Slocum and the Boss's Wife by Jake Logan

Author:Jake Logan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group

11

The Big O riders cut loose with an incredible volley of shots from both rifles and pistols, and Cox shrieked, riddled with bullet holes. He fell from his horse with a thud, his body spurting blood from several different holes. Pool looked down in horror. “My God,” he said.

“Come on,” said Wickson. “Leave him.”

“Should we separate?” said Smythe.

“With you carrying all that loot? Hell no,” said Wickson.

“Come on, damn it. Let’s get out of here.”

They headed in the opposite direction from the border, riding north for their lives, thinking that a big posse was in pursuit of them. Bullets were flying around them. As they rode, they turned in their saddles and fired wild shots at their pursuers.

“We’re dead men,” Smythe shouted.

“We ain’t got a chance,” said Pool.

“Shut up and ride,” shouted Wickson.

They topped a rise with a grove of trees off to their left. No one gave a thought to riding into the trees. With such a large bunch after them, they would be trapped like rats. Their only chance was to outrun the chasers. They lashed their mounts. But suddenly they saw coming at them from the front a force nearly equal in size to the one behind them. They reined in their horses in a panic.

“Holy shit,” said Pool.

“What the hell’s that?” said Smythe.

“Make for the trees,” said Wickson, and the three riders made a hard left turn and headed into the grove of trees. Conley would have followed them, but just as he was about to make that decision, he saw the other large bunch coming straight for him.

“Take cover, boys,” he yelled. “They’ve got pardners.” The Big O riders dismounted and took whatever cover they could find—a lump in the earth, some tall grass; a few made their horses lie down on their sides and got behind them for cover. When Sheriff Hardy, leading the real posse after the bank robbers, saw the gang in front of him taking cover, he shouted similar orders, assuming that the robbers had an army of accomplices. The shooting started, and it sounded like a small war.

In the grove of trees nearby, Wickson, Smythe and Pool sat on their horses peering out in amazement. “What the hell’s going on out there?” asked Smythe.

“I ain’t got no idea,” said Wickson, “but whatever the hell it is, it just saved our ass. Let’s ride out of here the back way. Say, how does Montana sound to you fellas?”

They picked their way through the woods and started riding north, leaving the war to rage behind them.

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