Bannerman the Enforcer 42 by Kirk Hamilton

Author:Kirk Hamilton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: action hero, lawlessness, piccadilly publishing, gunfighters of the old west, kirk hamilton, lawmen of the old west, yancy bannerman, australian westerns
Publisher: Piccadilly

The town seemed to be wide-open.

That was the impression that both Enforcers got when they walked down the hill and turned into Main, heading for the plaza and law office. Cowpokes were riding recklessly around, up on boardwalks, into and out of stores, sending citizens running for cover, spilling their goods. They were drunk and gun hung and it was obvious that they had the town buffaloed.

Two whisky-reeking cowpokes drove their mounts towards Yancey and Cato, expecting to see them scatter. Instead, the Enforcers dropped their saddles and war bags, snatching rifles from the scabbards as they did so. They both swung the Winchesters by the barrels and slammed the butts across the midriffs of the startled cowpokes. They were smashed from their saddles and crashed to the dust as their mounts raced on by. Both men were winded and dazed and Yancey kicked the nearest in the ribs. Cato stomped on the groping gun hand of the other, then they picked up their saddles again and started down towards the plaza, aware that folk were watching from behind drawn drapes.

The plaza now was wild and dirty. There was garbage in the gutters and in the middle of the plaza itself. Empty bottles, food scraps, a dead dog’s carcass, and what could have been a dead man, though maybe it was only a drunk sleeping it off, half in the gutter, half on the walk.

“Don’t look good, Yance,” Cato said.

“If Big John was still around the town would never be in this state.”

It was such a contrast to the last time they had been here. But they had to find out what had happened to Early and Cato was about to stop a passerby and ask, when Yancey nudged him and nodded across the plaza towards the law office.

A man had come out of the door and was leaning against the awning post, cleaning his nails with the point of a clasp-knife blade. Sunlight glinted from the brass star pinned to his vest.

“Beau Hunnicutt,” Cato breathed. “Lookin’ worse and worse, Yance.”

The big Enforcer said nothing but lengthened his stride and in a few moments they were both standing at the foot of the porch steps. Hunnicutt gave no sign that he had seen them.

“How come that star’s hanging on your vest, Hunnicutt?” Yancey asked without preamble.

The sheriff looked up languidly from cleaning his nails, flicked his bleak gaze from Yancey to Cato and then looked down at his nails again, examining them.

“’Cause I’m the new sheriff,” he said flatly.

“Who elected you?” demanded Cato.

Hunnicutt smiled crookedly. “Brad Venters and the local ranchers.”

“And the townsfolk?”

Hunnicutt shrugged. “They had their chance to vote an’ didn’t.”

“Rigged in other words,” Yancey opined. “Where’s John Early?”

“Early?” Hunnicutt feigned a thoughtful look. “Aw, yeah, Early. Used to be lawman here. Not now.”

Yancey stepped up onto the porch and Hunnicutt straightened immediately, looking apprehensive. He looked into Yancey’s hard face and ran a tongue across his lips.

“Come inside,” the sheriff said quickly. “Early’s in here.”

Yancey and Cato dumped their saddles against the office wall and followed the man into the office.

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