Pale Horse, Robert L. Ross [beach read book .TXT] 📗

/> “There's Shane, and 4 others,” replied the man, terrified at what fate may have awaited him had he not answered correctly.
“What are the names of the men riding with Walters”?
“Well”, replied the outlaw, “There's “Scarfaced” Martin, “Sawed-Off” Russell, Chris Forgason, and Donovan Lee.”
“Describe them to me, and don't leave out any details!” demanded Pale Horse. The outlaw described each of the men to the best of his ability, their faces, scars, clothing they wore most often, their horses, everything he could think of, hoping it would please the bounty hunter, so he wouldn't end up like his partner on the floor. Being bounty hunters, it was essential to pay attention to detail and remember faces, and it came natural to the both of them. Colt, sensing they had all the information needed, and that they were getting closer to finding the girls, turned to his friend and asked him if there was anything else he wanted to ask either of them. Upon answering “No”, he and his partner, repeatedly brushed back the soulless hammers of their Colt .45s and sent the remaining outlaws on their way to meet their maker. They dragged the bandits out of the shack by their feet and threw them over their horses that were tied up to the railing just outside. Both of them, satisfied with the results they had acquired, headed back to town to check for news about the women before setting out on the journey to Oklahoma City.
“If they're there, Ben will let us know, if not, I think we should stay in town until noon to see if there's any word from him before we ride to Oklahoma.”
“Those are my very thoughts”, replied Colt as he handed over his silver flask of Irish elixir to his friend without once breaking pace.
Meanwhile, life on the Double R Ranch hadn't been the same since the kidnapping. Ben paced the floors constantly, carrying his six-gun in hand, more out of nervousness and apprehension than for any other reason. The liquor consumed daily fueled his temper and doubt and made his demeanor something quite different than the kindness and mild manner he was commonly known for. Marla and the other servants stayed clear of him, and though they were worried as well, went about their duties in the normal manner. Ben waited impatiently for his daughter and Winter Crow to come home, and regularly stood on the balcony, scanning the horizon for any sign of their arrival. It had been four days since the ransom was sent, and if the women were allowed to leave immediately upon Shane Walters receiving it, they should be arriving today, or no later than the next morning. Ben was very anxious, though doubt left him afraid and wary for the safety of his daughter and Winter Crow, who was just as much a daughter to him. What motivation would the outlaw have to free his daughters ? What would stop him from killing both women out of sheer meanness and revenge for the death of his brother, although it was at the hands of Colt Mathews, rather than his own ? Had he, or any of the ruthless renegades that rode with him done anything to harm them ? All these questions had constantly been on his mind since the day he received the ransom note, and had kept him awake for days, until his body and mind had simply given out, and sleep had taken over, only to have the same questions and nightmarish visions permeate his few moments of restless slumber.
The evening sun had faded and disappeared from the horizon as the two men hastily approached the outskirts of town and made their way straight to the telegraph office. Dismounting from their horses, Pale Horse stepped briskly into the office, where the clerk was receiving the very telegram that he was there to inquire of. The clerk, a pear-shaped sort of fellow, seeing he was dressed in buckskins and fringe, asked him if he was Pale Horse, and gave the telegram to him upon his acknowledgment. After reading the it, he handed it to Colt and told the clerk to take a message for Ben Turner.
