The Floating Outfit 64 by J.T. Edson

Author:J.T. Edson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: pulp fiction, western ebook, piccadilly publishing, jt edson, floating outfit western
Publisher: Piccadilly

Chapter Ten – Who-All Was Behind You?

“WH—WHA—WHAT’S happened out there?” Cuthbert Castle howled, and instead of waiting for an answer, he flung himself toward the barred window of the cell to stand on the bunk and look out.

“Get down off there!” Dusty Fog snapped. He jerked open the door and, making sure the skinny former guard of the bank had time to see Robin C. Harman lying sprawled facedown with Thorny Bush standing holding his smoking shotgun, hauled him away from the window. “Goddamn it, that’s civic-owned ’n’-paid-for property you’re standing on.”

“He—he k-k-k—!” Castle croaked as he was shoved toward the front of the cell with a force he would not have expected from so small a man.

“What happened, Dusty?” Calamity Jane asked. She had discarded the blanket before coming from the sheriff s office, holding her Navy Colt and moving with an alacrity that was clearly giving her bruised body some pain.

“Thorny just shot something,” the small Texan replied in a harsh voice, looking in what Castle interpreted as defiance from the redhead to Angus McTavish and back.

“Those things happen, even on Flora McDonald’s birthday,” the Scot commented dryly. He had drawn the same conclusion Calamity had, and he wanted to help create the desired impression on the obviously terrified remaining prisoner. “Does your man need any help back there, Captain Fog?”

“He’ll yell if he does,” Dusty said. “Go back to the office and don’t let anybody else in for a spell. There could be some more gunplay soon.”

“You want for Steffie ’n’ me to stay, D—Cap’n Fog?” the redhead inquired, her tone showing that an answer in the negative would be appreciated.

“You’re damned right I do,” the small Texan growled. He felt that his female deputy deserved to be taught a lesson in responsibility, and was sure Rusty Willis would have the same idea with respect to the ash-blonde. “I don’t reckon I’ll be long, then I’ve a few things I want to say to you pair.”

Turning around without another word, Calamity followed McTavish’s lead in carrying out the instructions. They had just returned to the office when the front door was thrown open and the stocky Wedge cowhand came in, followed by Wendel Debutson and a few other townspeople.

“What’s up, Calam?” Rusty inquired without as much as a glance at his wife, who was standing by the weapon rack, her blanket discarded, and taking down a shotgun. He continued coldly, “Leave it be and cover yourself up, Steffie!”

“Thorny went out to the backhouse and took him a shot at a chicken hawk,” the redhead replied, saying the first thing that came to her mind.

“Does Dusty want me?” the Wedge cowhand asked as Steffie began carrying out the order with a speed that suggested a guilty conscience.

“You’d best go see,” the redhead advised.

“Excuse me, ladies,” Debutson said after Rusty had gone into the cell section and closed the door, McTavish stepping to lean against it. Rusty had hoped the shot might produce a different story, but he concluded that this would not be the case.

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