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Authors: J.A. Johnstone

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BOOK: Hard Luck Money
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Chapter 27
As they had planned beforehand, the gang made their getaway to the south, riding hard for several miles before The Kid and Brattle brought their horses to a stop and signaled for the other outlaws to do likewise.
Brattle raised his voice over the sound of the rain pouring down. “Nobody can follow us in this weather. There’s no point in us keepin’ on this way!”
The Kid nodded, agreeing with him. If anybody had seen them riding away from the railroad tracks, those witnesses would know they had started south. The inevitable search for them would focus on that direction. “We might as well swing west for a ways, then head for the ranch.”
“Sounds good to me. I ain’t no duck! The sooner we’re out of this weather, the better.”
The summer thunderstorm was a powerful one, but it hadn’t spawned any cyclones, as far as The Kid knew. Just hard rain, frequent lightning, and gusty winds.
All of those things started to taper off as the outlaws rode west, traveling at a fast pace but not an all-out gallop as they had been earlier. The farther west they went, the lighter the rain fell, until it stopped completely.
“That’s one good thing about these Texas gully-washers,” Brattle said as the horses splashed through mud puddles. “They don’t usually last very long. Wouldn’t surprise me if we saw the sun shinin’ in a little while.”
His prediction proved to be correct. A short time later, breaks appeared in the clouds, even while thunder still grumbled and growled to the east where the storm had moved on.
Sunlight slanted through those gaps and quickly warmed a day that had turned chilly while the storm was passing through. The air soon felt sticky and steamy. The Kid’s soaked clothes were uncomfortable.
“We made a good haul,” Brattle said with a grin on his ugly face. “The boss said there was supposed to be sixty grand in that money shipment, and from the looks of it, he was right.”
“Yeah, but what’s his share from that? What’s yours?”
“You don’t need to be concerned with that right now. Your share’s goin’ to pay back the boss, remember?”
The Kid shrugged. “I was just wondering how much he’s gonna collect for sitting in that ranch house while the rest of us do the real work and run all the risks.”
Brattle surprised The Kid by throwing his head back and laughing. “You think you’re the first hombre who’s tried to stir up trouble that way? You’re wastin’ your time, Keene. All of us are collectin’ more loot than we ever did workin’ on our own. We don’t care how much the boss makes for bein’ smart enough to put this deal together.” He turned in the saddle to look at the other outlaws. “Do we, boys?”
The question brought more laughter from the men. Dodge said, “Far as we’re concerned, Waco, Mr. Grey earns every penny he takes.”
“Fine,” The Kid said, his voice curt. “I was just thinkin’ out loud, that’s all.”
“Best to do as you’re told and not think too much,” Brattle said.
They rode on in silence, gradually curving back to the north, crossing the railroad tracks, riding through a wide basin, and then climbing a ridge commanding a view of fifteen or twenty miles to the east.
The Kid spoke up again. “I didn’t care for the way you kept tossin’ my name around, Brattle.”
“What’s it matter? The law’s already lookin’ for you.”
“Yeah, but once word gets around that I was mixed up in this robbery, the reward being offered for me will go up ... especially since we left three dead men behind us.”
“They shouldn’t have put up a fight. Anyway, you don’t have to worry about that, Keene. All you have to do is stick with us and you won’t get caught.”
No, not until they were
ready
for him to get caught, The Kid thought. And by then it would be too late.
Somehow he had to get a signal to Tyler and let him know it was time for the Rangers to move in. The Kid could testify about the robbery and the killings, as well as Alexander Grey’s part in them.
He didn’t know where that would leave Beatrice, who would be on her own again, but there was nothing he could do about that. Maybe he could use some of Conrad Browning’s money to help her get started in a new life, if her pride would allow that.
The Kid started seeing familiar landmarks, and knew they were getting close to the old ranch. Brattle knew it too, because he reined in. “I’m gonna need that gun back now, Keene.”
“Gun?” The Kid said.
“Don’t be stupid,” Brattle snapped. “You know what I’m talkin’ about. That gun you scooped up after the deputy sheriff dropped it.”
The Kid smiled and reached for the butt of the Colt tucked in his waistband. Brattle moved quickly, gripping the handle of his own revolver, and The Kid sensed the other outlaws behind him were ready for trouble, too.
