Larry and Stretch 11 by Marshall Grover

Author:Marshall Grover
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: winchester rifle, colt 45, piccadilly publishing, gunslingsers, outlaws and lawmen, leonard meares, marshall grover, larry and stretch
Publisher: Piccadilly Publishing

Seven – Reinforcements

For Finnsburg, this was to be an exciting day. All along Main Street, locals were discussing the Starbuck Frontier Show, and a long queue had formed outside the makeshift booth erected by Ben Whicker for the sale of tickets.

With Main Street so busy, it was easy for the stranger to make an unobtrusive entrance. Nobody spared him a second glance, as he idled his pony to a hitch rack and dismounted, slapping trail-dust from his clothes with a sweat-stained Stetson. He was a medium-built man in the early forties, rigged as a cowpoke. With the exception of the venal and unscrupulous Ingham brothers, he was probably the most dangerous man ever to visit Finnsburg. But nobody would have guessed it. In the matter of maintaining a nondescript exterior and preserving his anonymity, Arch Waldermann was an expert.

Business was slow at the Security and Trust. The cashier employed by the Inghams, a colorless, middle-aged citizen named Bowley, showed no further interest in the stranger, after Webb Ingham invited him into his private office. His greeting to Waldermann was a frown of disapproval.

“You’re early,” he chided.

Waldermann flopped into the chair opposite Ingham’s desk, helped himself to a cigar.

“Not so very early, huh, Webb?” he suggested. “Anyway, the boys are getting impatient.”

“You didn’t bring your whole outfit to Finnsburg, did you?” challenged Ingham. “Damnitall, two of them are on record at every law office west of the Platte.”

“Keep your shirt on, Webb,” grinned Waldermann. “We found a safe place to camp. A box canyon ‘way north of town. I came in alone.”

“Dex and I,” frowned Ingham, “have to wait six more days—maybe longer—before going ahead with the plan. I told you at the start, Arch. The profits will be higher after the local cattlemen deposit their sale-money.”

“Those rich ranchers,” mused Waldermann, “aren’t back from Hill City yet?”

“It takes time,” said Ingham, “for five big spreads to unload their pay-herds. Three of those ranchers are clients of this bank. Better to wait until after they’ve deposited the cash—wouldn’t you say?”

“Sure enough,” agreed Waldermann. “And don’t worry about my outfit. We can be plenty patient.”

“All right,” said Webb Ingham. “In the meantime, we might as well go over the plan again, to be sure you and your men know exactly what you must do.”

Quietly and dispassionately, the banker and his visitor conferred on a subject dear to their hearts. Larceny—on the grand scale.

On the Friday night following the cattle sales, when the Security & Trust safe would be filled to capacity, the brothers would be working late. Waldermann, accompanied by his four unsavory sidekicks, would gain entry through the bank’s rear door. A goodly percentage of the bank’s funds would be surrendered to Waldermann in return for his co-operation, the residue having already been secreted by the brothers. The outlaws would then beat a retreat from Finnsburg, but quietly, without commotion, and with a twenty-to-one chance of reaching the California border well ahead of any pursuit posse. This latter advantage would be guaranteed by the Inghams.

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