Chapter 2

A couple of days later, I was in a saloon nursing a beer when I heard a ruckus coming from up the street. All number of gunshots was going off and scaring the horses something fierce. A couple of the men in the saloon ran to the door and looked out. I'm always glad to let somebody else do that, because you never know when a stray bullet might come flying your way.

One of 'em shouted, "It's a bank robbery! It looks like half a dozen galoots shooting up the place. Hey! The marshal is down. I can see him lying in the street. Shit! Here they come!"

That was when there was a pounding of the ground as a passel of running horses came busting by. "It's them bank robbers! Look out!" The next thing you know, that there jasper lets out a squeal like a stuck pig and collapses on the floor. Blood is flowing everywhere, and there is a big hole in his neck. Yep, he picked up that stray bullet I was worried about.

I didn't hang around to find out how dead he was, but headed on down toward the bank to see if there was a reward for catching them bank robbers. I had just about gotten to the bank when some feller wearing a business suit comes running out all hot and bothered. I grabs him by the arm as he runs by and asks, "Is there a reward for catching them robbers?"

"Reward? Of course there is a reward. I'm the bank owner, and I pay $200 per head, dead or alive for them robbers and $600 for the stolen gold."

"I tell you what, you give me a signed piece of paper saying that and I'll catch them bank robbers for you and get your money back, too."

"Of course, of course, come with me."

That's how, less than half an hour after the bank robbery, I was riding out of Hinkleyville chasing six bank robbers. I didn't go pounding after them robbers all hell for leather. No, Sir, I headed out leading a pack horse with supplies and a second horse for riding. A number of jaspers what heard about the reward went riding out as fast as a horse could take 'em, but I didn't expect them to stay on the trail for a whole day, much less the week what I was figuring on.

I would of been concerned if I expected any real competition for the rewards, but I just hoped they didn't mess up the trail too much. I was still following the main road and it was getting late. It must be close to 7:00 o'clock and it would be getting dark soon, so I was a wee bit concerned about missing it if them robbers turned off before I expected them to. Well, I'll just stop for camp the next likely place I come to.

It was less than half a mile later on that I found what I was watching for. There was a secondary road what cut off from this here main road and headed off into the hills. I dismounted and looked real careful-like at the tracks what I could see. I saw tracks of four horses carrying a normal load and tracks of two horses what was overloaded. The bank owner had said that the loot was in two leather bags, so that must be what was overloading the horses.

Now, six men and six horses can only mean a few things. Maybe they got a hideout where they stashed one or more pack horses, and they're headed there to pick them up. Or, maybe they'er local people what expect to go home before dark. A course, it could mean that they're so damned stupid that they didn't plan on needing supplies, but I wouldn't bet on that. Of the three choices, I would bet on the first, and that's the one I planned on.

I went a little farther on and came to a small stream. This looked like a real likely place, so I settled here for the night. Just in case, I made it a cold camp without no fire. I didn't want the crooks to spot my campfire if they was close enough, so I just got by on pemmican and water. Of course, my horses had their usual fare. I got to sleep early and was up before dawn.

Now was when I needed plenty of daylight for tracking, so I took my time in packing up for the day's ride. I made do with more pemmican and water, but I sure was missing that cup of hot coffee what I usually had with breakfast. I could go for a couple of weeks on pemmican and water, but that don't mean I liked it that way.

It turned out to be a good thing, my cold camp last night, because I found another cold camp not far from mine. Apparently, them robbers was smart enough that I should be plenty careful, because they had the sense to make a cold camp, too. Anyhow, I kept on following them bandits until they came to a cabin in the woods. Well, I was right about one thing, there was a bunch more horses in the rope corral.

The cabin had one door and two windows, so I had sort of a choice which one I sneaked a peek through. I picked the window on the shady side of the cabin and looked in after I removed my hat. Yep, there was six of them robbers in there. Five was sitting around a table drinking coffee and the other one was cooking at the stove.

Well, I had found them, but it was kinda like I had a bear by the tail. There wasn't no way I could win a stand up fight with six of them shooters. My only hope was to start blasting at them and hope that I was lucky. On the other hand, the chance at $1800 was a powerful incentive to go for it.

I went to my horse to fetch my Winchester and to charge the empty chambers in my pistols. I dropped some extra cartridges in my pocket and made my way back to that window. With 29 shots from my rifle and two pistols, I figured that I was in about as good a shape as I could ever be.

I decided to start shooting with my pistols, because I could fire that double action faster than I could work the lever of my rifle. I had practiced enough with shooting with my left hand that I could easily use two guns at the same time, so that's what I planned to do. I leaned my rifle against the wall of the cabin and drew both my pistols.

I didn't waste time breaking the window glass before I started shooting. I let the first ball break the glass as I shot. All of them galoots was eating, so it took a moment for them to react to me. Also, the noise reverberating around that cabin had to be a factor. Anyway, the first two men I shot at was killed off the mark, but my next two shots only wounded the two I was shooting at. By this time, the last two had ducked under the table and was not easy shots.

I figured that I was still ahead of the game. About now was when I could of used a partner, but that was just an idle thought. The two wounded men was not gonna be a big problem, because they both was shot in the chest. I expect that they was lung wounds, and that meant that I really didn't need to worry about them two. My only real problems was the two unwounded galoots sprawled on the floor behind the two dead men.

By this time, them two was pumping bullets in my direction. They was shooting pretty wildly, so I was starting to feel pretty cocky about my situation. I couldn't tell how many guns they was carrying, but as wild as they was shooting, they was gonna have to swap pistols pretty damned soon. to tell the truth, my right hand pistol was empty, and I only had one shot left in the left hand one. I fired that one off and holstered my pistols.

I grabbed up my Winchester and thumbed back the hammer. One thing about it, a bullet from the rifle hits harder than a ball from a revolver. I proved that with my first shot. I missed my shot a little bit and the bullet drove through some of the wood of the table and still hit the original target hard enough to bring out a scream of pain. That was music to my ears! I didn't know how bad the galoot was wounded, but a wound is a wound, so I concentrated on the other galoot.

My first shot at him didn't accomplish a hell of a lot from what I could see, but I did make him keep his head down. The first galoot I shot with my rifle had not shot at me since then, so the wound must have been a good one, from my point of view. The other galoot was back shooting at me, so he must of switched pistols. Nobody could reload that fast, even if he was using paper cartridges.

That was OK, because I still had 11 cartridges left in my Winchester, counting the one in the chamber. Now, though, I was being a bit more careful with my shots. With only one man to shoot at, I was able to keep my attention focused, and I figured to not need any more bullets. Nevertheless, I did pull some cartridges from my pocket and feed 'em into the magazine as I got the chance. That way, I managed to refill the magazine faster than I was emptying it.