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Authors: Clay More

Tags: #action, #ranch, #classic western, #western fictioneers, #traditional western

Stampede at Rattlesnake Pass (11 page)

BOOK: Stampede at Rattlesnake Pass
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One of the men had started singing the most
offensive ribald songs and she began to fear that at any moment the
door would be unbolted and one or both of them would enter to have
their way with her.

But at last she felt she had made enough
room to try wriggling through. Her first attempt, however, made her
realize that she had underestimated and she had to work on the hole
again. Her hands by then were filthy, blistered and bleeding, but
she could not afford to stop. On her second attempt she managed to
wriggle under the slats, twisting herself around as she did so, so
that she blinked repeatedly as the overhead sun seared her
eyes.

As she was struggling to get her waist under
the slats she heard a metallic ratcheting noise followed by a
click, as the hammer of a handgun was pulled back.

"Can I give you a hand, lady?" guffawed Cole
Lancing. Then as Elly gasped and craned her neck back to see him,
he called out:

"You can cut the caterwauling now, Hog. Your
little joke worked a treat," He grinned at her, his teeth yellowed
with tobacco. "I reckon that little bit of exercise will have tired
you out, lady. Nicely tired!"

* * *

All Jake could feel was pain in the neck as
his head was pulled back. Then he heard a sickening noise as the
knife cut through flesh and bone and his face was splattered with
blood.

Then slowly the hand over his face eased and
he opened his eyes to see the diamondback’s bloody head mere inches
from him, its sightless eyes staring straight at him, a hunting
knife skewering its skull to the ground.

"Keep quiet when I take my hand away," a
voice whispered in his ear. "Then I will get you out of there."

Jake nodded, tried to speak, then felt his
head slump forwards in a faint.

How long he was unconscious he did not know.
When he did regain consciousness he had been dug free, hauled out
and laid on top of the ground several feet away from the grisly
body of the rattlesnake. He noted that the hunting knife had been
removed.

"Drink this," came the voice again. "Then we
must be swift. The sheriff and his men will come soon."

Jake drank lukewarm water from the canteen
and then rubbed his weary eyes as he tried to focus on his savior.
Finally, in disbelief he gasped:

"Nantan!"

"It is I. I am sorry that I had to put you
through this trial with the snake, but it was the only way I could
think of keeping you alive."

"And I thought that you drugged our brandy.
I thought – "

"That I was one of them?" the young man
shook his head. "I did not know that the brandy I brought you was
poisoned."

Jake’s features clouded. "And what about
Rosalind? Is it true? Is she dead?"

"I am afraid so. She was a good girl and did
not deserve to die. I have vowed that her death will be avenged. I
knew that you had nothing to do with her death." His face suddenly
registered deep emotion. "And that is two vows I have made. The
first is to kill the dog who raped my sister."

And fleetingly Nantan told Jake of the day a
man came to their camp, beat Nantan up and left him for dead. But
when he regained consciousness he found his sister’s body defiled
and brutally bludgeoned to death.

"He was of my people," he went on. "An
animal that must be put down." He bent his head and parted his long
hair at the back to show an ugly scar where he had been
pistol-whipped. "I tracked him to Silver City several moons ago,
but he had disappeared. I have an idea that he will return, which
is why I have stayed and done whatever work people will pay me
for."

"Including at the Busted Flush Saloon?"

"Yes and whenever people need a guide for
hunting. Or when the sheriff needs a tracker."

"Do you know anything about Miss
Horrocks?"

"I heard that you were tracking her and the
men who kidnapped her. I have seen their tracks. Three horses and a
cowpony. The trail leads here and then goes to the west."

"That was what I thought," said Jake. "I had
better get after them."

Nantan nodded and pointed to a patch of
scrub-oak where he had tethered Jake’s stallion and his palomino.
"The sheriff and his men are almost on the point of madness with
their fire-water. I will take your stallion and lead them away,
while you wait here until they have gone."

Jake stood up, maintaining his balance with
some difficulty. "Where will you lead them, Nantan?"

The ghost of a smile played across his lips.
"I already took your hat. It will add to the impression that I am
you. I can circle around and around in these mountains for days if
need be. Then I will take them to Tucksville." He handed Jake his
gun and holster, then mounted the stallion. "Wait until I have
drawn them away, Scudder, then get after those men. Do not let them
do anything to that lady."