“Take it easy,” he drawled. Moving slowly and deliberately, he took hold of the weapon and drew it. Then he reversed the gun and held it out butt first toward Brattle.
“You try anything fancy like a road agent spin, and the other fellas will blast you full of holes,” Brattle warned.
“If you haven’t figured out by now that we’re on the same side, Brattle, I don’t know what I can do about it. I carried my weight in that holdup, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, but the boss’s orders say you don’t carry a loaded gun around the place unless he okays it.” Brattle took the Colt from The Kid. “I don’t make the rules.”
The Kid didn’t say anything as they hitched their horses into motion again. For a second, he had considered blasting Brattle off his horse and then turning to shoot it out with the other men. Four against one odds were pretty bad, but he had won against some long odds in the past.
Not today,
he told himself. Too much depended on him staying alive for a while longer.
They followed the ridge for a couple miles before it sloped down into another valley with a creek running through it. The plateau where the ranch was located was on the far side of that valley. The Kid could see the hill serving as Tyler’s lookout point looming to the west. It seemed likely the young Ranger was watching them.
As they started across the valley, The Kid reached into the canvas sack hanging from his saddlehorn by a short length of cord and pulled out a bundle of money.
“What are you doin’?” Brattle asked as The Kid riffled his thumb along the edge of the greenbacks.
“Just thought I’d take another look at this loot, since pretty soon I’ll be turning it over to the boss and won’t ever see it again.”
“I told you, stick with us and you’ll have more money than you know what to do with. Now put that away. You’re makin’ me nervous.”
“Why should it bother you? You think we’ll run into somebody who’ll see it and figure out we stole it from that train?”
“Maybe it sounds far-fetched, but it could happen. Now put that money back in the sack, damn it.”
“All right, don’t get a burr under your saddle.” The Kid replaced the money.
“I’ll get whatever I want under my saddle!” Brattle exclaimed, annoyed.
The Kid grinned. “I’m not sure that even makes sense.”
“It makes sense enough to me,” Brattle snapped. “Come on. We’re almost back to the ranch.”
He heeled his horse into a trot, and the others matched his pace. The slope leading up to the plateau was a fairly easy one, so the horses didn’t struggle.
Twenty minutes later, the six men rode up to the old stone ranch house. As they reined in, the front door swung open and Grey stepped out, an eager expression making his pale face look a bit less cadaverous than usual. His eyes lit up at the sight of the canvas money bags hanging from the saddles. “Success!” he exclaimed.
“That’s right, boss,” Brattle said as he swung down from his horse. “Everything went off without a hitch, except we got mighty wet when a thunderstorm blew through.”
The Kid’s mouth tightened. Without a hitch, Brattle had said. That was true enough for the members of the gang, The Kid supposed, but not for the three dead men they had left behind.
“Dodge, Hendry, you take care of the horses,” Brattle went on. “The rest of you, let’s take this money inside.”
Grey came up to The Kid. “Any problems for you, Waco?”
The Kid shook his head. “Not really.” He paused. “Brattle was a little free about using my name.”
“Is that so?” Grey frowned, as if he hadn’t given Brattle the order to do just that. “Well, I don’t suppose it’ll make much difference in the long run, will it? You’re already a fugitive from justice, after all.”
“That’s what I told him, boss,” Brattle put in.
The Kid had expected Beatrice to come out and greet them, too, but he hadn’t seen any sign of her. He told himself there was no reason to worry about her, but even so he realized he would be glad when he saw for himself that she was all right.
The two men Brattle had picked out led the horses around to the barn while everyone else went into the house. They entered the cavernous front room, and Grey motioned to a large table. “Dump the money there,” he ordered. “I’ll count it and find out just how well we did today.”
Grey used that
we
as if he had been right there with them, The Kid thought, shooting it out with the hombres inside the express car. He might as well have been. Without his evil brain behind all of it, those men would still be alive.
The Kid saw the greed on the man’s face as he looked at the greenbacks spilling from those canvas sacks, and was glad Brattle had taken the loaded gun away from him. At that moment, he was mighty tempted to put a .45 caliber bullet right between Alexander Grey’s reptilian eyes.
