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As he carefully picked up the revolvers and started stuffing them in his belt, the lawman said, ‘I’m not too enthusiastic about giving people chances to kill me. As you just found out, I cheat. Now, are we going to have a conversation here or over at my office? If I have to march you across the street, none of you will be getting out again until I get all the right answers.’
Surprisingly, the Count suddenly seemed co-operative. ‘I suppose you want to know where we were when the coach was robbed.’
‘That’s a good point to start.’
The Count casually took a cigar from a silver case, bit off the end and lit it. ‘Be so kind as to refresh my memory. What date was that?’
‘It was the twenty-second of May.’
Exhaling a cloud of smoke in the lawman’s general direction, the gambler said, ‘I was a hundred miles away riding a string of good luck at Powell’s Junction. Plenty of poorer but wiser citizens of that fair town can vouch for that. The sheriff was watching me very closely and a telegraph message to him should verify what I am saying.’
‘What about you?’ Hewitt demanded of Elmer Bramley.
The rancher looked puzzled and frowned as he tried to recall the day. At last he mumbled, ‘I ain’t sure but me and Justin spend most of our time at the ranch. That’s where we would have been.’
‘Did any of your neighbours see you there?’
‘You can bet they did. Them sneaky sonsofbitches watch us all the time. They reckon we’re rustlers. Mullane and his men would say anything to bring trouble on us.’
‘Who’s Mullane?’
‘Clint Mullane. He bought Green’s TG spread last year. He don’t like us at all.’
‘Good taste is no crime,’ Hewitt reminded him.
Justin said angrily, ‘Don’t believe anything Mullane tells you. He’d lie real quick to get us into trouble.’
‘I suppose you’ll be riding out to the TG now,’ Elmer said, ‘just to hear a few more lies about us.’
‘I suppose you have heard the rumour that Basset might have masterminded the robbery himself,’ the Count said smoothly. ‘The dogs are barking that someone on the inside planned that robbery.’
‘When I can find a dog that talks, I’ll ask him what he knows. Meanwhile I’ll keep an open mind. As long as you gents don’t cause any trouble, you can stay in town.’
‘What about our guns?’ Justin growled.
‘You can collect them as you leave town. Don’t try anything silly like trying to get others.’
The Count took another draw on his cigar and glared coldly at the lawman. ‘I won’t forget this, Hewitt. You have insulted my integrity and some day you will have to face me for that. Honour demands it.’
‘Let me tell you now, Count. I don’t worry about honour. I’m sneaky and I cheat. If you cause a situation where I have to kill you. I will load the dice in my favour any way I can.’
‘I’d expect no less from your type,’ the Count said grandly as the lawman walked away.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The new day was looking good and it improved even more in Hewitt’s mind when he saw Sue waiting on her black pony outside the livery stable. She smiled and gave a cheery greeting as she turned her mount alongside Cactus. ‘Do you wish to ride in any special direction?’ she asked.
‘I wouldn’t mind riding out towards the Bramley ranch if it suits you, Sue.’
‘Sounds fine to me but we would never be able to get anywhere near the ranch in the time we have. It’s about twenty miles away. The scenery’s not bad though, so it’s a good direction to ride.’
Hewitt looked at his companion. ‘The scenery’s not too bad right here.’
Sue laughed. ‘Thank you. You are very flattering this morning. Have you been taking lessons from the Count?’
‘The Count couldn’t teach pigs to be dirty. Don’t spoil the day by even mentioning him.’
They followed the coach road varying the pace according to the ground they were on at the time. The land sloped upwards to a long ridge that dominated the landscape surrounding the town and afforded a panoramic view of the countryside. As the climb was a fairly steep one they halted on the summit to allow the horses a short rest.
It was Sue who first spotted the other riders.
‘Look along the ridge to the left,’ she said as she pointed. ‘Someone else is out for an early morning ride.’
