Hart the Regulator 10 by John B. Harvey

Author:John B. Harvey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: p, hart the regulator, western frontier fiction, western fiction series, wes hart, john b harvey, western 1880s, western action and adventure ebook, western action and bounty hunters
Publisher: Piccadilly Publishing

Chapter Ten

They’d sent Bailey and the Mexican in ahead. Hart rode with the main group: Cherokee and High-Hat Thomas at the front, then Mescal and the guard who’d first got the drop on Hart and whose name turned out to be T. J. Bodine; next came Hart with yellow-shirt close at back of him - though today his shirt was dark blue and his name was LaRue. All of them were well armed and none of them was going to hesitate before pulling the trigger. They’d got the word that there was going to be close to a couple of thousand dollars in the Fallon bank and they wanted to hit it while the money was still there. Their idea of hitting a bank seemed to involve getting as many men inside as possible and scaring the hell out of everyone in sight. While that was going on, a couple of others would brandish their weapons up and down Main Street and keep other folk clear.

As a plan it lacked subtlety but that wasn’t going to prevent it from working.

It had worked over at Ely, when the bunch had taken the Mining Company bank and shot two of the staff, leaving the manager dead and a clerk crippled. On that occasion they’d ridden clear with eight hundred dollars. This time the stakes were higher and they were going to make all the more certain that no one stood between them and the money.

With the sheriff in Fallon a few days dead and likely nobody in his boots, there wasn’t anyone who was likely to stop them. Unless it was Hart.

‘Hey, now!’ LaRue called from behind him as if somehow he’d read his thoughts. ‘Remember I got this gun drawn and you covered. All the way down to the wire!’

Hart glanced over his shoulder at the thin, balding man who sat in the saddle grinning his lopsided, gap-toothed grin. ‘Yeah,’ he nodded, ‘I’ll keep it in mind.’

LaRue scowled and spat and Hart swung away. In less than half an hour they would be in Fallon.

The bank was right across the street from Zack Moses’ store. It was a pretty imposing looking building, with a balcony jutting out from the upper story so that it covered the boardwalk and slim pillars pushed down from underneath the balcony edge into the dirt of the street. There were glass windows set at either side of the front door, three more windows, curtained, above.

There was just enough wind to shift the sign where it hung over the sidewalk.

Bailey was sitting on a rocker close by the door, enjoying the comforts of the chair that was generally used by the bank’s manager when business was slack. Bailey was able to make use of it this particular morning on account of the bank being about as busy as hell come Sunday. Three or four farmers were in town to negotiate a loan or pay some of their mortgage; the local manager of the stage line was checking

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