Beatrice came into the room then, and a surge of relief went through The Kid. He thought she looked happy to see him, too, but she glanced away quickly so Grey wouldn’t notice her reaction.
“Look at that, Beatrice,” Grey said as he waved a hand at the pile of bills on the table. “Another installment on a fortune that will dwarf anything our father ever had, eh?”
“I don’t care about that, Alexander,” she said. “I don’t care about anything that has to do with him.”
“I can’t say that I blame you for feeling that way. He’s a despicable man.” Grey smiled. “But enough about that. Would you like to help me count this?”
Before Beatrice could answer, a flurry of gunshots suddenly erupted somewhere outside. Everyone stiffened in alarm. The Kid thought the shots came from the barn.
Brattle jerked his gun from its holster and yelled, “Somebody must’ve jumped Dodge and Hendry!” He took off at a run for the back door. So did the other outlaws.
Grey told Beatrice, “Stay here!” and started to follow.
The Kid hesitated. It was a chance to grab Beatrice and get out of there. If he could get his hands on a couple horses ...
“Come on, Waco!” Grey threw the order over his shoulder, putting an end to that idea.
It would have been a long shot anyway, The Kid told himself.
He ran out of the house behind Grey. The shooting had already stopped as they emerged from the big stone pile. They were in time to see Brattle and another man half dragging, half carrying a limp, bloody figure out of the barn.
The Kid’s breath froze in his throat as he recognized the wounded man. Brattle and the other man dumped the intruder at Grey’s feet. “Look who Dodge and Hendry caught skulkin’ around the place, boss.”
It was the young Texas Ranger called Tyler.
Quite possibly Tyler Beaumont.
Kid Morgan’s brother-in-law.
Chapter 28
Blood stained Tyler’s shirt in a couple places, but his eyelids fluttered and his chest rose and fell. The Kid was glad to see the man wasn’t dead.
But that situation might not last long. At any second, Grey could order his men to finish filling the young Texas Ranger with lead.
“What’s that young rapscallion doing here?” Grey demanded.
“Don’t know for sure, boss, but he wasn’t up to anything good.” Brattle held out his hand. “I found this in a hidden pocket on the back of his gunbelt.”
Brattle was holding Tyler’s Ranger badge.
Grey snatched it out of his segundo’s fingers. “A Ranger! Then when he showed up here before, he wasn’t just looking for work, like he claimed.”
“I reckon not,” Brattle agreed. “You want us to go ahead and kill him?”
Grey looked like he was going to issue the order, in which case The Kid knew he would have to make a grab for a gun and try to shoot it out with the gang. He had already had to swallow too much. He wasn’t going to stand there and do nothing while they murdered Tyler.
Before Grey could say anything, Beatrice exclaimed from behind him, “Alexander! You can’t—”
“I told you”—Grey swung to face her, his voice sharp—“when you showed up on the plantation, Beatrice, that I was very pleased to see you and that you were welcome to stay, but you weren’t to interfere in my business. Do you remember that?”
Her chin came up defiantly as anger sparked in her eyes. “Of course I do. At the time, I didn’t know what your business was.”
“Well, now you know,” he snapped. His narrow shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. “But that doesn’t change the fact there’s a good reason to keep this man alive ... for now. Brattle, tend to his wounds and see to it he’s well guarded at all times.”
“But, boss—”
“I want to question him and find out exactly what brought him here,” Grey cut in. “I want to know if he’s aware of who we really are and what we’re doing, or if he was just snooping because someone new moved in on this ranch.”
“We can’t let him go,” Brattle argued. “Not after shootin’ him.”
Grey smiled coldly. “I didn’t say anything about letting him go. We’ll deal with that problem. But I intend to find out as much as I can from him first.” He jerked his head toward the barn, indicating Tyler was to be held prisoner out there.
“This is an unpleasant development in what had been a very promising day,” Grey went on to nobody in particular as Brattle and the other outlaw picked up Tyler’s senseless form and toted it toward the barn. “But I suppose I’ll feel better about things again once I’ve counted that money. Let’s get back to that.” He turned toward the house and asked over his shoulder, “Are you coming, Waco?”