Three horsemen had halted about a quarter of a mile away and were looking down on the town. Then one dismounted and passed his horse’s reins to the nearest mounted man. Sunlight flashed on bright metal and the watchers realized that the man on foot was using a brass telescope.
‘I wonder what they’re up to,’ Hewitt said. Something about the strangers made him uneasy. ‘I could understand men looking for game or even strayed stock but they’re unlikely to be down there in the streets of Appsley.’
The barrel of the telescope flashed again as the man using it changed position. ‘They’ve seen us,’ Hewitt said. ‘He’s looking straight at us.’
For a couple of seconds the man with the telescope watched them. Then he turned and mounted his horse. The three riders wheeled their animals and trotted down a spur of the ridge. Soon they were out of sight.
‘They look like men who prefer not to be seen,’ Hewitt observed. ‘I wonder what they were up to.’
‘I don’t know,’ Sue replied, ‘but I’m glad they were not too close to us. I don’t think that they were just out enjoying the morning air.’
‘I agree. Chances are that they know who we are but I would dearly love to know who those three were. They looked like they were up to no good.’
The ride back to town seemed all too short but both knew they had a busy day ahead and could not afford to stay away from their work any longer. After tentatively agreeing to meet for another ride in two days’ time, the girl and the lawman parted company at the livery stable.
Hewitt fed and groomed Cactus, had his own breakfast and had just opened the office door when he had a visitor. John Grey came through the door, his face flushed with anger. ‘I want a word with you, Hewitt.’
The deputy indicated a chair near his desk. ‘Go ahead.’
The mayor preferred to remain standing. ‘The Count’s still in town. What are you doing about him? The Bramleys are with him too. We don’t want people like that in Appsley.’
‘As long as they stay within the law, I’m prepared to let them be here. If you look you’ll see that they have no guns. I have them here.’
Grey gave an angry snort. ‘That type always carry hideout guns or knives. You’re a fool if you think you have disarmed them. I want them out of town.’
‘That’s too bad because I want them here where I can watch them for a while. If they break the law, I’ll have to act but while they are being good boys, it suits me to have them here.’
‘Well, it doesn’t suit me. Might I remind you that I am paying your wages. I can fire you.’
‘The county sheriff pays my wages and he bills you for my services. He sent me here and he’s the one who will tell me when to leave. You can write to him or maybe send a telegraph message if you’re not happy but until I hear from him I stay where I am. Bit by bit I am picking up pieces of information and I’m starting to get a few answers.’
‘What have you found out?’
‘I’ll tell you when I start arresting people.’
‘You won’t be here long enough to arrest anyone. I’ll make an official complaint. You’re going, Hewitt.’
The deputy leaned back in his chair and fixed Grey with a hard look. ‘I’m not sure,’ he said, ‘whether you are just an interfering busybody, or you really don’t want this robbery and murder to be cleared up.’
Spluttering with rage, Grey turned and stormed out.
Hewitt arose and made his way down to the coach station. He waved to Wilcox as he passed his office window but went down the side of the building to the corrals and sheds, where spare equipment was stored. He wanted
to ask a few questions of the two stable hands, Nick Lester and Ike Baines.
Lister was a tubby little man, with a round, cheerful face. He had lived in Appsley most of his life except for a few years in the East during the Civil War. He had no hesitation in giving his version of the robbery. ‘I thought I was back at Gettysburg. There were guns going off everywhere and the sound was echoing off the buildings. Those bandits sure threw a lot of lead around.’
Baines was much younger and thinner than his co-worker but heartily endorsed what the other had said. ‘That’s right. I ain’t never been in a gunfight before and without a gun it was mighty scary. When George’s shotgun blew up, it sounded like the end of the world. Even if I had a gun, I ain’t sure I would have hung around any longer.’
The mention of the shotgun jogged Hewitt’s memory. ‘Do you know what happened that gun?’
