Bannerman the Enforcer 16 Page 12

  “We could do it, Young! We could stop Early dead in his tracks right at Uvalde, and you wouldn’t be in trouble. There’ll be no glory in this one. You’ll just have to tuck it away for when you retire and write it up in your memoirs.”

  “No one’d believe me!” Young growled. “Why the hell did you have to offer me an alternative just when I’d made up my mind to chance it anyway? But, leavin’ the badges here is a good idea. A damn good idea!”

  Yancey grinned as Young bawled to his men to take off their badges and hide them amongst the rocks.

  In ten minutes, they were riding fast into Mexico.

  The cantina had no name and few customers this early in the morning. Cato walked in slowly, hand on the butt of the Manstopper. A man was swamping out while another behind the bar was wiping glasses on a dirty rag after dipping them in a bowl of scummy water. A drunk snored in a corner and another man sat hunched over a glass at a table, singing some Mexican tune in a grating voice.

  “Aah, señor,” groaned the barman as Cato entered. He made a weary gesture with his free hand. “We are not yet open. In truth, we are not yet closed from last night. Please, señor. you come back later, eh? Sleep I must have.”

  “That’s okay, amigo,” Cato said easily, leaning his elbows on the bar and taking a cheroot from his shirt pocket. He dragged a vesta across the counter top and fired up. “I don’t want a drink, just some information.”

  Cato took a double eagle from his pocket and pushed the gold piece across the bar. “To help clear your head.”

  The man hesitated for a moment then scooped up the gold. He looked around surreptitiously.

  “What do you wish to know, señor?”

  “Where can I find Merida Yumas?”

  The man’s eyes bulged. “Are you loco!” he squeaked. “That is Valdez’ woman!”

  “I have to see her, amigo. And I have the brother of the gold piece I just gave you.”

  The man bared his teeth in a death’s-head grin. Then he snapped his fingers and held out his hand. Cato dropped the coin into his palm. Then he stepped back fast, bringing up a machete from beneath the bar, brandishing it. Cato tensed.

  “I will tell you where she is! She is with her man, Valdez! And he is not here, señor! Now, I did not say she would be here, I merely said I would tell you where to find her.”

  Cato relaxed slightly. “That’s okay, amigo. Just take it easy. It’s what I wanted to know. She’s with him at Presidio Blanca?”

  The barkeep frowned. “How do you know this?”

  “Never mind that. Is that where she is?”

  “Si. Valdez take all his men there and some of the women go, too. To watch, you know.”

  “Watch what? The slaughter of the gringos?”

  “Aiy! You know plenty, eh? Si, that is right.” He squinted, tightening his grip on the machete. “You are not one of them?”

  “It’s kinda complicated. Listen, amigo, just one more thing: you say Valdez took all his men? He didn’t leave any behind here to guard the gold?”

  The Mexican blinked. “Gold? Here in Uvalde?” He laughed abruptly. “The only gold here, señor, is this that you have just given me.” He held up the two twenty-dollar pieces.

  “My thanks, amigo,” Cato said, straightening. “That’s all I wanted to know.”

  He turned and started out of the cantina, fast. The man behind the bar snapped something in Spanish and Cato whirled, crouching as the Manstopper flashed into his fist. The machete whooshed overhead and stuck, quivering in the doorjamb as Cato’s gun roared and the barkeep seemed to leap up and backwards, flinging out his arms. He crashed into the bottle rack and glass shattered as the man’s body hurtled forward again. Cato spun towards the man who had been singing but who now held a blazing Smith and Wesson in his fist. The lead punched into the adobe behind Cato as the Manstopper bucked against his wrist and the Mexican crashed backwards, his gun blazing into the floor. The dozing ‘drunk’ had also joined in, pulling two guns from under his colorful serape. They blasted, shot after shot, but Cato hurled himself full length and thumbed the toggle on the hammer to the shot barrel, gripped the gun butts with both hands and dropped hammer. The Manstopper thundered, bucking wildly, and the Mexican in the serape was hurled six feet along the wall, splashing the white adobe with blood before cannoning into tables and chairs. The body thudded to the floor amidst a welter of splintering wood.

