Bannerman the Enforcer 45 Read online

  His grip eased and Yancey bared his teeth, twisted around and drove an elbow hard into Marsh’s ribs. The outlaw fell, landing on his knees and sagging forward, hugging himself, sick and battered.

  Yancey swung towards the men who were running up, the rifle butt braced hard against his hip. He worked the lever and the gun roared. The first outlaw stopped in his tracks, threw his arms high in the air, spun away and collapsed. The rifle bucked again and another outlaw flew back as if someone had jerked a wire that was fastened around his neck.

  Yancey spun to his left as someone leapt at him from the corner of the cabin. A boot kicked the rifle from his grip. A gun barrel slammed into his belly and he dropped to his knees, gasping for breath, hugging his middle. A boot slammed into his side and knocked him full length across Cotton Satterlee’s boots.

  A gun barrel was pressed under his right ear and Morgan Satterlee said, “Just bat an eyelid, Bannerman, and I’ll blow your head clear across the canyon.”

  Yancey froze.

  The other outlaws were gathering around now, guns in their hands. Cotton was getting up groggily. Marsh huddled against the cabin wall, looking sick. Tina Gunn stood unsteadily in the doorway of the cabin, staring at Yancey. Morgan Satterlee glanced at her coldly.

  “Well, little lady, Bannerman’s big play didn’t exactly come off, did it?”

  Tina frowned. “You—you don’t think he was trying to escape, do you?”

  “Why the hell else would he tackle two armed men and then start shootin’? But it was a loco try.”

  “Exactly! He’d have to be crazy to tackle two armed men, wouldn’t he?” Tina said. “That’s what he is—crazy! I—I don’t want to be locked up with him! He’s liable to go off his head and kill me!”

  Morgan Satterlee stared at her expressionlessly for a long moment, then he pushed her back into the cabin and indicated that one of the outlaws close the door.

  “Those two men he shot,” Morgan said. “They dead?”

  “Never seen deader,” said Rick Satterlee. There was a six-gun in his hand aimed at Yancey’s chest. “I should never’ve brought him here, Morg. I’m sorry.”

  Morgan looked thoughtfully at Yancey swaying on his feet. “Mebbe you did the right thing, Rick. A man like Bannerman’s a good sight better than those two he just dropped.”

  Rick looked at his brother sharply and the other outlaws murmured sullenly.

  “I have a question for you, Bannerman,” the outlaw leader said. “You want to join up with us?”

  “Not interested,” Yancey said crisply. “I just want to hide out for a few days and then move on like I said last night.”

  “And take the girl with you?”

  Yancey shrugged. “I ain’t interested in her. She’s served her purpose.”

  Morgan’s eyes narrowed. “You’d leave her here with us?”

  “If that’s what you want. No skin off my nose.”

  The outlaw chief studied him closely. “You ain’t much like the Bannerman we used to hear about up north.”

  “I don’t give a good damn what you heard,” Yancey growled. “I got no more use for Tina Gunn. You could likely hold her for ransom. Her father’s a senator. He has a lot of railroad stock and a couple of ranches down in Pecos country.”

  “Do you know the senator?”

  “Not very well. I’ve met him, though, and I checked him out for security. He’s a sick man.”

  “And his daughter was nursin’ for Dukes’ sawbones?” Morgan said disbelievingly.

  Yancey shrugged. “I asked her about that. She said she wanted to do somethin’ useful with her life. Sounded reasonable to me. There are quite a few rich women who do that kind of thing. Some even work in soup kitchens.”

  Morgan grunted and looked around at his men. At that moment Cotton fully regained consciousness and two men helped him to his feet.

  “Cott, what do you want to do with the girl?” Morgan asked. It took a moment for the question to sink in.

  “Bannerman’s girl?”

  “She’s not mine,” Yancey said. “I just took her as my ticket to get clear of Austin.”

  Cotton kept staring at Yancey. “Too bad. I’d enjoy it a lot more if she was your girl.” He turned to Morgan. “Leave her with me. I’ll think of somethin’.” He leered.

  Morgan put away his gun suddenly and hooked his thumbs under his narrow, saddle-stamped belt. “Bannerman, you’re a wild one. Rick told me all about what you been doin’ in Austin.” He grinned wolfishly. “You’re an outlaw now, a branded killer.”

