. Moreover, she looked neat, and clean. "Of course," he added, "you'd have to be able to cook."
"There isn't a better cook west of the Pecos," she said flatly, "and I can make pies--"
"Of course," Galway said, smiling, "and we've got just the place for you! It's a pretty little stone house by a creek, and a good, thoughtful man to go with it."
"Hey!" There was sheer panic in Piute's eyes. "Look, you can't-- I"
"A good, thoughtful man, ma'am, and a good provider. He's one of the finest hunters around, always has meat for the table."
The shotgun lowered. "What's going on here?" The woman was puzzled. "Somehow, I don't under..."
"Ma'am"--Tom Galway rested his palms, one atop the other, on the saddle horn--"ma'am, this gent with me is Piute Bill. He's a known andrespected man. Now he's a mite on the shady side of forty, but steady. He can fork a bronc with any man, one of the best hunters around and he's got him that stone cabin
Similar Books