The Kid watched the other outlaws disappear into the barn with Tyler and wondered if he would ever see the young Ranger alive again.
“Waco?”
“Yeah, sure, boss.” The Kid forced himself to sound nonchalant. He figured it was all right to let some of his nerves show. “I just don’t like the idea of a Ranger snoopin’ around here.”
“Neither do I, but it may not mean anything.”
“What’ll we do if we find out they’re on to us?”
“We’ll have to clear out, I suppose, and find somewhere else to serve as our headquarters. That would be a shame, because I like this place. Let’s not borrow trouble.” Grey smiled. “I’ll find out the truth later on, assuming, of course, the lawman doesn’t succumb right away from his wounds. I can make him talk.”
The chuckle that came from Grey made chills go down The Kid’s spine.
“Yes, that Ranger will tell me everything I want to know before he dies.”
The haul from the train robbery wasn’t an exact sixty thousand dollars.
When Grey counted the money in the canvas sacks, the total came to $59,380. That was still a large sum of money, more than most folks saw in their entire lives. Not much compared to the sums Conrad Browning used to deal with all the time, of course, The Kid reflected, but a fortune for most people.
“We’ll work out the division of the spoils later,” Grey told Beatrice, who was sitting in one of the room’s armchairs with a frown on her lovely face, “There’ll be a share for you as well, my dear.”
“I don’t want any of it, Alexander.”
“Nonsense. You contribute to our efforts by cooking and taking care of us. You deserve some money of your own in return for that.”
She shook her head. “I really don’t want to argue about it.”
“All right. But you can’t stop me from setting some aside for you.” Grey looked over at The Kid. “And of course I’ll take what would have been your share into account against the expenses I incurred in securing your freedom from prison.”
“That’s fine,” The Kid said with a nod. “But with a job of this size, my share ought to cover a big chunk of those expenses.”
“I’ll let you know how the figures work out,” Grey said noncommittally.
The Kid knew good and well that would never happen.
Brattle came into the room. “We patched up that Ranger, boss. He’s awake now if you want to talk to him. A couple shots of whiskey braced him up some.”
“Excellent, Brattle.” Grey said. He left the room with his big, ugly second-in-command.
The Kid started after them, but Beatrice stood up quickly and moved to intercept him. “Waco, I don’t care about the money,” she said in a low voice. “I just want to get out of here.”
The Kid didn’t doubt her sincerity. He wished he could give her what she wanted, but with the gang holding Tyler prisoner, he couldn’t cut and run yet.
“I’ll do what I can.” It was a promise as vague as the one Grey had just made to him about the money. He knew that, but there was nothing else he could do.
Trying to ignore Beatrice’s plaintive look, he went after Grey and Brattle, catching up to them before they reached the barn.
Tyler was sitting on the ground with his bloody shirt off and bandages wrapped around his midsection and upper left arm. His arms were pulled behind him and tied around one of the posts supporting a stall gate.
His haggard face showed the strain he was under, but not even a flicker of recognition filled his eyes as he looked up and saw The Kid, Grey, and Brattle coming into the barn. Tyler was thinking clearly enough not to give away The Kid’s identity.
The other outlaws stood around the Ranger in a half circle. The ominous threat they represented hung in the air like the stink of gunsmoke.
“Well, Mr. Tyler,” Grey greeted him with false joviality. “I see you decided to pay us a return visit.”
“There was no need for your hands to start blazin’ away at me like that,” Tyler said sullenly. “I just thought maybe things had changed since I was here—”
“Don’t waste your time and mine by lying about looking for a job,” Grey said. “We both know that’s a lie. You already have a job.” He took the Texas Ranger badge from his pocket and held it up so Tyler could see it.
Grim lines settled over Tyler’s face at the sight of the silver star in a silver circle. “You found that, did you?”
“My men did, yes. So you see there’s no point in lying. What I want to know is what brought you here the first time and then today.”
Tyler didn’t even glance at The Kid. He kept his attention focused on Grey. “I came here startin’ out because this ranch has been abandoned for quite a while and when I spotted somebody livin’ here, I was curious. That’s all. Most folks get pretty close-mouthed when they’re talkin’ to a lawman, even when they haven’t done anything wrong, so that’s why I spun that yarn about lookin’ for a ridin’ job.”