  Yancey snorted. “I’ve been killin’ for years. Long as I did it for Dukes, I was a good citizen. Just ’cause I nailed a couple of hombres who got in my way, without his sanction, now I’m an outlaw, a killer on the loose ...”

  Morgan shook his head and gave a crooked smile. “You ain’t on the loose by any means, mister. Around here, you don’t even spit without my say-so, savvy?”

  “I told you that I don’t aim to stick around,” Yancey said.

  “Mebbe we got other ideas on that.”

  Yancey frowned and rubbed hard at his forehead. “So?”

  “I’ve sent a man to Austin to find out a few things, Bannerman. What happens to you depends on what he comes back with.”

  “To hell with you, Satterlee. I ain’t interested in whatever it is your man’s lookin’ for. I just want to head out and get a long ways from here. Dukes’ll have a price on my head by now and I don’t like the idea of your men maybe makin’ plans to collect the bounty.”

  Morgan laughed. “Hell, man, don’t you think we already thought about that? No, I ain’t holdin’ you because of any bounty. Still, if I decide to kill you, I might as well try to get somethin’ out of this. Meantime, you stay put. You can move around the camp as long as it’s inside the square of huts. If you try to step outside that area you’ll be shot, savvy?”

  Yancey tightened his mouth and nodded. “All right. But you could be rid of me if you just give me a mount to ride out on.”

  Momentarily, Morgan looked puzzled about something. Then he glanced at Rick and Cotton. “All right, let’s go. Rest of you bury them two. And leave Bannerman be, savvy?”

  The men didn’t like the last part. In their minds, the Enforcer was the enemy for killing two of their kind. But no one in his right mind would go against Morgan Satterlee’s orders.

  Yancey picked up his hat, dusted himself off and went for a stroll around the camp as the three Satterlees entered the biggest cabin.

  Inside, the three brothers sat down at a crude table and Morgan invited them to help themselves to whiskey in a stone jug. There was a buxom girl sitting on an untidy bed. She was only half-dressed. Morgan caught her eye and jerked his head towards the door. She pouted as she climbed out of bed, then she picked up her blouse and skirt and made her way to the door.

  Morgan leaned his elbows on the table and looked at his brothers. “What do you make of Bannerman? You first, Rick.”

  The youngest Satterlee shrugged. “I seen him kill that Ranger and gun-whip another. You seen him tackle Cott and Lefty and flatten Butch and Riley. He’s pure hell on two feet, if you ask me.”

  “Cotton?”

  Cotton Satterlee scowled. “He can fight all right, and he’s a real tough case. I guess he’s gotta be loco to do what he did. As an Enforcer Bannerman always had a high rep. If you get a close look at his eyes, like I did when he grabbed my gun, I reckon you’ll have to go along with the idea that he’s gone plumb loco.”

  “Reckon we can use him then?”

  Cotton hooked down a whiskey and pursed his lips before answering. “We could use him all right—if we could trust him.”

  “You don’t?”

  “Hell, he worked for Dukes for years, didn’t he? Sure, it might be that somethin’s sendin’ him off into killin’ spells, but—well, I dunno, Morgan. I’d never feel safe with him around, not with the reputation Bannerman’s got as the governor’s top man.”

  “How abou
t you, Rick?”

  The youngest of the three brothers shrugged. “I only used him and the girl to help me get away. So he’d let me tag along I told him I had a place for him to hole up in, which is the only reason why I brought him here. Like I said, I seen him kill a Ranger with my own eyes. That’s enough to make him an outlaw. But I never figured to have him workin’ with us.”

  Morgan nodded. “Well, we’ll see. Zack’s checkin’ out a few things in Austin. I’ve got me a line right into the governor’s mansion that I can use when I have to, and this is one of those times.”

  “Do you figure he could be a plant?” Rick asked.

  “I dunno,” Morgan said.

  “He couldn’t be,” Cotton said. “Would they let Bannerman kill and maim lawmen and then kidnap a senator’s daughter? Anyway, what would he be planted for?”

