Lawless Trail by Ralph Cotton

Author:Ralph Cotton [Cotton, Ralph]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Historical, General
ISBN: 9781611739879
Google: 82G_69eEhjsC
Amazon: 0451240235
Barnesnoble: 0451240235
Goodreads: 17707759
Publisher: Signet
Published: 2013-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

The Ranger and Fatch Hardaway had also heard the gunshots on the trail in front of them. Before dark they had been following the trail dust they’d seen rising when the doctor and the two long riders had put their horses forward at a run. They had stopped at the spot where the Mexican soldiers had taken Ty and the others prisoner. Backtracking bloody footprints around the boulder into the brush, they had found the body of Heco in a swath of chopped brush. His machete lay three feet away, its blade unstained by blood.

They saw that the Mexican soldier’s throat had been sliced clean and deep, the thrust of cold steel expertly delivered. In looking at the gaping bloody wound, Hardaway rubbed his own throat and stepped back as if wary the same fate might befall him.

“Holy Jake and Ethel,” he said. “What do you suppose happened here, Ranger?”

“I have no idea,” the Ranger said, letting out a breath. He noted the side of the soldier’s head had been caved in at the temple. A bloody rock lay beside the body. “I’d say he never felt the blade, though.”

“What?” said Hardaway in mock surprise. “We’ve finally come upon something you can’t expertly opine on?”

The Ranger didn’t answer. Instead he turned and walked back to where their horses stood beside the trail.

“Now it looks like we’ve got federales sticking their beaks in the trough,” Hardaway said. “I don’t like that one bit. The things a man has to go through to draw reward money.” He shook his head. “No wonder bounty hunters are such dirty sons a’ bitches.”

As the Ranger lifted his reins and swung up into this saddle, he said, “At least we’re all headed in the same direction now. That’s worth something to us.” He looked back along the trail. “Even Garand and his men will be coming along sometime tonight, unless they stop short and take the night off.”

“I hope to hell they do,” said Hardaway. “I take no comfort in us all headed the same direction. It’s one thing if I take you to the Traybos’ hideout. I’d hate to think our trail leads Garand and his band of lousy railroad detectives there.”

“I understand,” said the Ranger. He stared at Hardaway, waiting for more.

“This trail runs up past the old ruins,” Hardaway said. “We need to swing off of it and head southwest to get to where the Traybos hole up.” He stepped up into his saddle and pushed his hat brim up. “Sorry to break that bad news to you,” he added. “I figure you’re getting as saddle-weary as I am.”

“I’ll get weary when we’re finished, Hardaway,” Sam said, nudging the barb forward. “We’re staying on these tracks. When they turn, we’ll turn with them.”

Hardaway sighed and nudged his horse forward alongside him.

They’d ridden on as the sun dropped out of sight over the hilltops and their shadows stretched long across the ground and turned black under purple starlight.

Another two hours had passed when they heard the gunshots split the silence on the trail ahead of them.

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