Chapter 41

I followed behind my prisoner and I was pretty sure it was the same one who'd shot at me earlier. I knew for a fact it was the same one I'd seen hanging around in the saloon later, after the first incident. Ben was surprised when I opened the door and escorted the young assasin wanna-be inside, but he was quick to pat him down, remove a foot long Bowie knife from him and then put him in a cell.

"Where'd you get him?" Ben asked, when he was back in the office.

"I think it's the one who took a shot at me the other day. At any rate I'm positive he's the one who just took a shot at me in the street. I found the smoke like you told me to and fired six shots into the false front on the building it was over. I wounded him and then ran around to the back and knocked the shit out of his head while he was trying to climb down.

"I doubt you knocked all the shit out of his head; he still looks shit-headed stupid to me. Hey that looks like a nice Sharps rifle he had," Ben siad.

"It does, doesn't it. At least it's in a lot better shape than he is."

"Well it wouldn't be worth shit if it wasn't. You winged him good and proper and I can tell the bullet hit the bone. Don't matter though 'cause he can hang just fine with one arm.

"Hey, we ought to get the judge to call off the hanging for today and see if we can't get 'em all strung up on the same day. It'll draw a lot bigger crowd and do the town some financial good," Ben said.

"I never thought of that. Why don't you go see if you can talk the judge into it," I said, and he took off."

"Hey, mister sheriff, can't you get someone to see about my arm," I heard the new prisoner shout from the back.

I walked over to the door heading back there and opened it.

"Well, I'll just get right on it. First you try to shoot me and now you want me to feel sorry about your arm? Ben's done gone over to tell the judge about you and if he comes by later maybe he'll cut it off for you and burn the end with a hot iron so you don't bleed to death."

"Cut it off? It didn't even break the bone. What'll I do if he cuts my arm off?"

"You'll die of hemp poisoning just like these other two. What else was you expecting?"

"Why, I was just trying to shoot you like you shot my friends. Why do I gotta hang for that. You didn't hang for killing them," he said.

"No, I didn't hang, but you're leaving out one part. I wasn't trying to steal any horses and your friends were. I didn't shoot them out of hand. I just protected myself when they resisted arrest," I said.

"But I didn't resist arrest," he said.

"I know, and I"m gonna tell the judge about it. Then you'll get a fair trial before we hang you," I told him, and then shut the door and walked back out front.

Hanging around the jail was a little boring, but it didn't last long. Ben was back in less than an hour and the judge had agreed to move the hanging back in case we got a guilty verdict on this last perpatrator, as if there was any doubt.

I turned the office back over to Ben and headed to the bank again. I went back to Olivia's office for a little slap and tickle and to get my badge. I left her on her own getting her titties put away again, but the dress did button up the front. My next stop was at the saloon.

There was a poker game going on, but I didn't even try to get in it. I sat on my ass and choked down a shot of whiskey just like in the cowboy movies. I noticed right away it wasn't Jack Daniels, but it was the best they had.

Suddenly John Johnston came into the saloon and he came right over to where I was sitting. He didn't even sit down.

"Sheriff, there's something funny going on at the bank. Five men just rode up to it and only four went in -- one stayed out to hold the horses instead of them tying 'em to the hitching rail," he told me, in an excited voice.

All at once a jackass who'd been eavsedropping stood up and yelled," They're robbing the bank!"

I stood up and clubed him even more senseless with my pistol.

"All right, everybody settle down right now. I'll go tend to the bank, and I'm going to shoot anyone else who leaves this saloon, except for John Johnston. Sam, take a shotgun to the back door and shoot anyone who tries to leave that way. If you don't I'll be coming back to shoot you later. John, you go out the front and go saddle my horse, and then wait in case I need it.

"I mean what I say. If any of you try to help I'm going to shoot you dead before you get clear of the saloon doors," I said, and then took off for the store.

Once inside it I ran for my Browning 30-06 and told Jerrilyn to have all the girls get their shotguns and stand by the door.

"Concentrate on the saloon and pepper the hell out of the door if anyone looks like they're coming out. I think the bank is being robbed and I don't need any assholes butting in and causing Olivia or someone else to get shot," I said, and the girls scattered for their shotguns.

I was back outside with the Browning less than twenty seconds later and as the men came out of the bank trying to look calm and collected I noticed one of them had my bag of double-eagles in his hand. There was no doubt he could only have obtained it at gunpoint. I let them mount and start away before I cut down the one with the bag right off the bat and then I started clearing the other saddles.

Two of them turned around and tried to fight me off with pistols, but the distance was already over a hundred yards and I wasn't too worried about them hitting me with a cap and ball pistol at that range. Meanwhile I was out for an afternoon shoot. I was even able to take my time and only wound the culprits.

Only one got clean away, and I ran to the stable and took the reins of my Arabian stallion from John Johnston. I was aboard him in seconds and catching up to the crook before my horse made his third bound. I don't know why I was so intent on catching the other asshole. My money was in the bag on the ground where the first one I'd shot had dropped it. What the hell though.

My horse was a lot faster than the one the outlaw thought he was escaping on - and even though I'd put the Browning in the saddle scabbard I was still wearing three of the Ruger Super Blackhawks and I knew good and well I'd done a lot more practicing with them than he had with whatever he was carrying.

He turned around in the saddle to fire at me occaisonally, but he merely pointed his pistol in my general direction and I didn't even fire back. It would only be a lucky shot if I hit him with the horse running like hell below me. Finally he fired his last shot and he noticed I was nearly right on his ass by now. We must have run the horses a little over two miles and his was done for.

Since he had shot all his loads I knew he would have hell loading his pistol again in a hurry so I gave my fine Arabian my heels and he closed the distance in seconds. I whacked the outlaw across the back of the neck with one of my pistols and he tumbled off onto the ground. My stallion did a perfect sliding stop and I was off with a gun in each fist while the crook was still shaking his head and trying to clear the cobwebs.

I'll admit my adrenalin was up from the chase and I guess what I did next could be classified as police brutality, but I wasn't overly worried about any such charges and I kicked the crook in the head when I got near him. Hell, it felt good and I did it again as he lay there.