  Cato turned the smoking gun barrels towards the bug-eyed swamper and the man thrust his arms straight up into the air, pleading in rapid Spanish not to kill him. Cato got slowly to his feet and walked forward, slipping the hammer toggle back to the cartridge barrel.

  He gestured towards the dead barkeeper. “He speakin’ gospel about Valdez takin’ all his men with him?”

  The swamper nodded vigorously, mouth slack with fear, his face sallow, greenish.

  “Valdez and his compadres didn’t rob any train loaded with gold bullion?”

  “No, señor,” the man breathed. “It was all a—a trick. To get this man Early to bring guns.”

  Cato smiled crookedly and shook his head slowly as he began to reload his gun. What a deal! The guns that never were in exchange for gold that never existed.

  Of course Duke Early would never believe him. But there was a simple way of avoiding the unpleasantness that was sure to happen if he rode back and told Early that Valdez had pulled a fast one.

  He simply wouldn’t ride back at all. He’d take off for the border, lickety-split, and see if he could find his way back to Broken-T in time to save Yancey. Cato nodded to the trembling swamper, holstered his big gun and turned and hurried out through the gunsmoke.

  Yancey heard the gunfire, a rattle of many guns, and held up a hand, reining down fast. The Rangers behind swore and pulled reins hard. They all heard the shooting then, looked at Captain Young as he put his mount up beside Yancey.

  “We’re a long ways from Uvalde yet, Bannerman,” he said.

  Yancey, frowning, puzzled. “I know. But someone’s doing a heap of shooting.” He pointed to his right. “Coming from beyond that rise. Let’s go see.”

  He slammed his heels into the bay’s flanks and angled the horse over towards the rise. Young waved his men to follow and put his own mount after Yancey. They thundered up the rise and Yancey quit leather just before they reached the top, leaving his mount while it was still skidding to a stop and running on ahead. He went over, belly down, whipping off his hat, the sound of gunfire very close now.

  He recognized the lone rider instantly; Johnny Cato, riding like the wind up the far side of the slope and, maybe only eighty yards behind, a bunch of men led by Duke Early in black, blazing away at him,. Cato’s horse was zigzagging constantly and he was lying low along its neck. Yancey didn’t wait to see any more. He ran back and leapt into the saddle, yelling to Young and the Rangers as he turned to start riding up to the crest.

  “My pard, Cato. Being chased by Early’s bunch! Somethin’s gone wrong!”

  The Rangers thundered over the crest in a strung-out line, following Young’s brief arm signal, and Johnny Cato started to haul rein as he spotted them. At the same time his horse went down, crashing sideways, hard hit. Cato was flung hard but rolled behind a rock, squirming out of the way of the charging Rangers. He recognized Yancey, not believing his eyes. Then, reloading, he turned to join in the fight again.

  Duke Early was easy to pick out in his black garb and Yancey put his long-striding bay after him as the man broke free of the main bunch and made a run for it back down the slope. The Rangers rode down on the others who were already turning their mounts, shooting wildly, some spilling from leather as Ranger lead found its mark. One of the first to fall was Storm.

  Red Sloane came thundering up the slope, shooting at Cato, and the small agent felt the wind of a slug by his cheek, drew a careful bead and blasted the red-haired gunfighter out of the saddle. George Rainey cut out of the main group, seeing how things were going, and put his mount towards a pass
that showed two hundred yards away. Monk Chater was hit by Ranger lead and had his foot caught in the stirrup, his body bouncing and banging across the barren Mexican countryside as his horse ran wild with the bit between its teeth. Brad Hannis shot a Ranger between the eyes but an instant later somersaulted over the rump of his racing mount with Captain Young’s lead through his heart. Guns roared and horses milled and squealed and kicked wildly and Cato tried to catch a riderless mount but missed and fell headlong. He screwed dirt out of his eyes and saw that Yancey was rapidly overhauling Duke Early out there on the flats.

