Chapter 4

That last bullet plowed into my left forearm and took out a chunk of meat. Now that was painful enough to get my attention even ifen I had not been riled up from the first shot. I was really pissed off as I grabbed my rifle, my spare ammunition, and my canteen. I jumped offen Jack's back and sent him out of the line of fire.

The first thing I did was tear off a piece of my already ruined sleeve and wrap it around my wound. I had to stop and put all my stuff down to do that, but between my right hand and my teeth, I managed to git the bandage tight enough to stop most of the bleedin'. The section of meat taken from my arm wasn't gonna interfere with my shootin', but that didn't keep it from hurtin' like hell.

I picked up my stuff and started creepin' toward where the powder smoke had come from. I was countin' on the shooter havin' dismounted afore he took his shots at me, since, if he hadn't, I was gonna have a tough time catchin' up to him. Now that he knows I'm chasin' him, he wouldn't have no trouble outrunnin' me, since his horse is bound to be faster than my mule, and my mule is carryin' a lot more weight than his horse.

I kept as low as I could an made my way through the brush and trees toward where I thought he might be. Aha! There he is beside that tree. He must know he winged me, but he might think that I was hurt worse than I am. That could explain why he's still standing where he first shot at me, instead of moving to a new place like any smart ambusher would do. At least, he ain't as good a shot as I had him figured to be—he must of just been real lucky with that shot he used to kill my boss, Mr. Williams.

The canteen was hanging around my neck by its shoulder strap, and the saddlebag was slung over my shoulder, soz I had reasonably free hands to handle my rifle. I debated about taking a shot at the galoot from this distance, but ifen I did, I might kill him. I really wanted him alive enough to answer a few questions afore he died, soz I better wait a little bit afore I shoot.

With that in mind, I sneaked up a bit closer. In fact, I got within shotgun range. Now I had a real conundrum: should I switch to my shotgun? It was almost sure that I wouldn't miss with my shotgun, but there was a bigger chance of killing him. I decided to stick with my rifle for now, but I would switch in a moment ifen I had to. Well, the question was taken out of my hands at that moment.

I heard a stick break as ifen somebody stepped on it, and I looked in that direction. There was a galoot over there pointin' his sixshooter at me and lookin' like he was about to fire. I didn't wait around fer no conversation, but dove behind a tree just as he fired. He missed, but he did come damned close!

I didn't mess around, this time. I pulled out my shotgun and fired both barrels at the bastard. Quick as I could, I reloaded and cocked both hammers in case I needed more firepower. I used my shotgun because I figured that I couldn't miss with it, and the one bullet from the rifle was a little bit too chancy. Well, I was right. I hit the galoot with several balls, I don't know how many, but it was enough to take him out of the fight.

I turned my attention back to the guy with the buffalo gun just in time to see him lay it down and pull out his pistol. Well, I was one up on him, since my shotgun was already cocked. I gave him a blast from the left barrel, and that was enough to make him fall down. I watched close, but he didn't move, soz I figured it would be safe fer me to see how bad he was hurt.

Son of a bitch! One of the balls had caught him square in the right eye and blown out the back of his head. I wasn't gonna git any information from him, at least not directly. Maybe, the people back at the Flyin' W could tell me sumpthin' about him. I found the two horses and loaded the bodies on them. Jack responded to my whistle, so I was ready to ride in only a couple of minutes.

I got back to the ranch with my two prizes just about dark. Nobody knew nothin' about the bastard with the buffalo gun, but the other man was identified as the foreman of the Rockin' K ranch. This development didn't make a whole lot of sense. I had picked up an empty cartridge shell offen the ground where that galoot had shot at me with his buffalo gun. Close comparison with the empty shell I had picked up when I brought the boss' body in showed them to have been fired by the same gun. The ejector left a funny mark that was identical on both shells.

Everybody was sure that the killer didn't have no connections to the nesters, so that let them offen the hook, but why was he meetin' up with the foreman of the Rockin' K. Anyway, this news gave a whole new look to the "range war" idea. Anyway, I would return the foreman's body to the Rockin' K tomorrow and see ifen they had any ideas to offer.

The first thing that Miz. Emily did when she saw me was to look after the wound in my arm. She cleaned it out with carbolic acid, it didn't hurt, but it sure turned the skin a funny color. Once that was done, she sewed up the gash with the nicest stitches I ever saw. She finished off by puttin' on a fresh bandage.

That night at supper, Miz. Emily went on and on about how smart and brave I had been. I loved to hear that sort of talk, but it did git kind of embarrassing when it seemed like she was never gonna stop. At least, it sounded like she figured that I was earnin' my money.

After supper, she invited me to sit on the veranda with her. I figured that she would also ask the foreman to join us to act as a kind of duenna, but she didn't. That seemed almost kinda improper to me, but maybe they did things different in Wyoming. Anyway, I was glad to sit with her, especially when she had me join her in the swing. Damned ifen she didn't scoot over next to me and push her hip into mine. Man, that was awfully forward, even fer a saloon whore, and I knew she wasn't one of them.

I have to admit that she made me sweat, sittin' the way we was. Hell, I didn't know what to do with my hands, so I just let 'em lie in my lap. Come to think of it, that was probably good, since it help hide my hard on. We had been sittin' and talkin' fer about an hour, then she reached down and took my hand in hers. That's when she really made me sweat. She was a right pretty woman, and all that talkin' and holdin' hands was almost too much fer me! At least, I don't think I made a fool of myself, but I ain't real sure. That went on fer another hour afore she took pity on me and went to bed.

The next mornin', Miz. Emily acted like nothin' at all had happened the evenin' afore, so I didn't say nothin' either. Anyway, I sure was tense durin' breakfast.

I threw that dead foreman's body across his saddle and took it and the horse to the Rockin' K ranch. The horse carried their brand, so I figured that I ought to return it. I didn't worry about the other bastard; I don't even know what they did with his body.

I pulled into the yard at the Rockin' K ranch house and dismounted to knock on the door. It didn't take long for a older woman to come to the door. She said that she was the housekeeper, and I asked her to see ifen I could talk to the boss. She had me wait in the living room while she went to fetch the boss. A few minutes later, a man was rolled into the room in a wheelchair. We introduced ourselves, and I told him why I was there.