‘Sure we do,’ Lister said. He pointed to a barrel in the corner of the stable. ‘It’s over there with the trash. The butt’s missing. It wasn’t damaged and I gave it to Otto Hinkler down the road. He thinks he can replace a broken stock on his gun with it. The rest of the gun is a total wreck.’
Hewitt walked to the barrel and looked inside. He quickly extracted the mangled remains of twin barrels and a badly damaged firing mechanism. The connecting rib between the two barrels had torn loose from its welds and was twisted out of position. Some of the spiral welds peculiar to Damascus barrels had also opened. Large sections of both barrels were missing, leaving jagged holes in the steel. ‘There must have been bits of this gun flying everywhere,’ he said as he examined the barrels.
‘Probably,’ Lister agreed, ‘but a hell of a lot of it finished up in George’s face. It made a real mess of him.’
As he examined the barrels the deputy noted a tiny fragment of green paper caught on the jagged edge of a blown-out section. It confirmed what he had been beginning to guess, but he dared not say anything. Instead, he concealed his excitement and announced that he was taking the barrels as evidence.
Thanking the pair he left the stables and walked back along the alley. Pausing briefly outside Wilcox’s open window, he looked in. The manager put down his pen when he saw the deputy. ‘Did you learn anything new from the stable hands?’
‘I’m not sure yet. Will you be having a beer after work tonight?’
‘I will if I can get this paper work out of the way. I should be there about five-thirty or so.’
Hewitt had not been long back in his office when he heard horses outside the door and boots on the boardwalk. Then the Count and the Bramleys strolled through the door. They looked sullen and an aura of danger seemed to hang about them. ‘We’re here for our guns,’ the Count announced.
‘Are you leaving town?’
‘We are. We kept our part of the deal. I had a good night at the cards last night so I’m having a couple of days at the Bramley ranch before I move on.’
‘Glad to hear it,’ Hewitt said as he unlocked a desk drawer. He passed over the four weapons he had confiscated the night before.
The Bramleys dropped theirs into their empty holsters. The Count put one gun away but he glanced at the cylinder of the other and could see that it was loaded. The dark eyes narrowed but he did not holster the gun. ‘You’re getting careless, Hewitt,’ he said. ‘If I wasn’t a gentleman, I could kill you right now.’
The deputy seemed unconcerned. ‘Don’t try it, Count. Remember I told you that I cheat.’
The Count gave a wintry smile as he dropped the weapon back in its holster. ‘You probably do but you can’t dodge me for ever. Some day we will meet and see who is the better man.’
‘Gunfights only prove that one man was a better shot than the other, or was luckier. They don’t prove the true worth of a man.’
‘We’ll debate that point again soon,’ the Count threatened. He would have turned away to leave but Hewitt halted him. He reached into a desk drawer and produced eight .45 cartridges. ‘These belong to you and your friends,’ he said as he passed them over. ‘I took them out of the cylinders of your guns. If you had cocked any gun to fire, the hammer would only fall on an empty chamber and the one behind it was empty too. You would have needed to cock your guns and pull the triggers twice before you could fire a shot. I would not have given you time for that.’
For a second the Count looked surprised as he took the cartridges but then he swore softly and added, ‘You’re right, Hewitt. You are a cheating sonofabitch. We’ll meet again. You’ll run out of tricks before I run out of patience.’
CHAPTER NINE
Hewitt rose very early next morning and rode back to the ridge where he had seen the three riders. This time he had a pair of field glasses in a leather case slung from his saddle horn.
Tracks and old cigarette butts showed that the place had been visited regularly and that the visitors had waited around, though for what reason he could only guess. It could only have been an observation post of some kind but what had the strangers been watching? He dismounted and swept the field glasses over the town below.
He could see the back of the bank and Macgregor’s store. A slight change of direction showed the front of the coach station and the alley beside it. He could even see the window of Wilcox’s office. Another slight change of direction showed the rear of the brown-painted building where Grey had his office. Still none the wiser, he returned the glasses to their case and mounted Cactus.