  Early hipped in the saddle and fired three fast shots in Yancey’s direction. He was aiming at Yancey’s mount, as it presented a better target, and one bullet seared across its chest, forcing it to break its stride and slowing it considerably. The animal grunted, tossed its head, and slowed more. Cursing, Yancey snatched his rifle from the scabbard and swung down, hitting the dirt at a run and throwing himself full length. He propped his elbows against the ground as he levered a shell into the breech, laid the foresight on Duke Early’s broad back, flipped up the tang sight that Cato had fitted, and centered the foresight’s blade in the circle. The Winchester whipcracked once and Early continued to ride on for a few yards, then slowly fell sideways out of the saddle, hit, bounced, rolled several times and then lay still.

  Yancey stood up and walked back to the wounded bay. When he got back to the rise, the Rangers had everything under control and Yancey grinned at Cato as the small man came forward to shake his hand,

  “Hell, and I figured I was on my way to rescue you!” Cato said. “Early and his bunch spotted me and came hellin’. He just wouldn’t believe there wasn’t any gold, you know? Just wouldn’t believe it.”

  “Couldn’t accept that Valdez was as smart as he was, I guess. Jeannie helped me get away.”

  Cato showed his surprise. “Where is she?”

  “Laredo. Captain Young’s promised to turn her loose when he gets back.” He looked at Cato closely. “You want to see her?”

  Cato hesitated and Yancey could see that, for a few moments, he was recalling the good times he and Jeannie had had together, before Storm stepped in.

  Then he shook his head. “No. Let’s get on back to Austin. The governor might have somethin’ excitin’ for us to do.”

  Yancey grinned.

  “He just might, at that!”

  BANNERMAN 16: THE GUNS THAT NEVER WERE

  By Kirk Hamilton

  First Published by The Cleveland Publishing Pty Ltd

  Copyright © Cleveland Publishing Co. Pty Ltd, New South Wales, Australia

  First SMASHWORDS Edition: March 2018

  Names, characters and incidents in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information or storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

  This is a Piccadilly Publishing Book

  Series Editor: Ben Bridges

  Text © Piccadilly Publishing

  Published by Arrangement with The Cleveland Publishing Pty Ltd.

  About the Author

  Keith Hetherington

  aka Kirk Hamilton, Brett Waring and Hank J. Kirby

  Australian writer Keith has worked as television scriptwriter on such Australian TV shows as Homicide, Matlock Police, Division 4, Solo One, The Box, The Spoiler and Chopper Squad.

  “I always liked writing little vignettes, trying to describe the action sequences I saw in a film or the Saturday Afternoon Serial at local cinemas,” remembers Keith Hetherington, better-known to Piccadilly Publishing readers as Hank J. Kirby, author of the Bronco Madigan series.

  Keith went on to pen hundreds of westerns (the figure varies between 600 and 1000) under the names Kirk Hamilton (including the legendary Bannerman the Enforcer series) and Clay Nash as Brett Waring. Keith also worked as a journalist for the Queensland Health Education Council, writing weekly articles for newspapers on health subjects and radio plays dramatizing same.

  More on Keith Hetherington

  The Bannerman Series by Kirk Hamilton

  The Enforcer

  Ride the Lawless Land

  Guns of Texas

  A Gun for the Governor

  Rogue Gun

  Trail Wolves

  Dead Shot

  A Man Called Sundance

  Mad Dog Hallam

  Shadow Mesa

  Day of the Wolf

  Tejano

  The Guilty Guns

  The Toughest Man in Texas

  Manstopper

  The Guns That Never Were

  … And more to come every month!

  But the adventure doesn’t end here …

  Join us for more first-class, action-packed books.

  Regular updates feature on our website and blog

  The Adventures continue…

  The Home of Great Western Fiction!

  More on Kirk Hamilton

  i Rupe Harwood first made a play for Kate Dukes in The Guns of Texas

  ii As told in Manstopper