And riding off at a gallop in the direction
of the posse’s temporary camp he let off a couple of shots. Then he
headed off towards Rattlesnake Pass. There were shouts of
consternation, much swearing, followed soon after by the noise of
horses charging after Nantan, and the discharging of weapons.

"You are a good kid, Nantan," Jake said,
mounting the palomino and picking up the tracks again. "Let’s hope
that we can both avenge that little Rosalind!"

* * *

Elly had found herself unceremoniously
dragged out of her escape hole and pushed roughly back into the
cabin.

"We got ourselves a regular gopher," sneered
Cole Lancing. "What you think we should do with her, Hog?"

"Tie her up and let her kick her heels, I
reckon. A few hours without food and water should sort her
out."

And so Elly found herself back in the
darkened room she thought that she had escaped from just a short
while before. This time, however, she was tied hand and foot and
then tied down to the crude bunk. A thousand curses had formed in
her mind as Cole Lancing tied her, but she bit her tongue and was
quiet. She realized that reprisals, or worse, could come swiftly
from men such as these. So once she was alone she just lay
listening to their foul-mouthed banter and raucous singing as she
tried to think of a way of freeing herself. Every few minutes she
heaved at her bonds in an attempt to gradually loosen them. But it
seemed in vain.

What time it was she had no way of knowing,
except that the solitary entrance of light from the hole she had
made was beginning to darken.

Then suddenly, she almost cried out in alarm
when she saw a long shape emerge from the hole.

A snake! she imagined.

And then as she focused on it properly she
realized that it was a human arm.

"Scudder?" she whispered.

"It’s me, Elly," his voice whispered back.
"You okay?"

Elly gave a deep sigh. "I have been better.
But I can’t move, Jake. I am all tied up."

"How many of them are there? Two or
three?"

"Two. The third one is called Rubal Cage. He
went on somewhere early this morning."

"Stay where you are!" he said

Elly bit back the retort that had formed on
her tongue, saying instead, "Be careful, Jake."

In the main cabin Hog Fleming and Cole
Lancing were playing cards at a plain deal table, the remains of a
meal before them and the dregs of a whiskey bottle in the middle of
the table.

"I reckon you are going to have to pay me
all of your share from the herd when you see my hand," said
Lancing, his lazy eye looking positively alert for a moment.

Hog Fleming snorted. "Or maybe it will be
you that pays me, you piece of misery." He tapped the table. "I
want to see what’s in your hand."

So engrossed with their card game were they
that neither of them had heard the door being silently pushed
open.

"Maybe you had better take a look at what’s
in my hand!" Jake Scudder snapped.

The two rustlers spun around, amazement
written across their faces. Then they both made moves towards their
guns.

"I wouldn’t if I were you," said Jake,
ratcheting back the hammer of his Remington. "Now slowly lift those
guns and toss them over here."

Gingerly, the two men lifted their
weapons.

Jake’s eyes narrowed as they fell on the
bloodstained bandage about Hog Fleming’s ear. "You're the dog who
shoots unarmed men, aren’t you?" He gave a humorless smile. "It was
me that notched your ear."

Cole Lancing tossed his gun over, then
looked nervously at his partner. "Let him have your gun, Hog," he
urged.

But Hog Fleming’s expression had changed
from one of surprise to one of ire. "You did this to me? You
bastard. Another dog shot a piece out of my ear before you – and I
killed him."

Jake nodded his head with mock sympathy. "It
must hurt."

"Damn you! Go to - !" Fleming began, deftly
swinging his gun into shooting position.

He was still raising it when a bullet
smashed into his forehead, throwing him backwards to fall a
lifeless heap against the wall, a rapidly expanding pool of blood
from the back of his head seeping into the dirt floor.

e wa

"A lot of trouble might have been saved if I
had shot him there in the first place, instead of three inches
wide," Jake said coldly. "Still, it will save the hangman a
job."

Cole Lancing was shaking. "Hangman? Easy
now, mister. There is no harm done. We can come to some
arrangement, can’t we?"

"Sure we can," replied Jake. "But first
thing I want you to get into that room and untie Miss
Horrocks."