  “That’s a stupid question, seein’ why we’re here,” Morgan growled. “Anyway, I’ll just sit on it till Zack gets back.” He peered closely at Rick whose hair was beginning to darken at the roots. “Whole deal hinges on one thing, Rick.”

  The young outlaw looked blank. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I wonder if you were recognized as a Satterlee when they nabbed you for that whore’s murder.”

  Eight – Confusion

  Cato swore.

  After moving out of the canyon where he had killed Riviera, Cato had searched for a way through rock-strewn hills so he could reach the area under the peak with the broken face. But he couldn’t find a trail, though he’d been searching for just under four hours. If there was one, it was cleverly hidden. Cranky and frustrated, he rode into one of the dozen or so canyons he’d entered since morning. He looked up at the towering peak. He was closer to it here, but unless he could sprout wings, there was no way to get to it.

  Cato shook his head. A man would have to be a human fly to climb the canyon’s sheer walls. Still, something kept him from riding away. He walked his mount back a little and studied the walls closely. There were places where a man could get a grip; cracks in the stone that would take straining fingers and the scuffed toes of his boots. Here and there was a small indentation in the rock wall where he might rest a spell. He began to sweat at the thought of such a climb. But it was the only way to get closer to the spot where the breed had said the Satterlees’ hideout was located.

  It was pure hell, inching his way up the sheer wall. Twice he slipped and had to hang on by his fingertips while his scrabbling boots located a toe-hold. His fingers were aching and the skin was torn. But he was nearly to the top now. The sun was sinking fast and the wall was in deep shadow.

  So far he hadn’t seen any sign of a guard and he wondered if he was risking his neck for nothing. But he discounted the possibility that Rivieta had lied to him; the breed had been too far gone for that.

  The warmth of triumph suddenly surged through Cato.

  Five feet to go and he would be at the top!

  The wind howled and his arms ached and trembled with all the strain and exertion. Gathering himself together, Cato lunged at the rim. One set of fingers clawed over solid rock. His other hand grasped a tuft of grass that came out by the roots. But his elbow hooked on the top and he dug in and hung there, his ribs hurting where the rim bit into him.

  He hung over the cliff, his legs dangling, only his elbow and fingertips supporting him. Afterwards, he wasn’t able to say how long it took him to scramble onto the rim but he knew he lay there for a long while, gasping for breath, waiting for the trembling in his muscular body to subside and his heart to slow down.

  Then he opened his eyes and saw that he had won out.

  There were campfires far below and to his left.

  When his eyes became used to the new darkness, he saw the shoulders of hills and slopes between him and the camp far down in the canyon. Not far off, the peak stood against the sky, illuminated by the last rays of the dying sun. He plainly saw the Indian’s profile now.

  There had to be guards, Cato thought, so he moved into a patch of blackness between two large rocks, sliding the Manstopper free of its holster. The gun had been held in place during the precarious climb by a loop of rawhide hooked around the hammer-spur, snugging the big gun firmly into the leather.

  It took him maybe twenty minutes to spot a guard. First, he heard a scraping sound over a dip in the trail. Straining to see, he caught the glint of gun metal, and then, briefly, the silhouette of the man’s hat against the sky as he crossed between two rocks. He was going down trail, away from Cato.

  The Enforcer let his breath out slowly. Then he turned and started to walk to the camp.

  It took him two hours to find his way down in the darkness. Once he fell over an embankment and landed on a slope of sand. Crawling, he snaked down a rain gully to a ledge below and climbed down hand over hand, gripping rocks embedded in the embankment. There was a tree whose foliage reached to within inches of his feet. Testing a branch for strength, he grabbed it and swung out and amongst the leaves. He crouched there on a limb, watching movement in the camp below.

  He couldn’t recognize anyone but he counted nine men and three women.

  There was one cabin the men seemed to be keeping an eye on. Lamplight showed dimly in a window. Men and women entered and left the other cabins, but not this one.

  There was drinking. Stone jugs were being passed around but there was little noise and no drunken laughter. This was a disciplined bunch, and Cato was convinced they were members of the Satterlee gang. All information on the Satterlee bunch attested to the fact that they were highly disciplined.