The regular comings and goings had made a beaten path so the deputy turned his mount along it. At first it led down the reverse slope of the hill and it was easy to follow, but then it went into a pine thicket and the carpet of fallen needles partly obscured it. A few minutes of riding about were necessary before Hewitt was satisfied that he was on the trail again. The country became steeper and he found himself going around the side of a hill with a small spring bubbling out of a tangle of vines some distance below him. Another mile and the spring had become a creek. The country was opening out too and changing from rocky ridges to open grasslands. Miles away in the distance he saw two separate columns of smoke rising against the cloudless blue sky. He surmised that it was ranch houses with breakfast cooking and knew that the buildings would not be as close together as they appeared to be in the distance.
It seemed likely that the mysterious riders had come from one of those ranches but time was running out. Reluctantly the deputy turned his mount homewards. He would ask around Appsley and find out a bit more about the ownership of the ranches in question.
Willie Freeman was lucky. He saw Hewitt’s horse’s bright chestnut coat showing through a patch of dark green pine seedlings and quickly reined his horse behind a large boulder. Had he emerged from cover a second earlier, it was possible that Hewitt would have seen him. He recognized the horse because he had seen it close up through a telescope, the previous day. To his relief he saw the deputy change course and start riding back the way he had come. But the presence of a lawman on the rarely-used trail did little for his peace of mind.
The heavily built gunman scratched his short brown beard as if seeking inspiration and eventually decided that it was more important to warn his companions. If there was a message from their man in town, it would have to wait.
As soon as the deputy was a safe distance away, Freeman turned his horse and rode back to the ranch as quickly as the rough ground would allow.
When Hewitt reached town, he followed his usual routine of caring for his horse and then having breakfast. When this was over, the store was open and he strolled across the street to it.
Sue looked up when he entered and flashed him a welcoming smile. ‘You’re out early today, Pete. Is this business or a social call?’
‘I’m afraid it’s business. Did you have any luck in finding who bought those twenty-gauge cartridges?’
‘Unfortunately there’s no record in the ranch accounts so that means it was a cash sale. Ma knows nothing about it so my father must have sold it. How important is it to find out?’
 
; ‘I think it could be very important but at this stage it’s safest for you if I don’t tell you of my suspicions. Don’t mention those cartridges to anyone. I won’t be riding in the morning and it might be an idea if you don’t ride for a while in that last direction we took. I had a look up there this morning. Those three characters have been coming there regularly and I’m not sure what they are up to. I found a little creek up there and saw two ranches away to the south-east. Would you know what ranches they are?’
‘They could be Bramleys’ and the TG ranch but I’m not sure. They are over that way somewhere.’
‘Do you know anyone with a map?’
‘Yes, John Grey has one in his office. As a lawyer he handles all the land deals around here.’
Hewitt smiled ruefully. ‘Grey and I are not on the best of terms. Do you know anyone else?’
‘Mr Basset at the bank might have one. He has a lot of mortgages on the local ranches.’
‘Thanks. I’ll try him first. He might be slightly higher than Grey on the sociability scale at present. I’d better get back to the less enjoyable aspect of my work now.’
The banker was not pleased to see the deputy and pretended to be busier than he was just to keep Hewitt waiting for a while. Eventually he con-descended to see Hewitt. ‘Be brief,’ he snapped. ‘I’m a very busy man.’
The lawman enquired about a map and it seemed to him that Basset was rather happy to tell him that he could not help. But refusing to be dismissed so quickly, Hewitt asked, ‘How often do you get transfers of money coming through here on the coach?’
‘For safety reasons, I’m not sure I should tell you that. Those transfers are the bank’s business.’
‘The bank’s last piece of business got two men killed and one of your employees badly injured, so I reckon things got a bit sloppy from a safety point of view.’
‘That won’t happen again. Bandits won’t try the same trick twice and I have requested that next time there will be two guards with the money.’