Lancing nodded firmly and got to his feet.
As he did so he noticed that Scudder was swaying slightly on his
feet, and that his face looked badly sunburned. He opened the door
and led the way inside.

"The ropes are tight," he said. "I’ll need
to cut her free."

"Are you OK, Elly," Jake asked. "They
haven’t harmed you?"

"Not yet. Only my pride."

Jake nodded for the rustler to begin freeing
her. He watched as the rustler opened a clasp knife and cut the
bonds about her feet and the ones which lashed her to the bunk.

Lancing was reaching for the ones at her
wrists when he noted the look of concern on Elly’s face.

"Jake, are you - ?"

In the corner of his eye Cole Lancing had
seen Jake sway again. He took his chance and hit out backwards with
his elbow, catching Jake in the stomach. The gun in Jake’s hand
went off, drilling a hole in the wall. Instantly, Lancing, who had
faced many a knife fight in his time, wheeled around, his hand
rising and falling to slash across Jake’s forearm. Jake cried out
in pain, the gun falling from his hand.

"Not so tough now, are you, big man!"
growled Lancing, dexterously reversing the knife and preparing to
lunge at Jake’s chest.

But Elly had sprung up. Swinging her bound
hands she caught the rustler behind the knees, causing them to
buckle.

It gave Jake the opportunity he needed to
recover. He drilled a straight left into Lancing’s face, breaking
his nose and propelling him backwards to smash into the wall. He
slowly slid down to lie in an unconscious heap.

"Well done, Elly," said Jake. "I am glad
that –"

Then before he could finish, his knees began
to buckle and he slumped to the ground in a faint.

* * *

When he recovered consciousness he found
himself lying on the bunk. A piece of flannel soaked in water was
pressed to his forehead and Elly was bandaging the knife-slash on
his forearm.

"What about the other one?" he asked,
attempting to rise.

Elly pushed him back. "You need to rest a
while. I don’t know exactly what you have been through, but it
looks as if you might have seen something of hell. Your face is so
sunburned."

She gestured to the other side of the room,
where Cole Lancing was lying, his hands and feet bound and a gag in
his mouth. "I thought I had better get him tied up before he
regained consciousness," she explained. "Now tell me what happened,
Jake."

And while she brewed coffee, having covered
Hog Fleming’s body with a blanket, she listened to Jake’s account
of all that had happened since she left to go with Sheriff Parfitt
to see the C & SW Cattle Company agent in Silver City.

Elly covered her mouth in horror. "They
killed that poor girl?"

Jake nodded. "Someone did. And for that
there will be a reckoning!"

"But we still don’t know who stole the
herd," Elly said, pouring coffee into two tin mugs. "Except that
Rubal Cage and Hog Fleming were involved. Cage used to work for the
Double J ranch and Fleming was fired by my father."

Jake scowled. "And that jasper won’t talk."
He clicked his tongue as he cast the bound rustler a scathing look.
"Still, I reckon he may talk once the prospect of hanging hits
him."

"Are we taking him with us, Jake?"

"I think we should, except –"

"Except we haven't got time on our side. We
would have to travel slower. Couldn’t we just leave him here? Make
sure he has water."

Jake thought for a moment then nodded.
"You're right, Elly. We can’t go to Silver City, since the sheriff
and his drunken posse are chasing me, so I guess we had better head
for Tucksville. And I hope that hide-bound marshal will listen for
once."

Elly swilled her coffee in her mug. "Then
the sooner we start the better. It's almost dark and I don’t think
I could stand spending a night here."

CHAPTER TEN

It was almost dark by the time Carmen de
Menendez reached the cabin. She raised her hand to her mouth and
made the pre-arranged signal whistle. But there was no reply. She
cursed under her breath. Unlike Rubal Cage she did not have a high
opinion of either Hog Fletcher or Cole Lancing. She knew that for
dirty work you had to be prepared to use men with no scruples
whatsoever. Almost inevitably, she thought, that meant using men of
limited intelligence. Yet for all that, both men had survived a
reasonable length of time in the southwest, considering their way
of life. It was for that reason she began to feel uneasy.

BOOK: Stampede at Rattlesnake Pass
9.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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