  Cato stole around in the darkness well beyond the light of the fires and approached the dimly lit cabin from the rear. Pushing back his hat, he looked through the window—and caught his breath.

  Yancey Bannerman sat on the floor, a stub of candle burning in a cut-down bean can. He looked weary and haggard and there were bruises on his face. Cato couldn’t see the girl.

  Cato strained to see into the dark corners of the cabin. When he was sure that Yancey was alone, he rapped on the grimy glass. Yancey snapped his head up instantly. Cato rapped again.

  The big Enforcer was on hands and knees now, but he wasn’t looking towards the window; he was watching the door. He stayed frozen for a long minute before moving in a crouch until he was at the window. He didn’t take his eyes off the door.

  Cato scratched at the glass with his fingernails.

  “Who is it?” Yancey hissed.

  “Cato.”

  He heard Yancey suck in his breath. For a moment Yancey stared straight into his eyes. The big Enforcer’s face was contorted.

  “What the hell’re you doin’ here?” Yancey demanded.

  “I came to bust you out.”

  “Go to hell!”

  Cato blinked, shocked by the unexpected reaction. He couldn’t think of anything to say; his mind went completely blank. Finally he found words:

  “Yance, for hell’s sake, what’s goin’ on?”

  “Get outa here before you get caught!” Yancey gritted. “I’m not leaving”

  “You loco or somethin’?”

  Yancey looked at Cato again and the small Enforcer shuddered as he saw the twisted mask that was Yancey’s face. His eyes were wild and ... Was that a plea in his eyes? Cato couldn’t be sure. It might just be another crazy glint ...

  “Vamoose, Johnny! And for hell’s sake don’t get caught. If they grab you, there’s nothin’ I can do to save your neck!”

  “Goddamn it, I’m tryin’ to save your neck, Yance! And I risked mine to get here. I’m s’posed to shoot you on sight! Shoot to kill!”

  Yancey stiffened. “Dukes’ orders?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you don’t aim to obey him?”

  “Hell, Yance, we been pards too long! Look, I know there’s somethin’ queer goin’ on here—and I think I’ve got it figured.”

  “Just get the hell gone and away from here, Johnny!” There was definitely a plea in Yancey’s vo
ice now. “I can’t go with you.”

  “It’s a job, isn’t it?” Cato said quietly. “An undercover job?” Yancey snapped his head around and started to laugh but cut it off with a snort. He shook his head.

  “Yes it is!” Cato insisted. “When Slocum was arrested for killin’ that whore, somebody recognized him as Rick Satterlee. We heard rumors they were holed up here in the Texas Breaks and we wondered what they were doin’. But we figured we had no chance of findin’ ’em. Hell, the whole damn army got foxed out of their minds lookin’ for owlhoots in here. So somebody got the idea of plantin’ a man in the cell with Slocum, who didn’t think anybody knew his real identity. That old head wound of yours was a perfect cover. Dukes didn’t let me in on it so it’d look better when I reacted to you goin’ loco. The idea was for you to break loose with Slocum and get him to lead you here. Am I right?”

  Yancey was silent for a long moment. “That’d be crazy, wouldn’t it, seein’ as how I killed a couple of Rangers?”

  “Dunno if you did. No one had a chance to see any blood. They fell on their faces and got carried off pronto. Could’ve been setups.” He paused. “The girl’s the part that I can’t figure. Where is she?”

  Yancey’s mouth tightened. “Cotton Satterlee’s taken her off to his cabin.” He turned to the window abruptly, looking at Cato’s pale face through the smudged glass. “Okay, Johnny, you’re right. It is a set-up. But you’ll blow it all if you get caught hangin’ about! I dunno how you even found your way here—but you gotta get out without bein’ seen. There’s a feller due back from Austin, Zack Markham. He’s been checkin’ out my story. He’s got to be allowed to get back here with what he found out. Which means if you run into him, get lost. Savvy?”

  Cato didn’t answer at first. “There’s just the girl, Yancey. I figured the rest out after I nailed Pete Riviera and he told me he’d recognized Slocum. But the girl—a senator’s daughter, taken as a hostage. I can’t figure out that one.”

  “Forget it,” Yancey said. “Now vamoose!”

  “What’s botherin’ you about that girl, Yance?”