“What made you come back?”
“Well, hell, that gunnie of yours shot me!” Tyler jerked a nod in The Kid’s direction.
“Only to keep you from shooting one of my men,” Grey pointed out.
Tyler started to shrug his shoulder, but stopped with a wince as the movement caused his wounds to hurt. He couldn’t really shrug anyway, because of how his hands were tied.
“That wasn’t the only thing. I just had a hunch somethin’ wrong was goin’ on here. The whole place just didn’t feel right. I still don’t know what it is, but I’m mighty certain now that you fellas are up to no good.”
With a slight frown on his face, Grey appeared to think about what Tyler had told him. After a moment he said, “I believe you’re telling the truth.”
“Hell, with the fix I’m in, I’d be pretty dumb to make it worse by lyin’ to you, wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know. That’s hard to say.” Grey drew a pistol from his pocket and pulled back the hammer as he pointed it at Tyler. “Perhaps you should try again to convince me before I pull this trigger. So tell me, Mr. Tyler, what exactly do you know about us?”
Tyler’s eyes widened. No matter what sort of control he had over his emotions, he knew he was staring death in the face. He wouldn’t have been human if it didn’t affect him.
The Kid knew it, too, and tensed as he watched Grey’s finger on the trigger. If it started to tighten, he planned to leap forward and knock the gun toward the barn’s ceiling before Grey could fire.
Even if he succeeded, that would probably postpone Tyler’s death, and his own, by no more than a few minutes, but he didn’t think he had a choice.
Tyler swallowed and licked his lips. “Damn it, I’m tellin’ you the truth! Yeah, sure, I’m a Ranger, and I was suspicious of you fellas, evidently for good reason. But I don’t know who you are or what you’re doin’ here.”
He was trying to convince his captors of that so Grey wouldn’t order the gang to make a run for it, The Kid thought. Tyler was trying to trade his own life for more time. If he didn’t report in on a certain schedule, maybe Rangers would come looking for him.
And he was trying to protect The Kid’s secret, too. The Kid wasn’t sure his own life was worth that sacrifice.
The moment stretched out until he thought his nerves were going to snap. Then Grey tilted the pistol’s barrel up, lowered the hammer, and slipped the gun back into his pocket. “Now I’m convinced you’re telling the truth.”
“It’s about time,” Tyler muttered.
“Unfortunately, that won’t save your life.”
Grey nodded curtly to Brattle, who grinned and reached for the gun on his hip.
“No, I think I’d prefer not to have any more gunshots right now,” Grey went on. “It would be best to dispose of him in a more discreet manner.”
“Whatever you say, boss,” Brattle replied, shrugging. “Hendry, hand me that knife you carry. Mr. Grey, you might want to move back. Blood tends to squirt out sometimes when you cut a man’s throat.”
“Yes, of course,” Grey murmured. “I wouldn’t want to ruin this suit.”
 
Tyler fought to keep his face expressionless, but The Kid could see the horror in the young lawman’s eyes as Brattle and Grey calmly discussed cutting his throat.
The Kid was horrified, too, but didn’t have time to give in to the feeling. He thought furiously to come up with a way to save Tyler’s life. “Wait a minute,” he said as Hendry handed a heavy-bladed Bowie knife to Brattle. “Wouldn’t it be better to keep him alive for a while?”
“Why would we want to do that?” Grey asked with what sounded like genuine curiosity.
“I agree he’s probably telling the truth,” The Kid said. “But if he’s not ... if any more Rangers come around here ... it might come in handy to have a hostage.”
“Do you really think the Rangers would bargain for his life?”
“I don’t know, but they might.”
Grey considered the suggestion, taking so long about it Brattle finally said, “Well, boss, do you want me to cut his throat or not?”
“For now, no,” Grey decided. “We’ll hang on to him, as Waco suggested. He’s proven to be pretty cunning so far.”
The Kid tried not to let the relief he felt show on his face. “That’s the smart thing to do, Mr. Grey. I don’t think you’ll be sorry.”
“You had better hope that I’m not,” Grey said, “because I can promise you, Waco, if I’m sorry, you will be, too.”
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