Gun Country by Ralph Cotton

Author:Ralph Cotton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group

Chapter 14

In Colinas Secas, the old livery hostler met the lawmen and the two women riding double as they rode off the badlands toward the barn. “Welcome to Dry Hills, Marshal . . . ,” he said, seeing the two badges glint in the sunlight. “Deputy . . . ,” he added, touching the brim of his sun-faded derby hat toward Caldwell. “I’m Caywood Radler, at your service.”

“Obliged, Mr. Radler,” said Dawson, touching his hat brim in return. “I’m Marshal Dawson. This is Deputy Caldwell. Have you any horses for sale?” He gestured a hand toward Jane, who sat atop her horse with Raidy pressed against her back. Raidy slept with one arm around Jane’s waist, the other arm up across the fringed bosom of her doeskin shirt.

Radler gave the two women a curious look.

Jane growled at him, “What the hell are you staring at, old man? We need a horse!”

“What’s wrong with the horse following you?” Radler said, pointing a gnarled finger at the far edge of town where the spooked horse Raidy had been riding walked forward slowly, shyly, its reins dragging the ground.

“I’ll be a son of a bitch,” Jane said, her face reddening. To Dawson and Caldwell she said, “I didn’t know that horse was following us, I swear I didn’t.”

“Neither did we, Jane,” said Dawson, stepping down from his saddle, Caldwell doing the same.

Radler cackled aloud. “Good thing it weren’t some ambusher tracking you.”

“Yeah,” said Dawson, “a good thing it wasn’t.” He and Caldwell looked at Jane as she woke Raidy and helped her down from behind her. Caldwell stepped over and helped the waking woman.

“Say, you lawmen should have been here the other night,” said Radler. “We had more fireworks than a Chinese funeral. One drifter beat the living hell out of three men with a long-handled shovel, caused one of them to kill the other two. I never seen nothing like it.”

Dawson and Caldwell looked at each other. “A man with his head bandaged?” Dawson asked.

“Yep, he’s a daisy, that one,” said Radler. “Turns out the barkeeper recognized him as Fast Larry Shaw. Said he’d seen him before over in Somos Santos.” He beamed at having such knowledge. “Anyhow, Fast Larry Shaw told me you two would be coming along directly. Said to tell you he’s gone off with the Lowe Gang.” He grinned. “What’s left of them anyway. After the drifter was through with that shovel, I expect Dangerous Dexter found himself short of guns.”

“That’s good to know, Mr. Radler,” said Dawson. “Again we’re obliged to you.”

“Hey, you two can just call me Caywood,” said the proud old hostler. “I hope whatever it is you are searching for Fast Larry for ain’t too bad. I mean, you ain’t out to hang him or nothing like that, are you?”

“No,” said Dawson, “it’s nothing like that.”

He and Caldwell both handed Radler the reins to their horses. When the old man had taken them, he stepped over to Jane and took hers. “Did Fast Larry

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