“Headed to Oklahoma City, The women are there with Walters, Will wire you upon arrival”. The clerk sent the message, he promptly paid him for the service, and the two bounty hunters walked their horses towards the Sheriffs office to collect their bounty. The deputy was there, and promptly paid them for a job well done. Still disappointed at the contents of the telegram, the two strolled into the summer night, headed directly for the saloon, to drink, wallow in their anger, and ready themselves for the trip to Oklahoma City. The two men entered the saloon, and walked up to the bar. The bartender, recognizing them from the incident of the night before, was quick to respond to their wants. “Yes Sir, what will it be this evening,” Colt, noticing it was the same man who had insulted Pale Horse previously, looked at the barkeep and jokingly said, “Give this “injun” and I a bottle of Irish Jacks and a couple of beers.” Pale Horse looked over at his friend and smiled, knowing he was antagonizing the man to get some sort of a reaction. The barkeep, humble, and ignoring the prodding, graciously acknowledged the request and quickly set about his duty. Just as their bottle was being set in front of them, Colt overheard the two men just to his right, bragging about their recent escapades with the two women they had recently shared between them. As the men kept bragging and laughing, Colt poured Pale Horse and himself a couple of drinks, and then, out of sheer curiosity, continued to eavesdrop on their conversation. Pale Horse turned and said, “Lets find a table”. “You go ahead,” he replied, “I'll be there in a minute”. “Alright” he said, as he headed for a table in the back of the place.
“That little blonde thing was damn feisty, wasn't she”?, said one cowboy to the other. “Yeah, she was, but that little squaw was like fighting a grizzly bear, I thought she was gonna whip me for sure when I grabbed her by her hair and threw her on the bed”! Colt's hunch was right, he'd heard enough. He walked to the table where Pale Horse was sitting. “The two men there at the bar” he said as he pointed in their direction. “Pale Horse rose his eyes from the bottom of the glass and looked up at him, “Yeah, What about them”? “We need to escort them out of town immediately and have words and such with them”. Pale Horse, knowing by his demeanor it was serious, slammed the rest of his drink, and standing, unstrapped his six-gun on his hip, loosened the one in his belt and said, “Lets take them just outside of town towards the bluffs, and deal with them there.” Colt shook his head as he downed a couple of more shots, then picked up the bottle and the two of them swiftly walked up behind the two men at the bar. Colt pulled out his pistol and stuck it in the back of the head of the cowboy on the right, and Pale Horse simultaneously did the same to the one on the left.
“Keep your hands on the bar and don't move a muscle, or you'll both be dead where you stand, mister”, said Colt, as his prisoner started to make a move for his gun. Both of the outlaws laid both of their hands flat on the bar as the one on the right asked, “What's this all about, friend”? Colt stuck his pistol a little deeper into the mans neck and replied, “I'm Colt Mathews and this fella here is Pale Horse Rankin, and it seems that the two of you will be coming with us.” Realizing their situation was beyond any immediate retribution, they obliged, walking out of the bar and to their horses.
“Whats this all about”?, the man asked Pale Horse as he stepped up into his saddle.“All in good time, friend, Now the both of you head that way”, he said, as he pointed to the Westerly road out of town. “In case you're thinking about trying to run, I should let you know that you wont get far yards before I'll put a bullet in the back of your head”, he said, as he “clicked” at Spirit and the four rode toward the outskirts of town. While riding behind the two bandits, Pale Horse glanced over at Colt inquired of his trusted friend, “I'm assuming you overheard these two say something that warrants this? .” Colt, not sure how to break the news to him that these two men had not only assaulted Temperance and Winter Crow, but had possibly raped them as well, just looked back at his friend and replied, “Yeah”. Both of the men rode in front of the bounty hunters clueless to the fate that was surely theirs, figuring they were being arrested for one or more of the things they had recently done, or had done in their past. Little did they know, that a jail cell or a rope would've been a welcomed sight and relief compared to the fate that awaited them in the desolate plains from which they would never return.
“Where are the girls that the two of you were bragging about back at the saloon”?, asked Colt. The one in front of him answered with sarcasm, “We don't know where they are, and even if we did, we wouldn't tell you.” Colt announced with menace to the man that seemed to answer for the both of them, “I'm going to ask you again, and you should keep in mind that the answer you give could very well save your life, Now, where are they”? The bandit was silent, choosing to ignore the bounty hunter's warning. “You don't seem to realize the situation we have here, pardner, that blonde I'm referring to is my girl, and the other is this mans sister, I'm not gonna ask you again.” While staring at the back of the outlaw awaiting some sort of answer, the doomed man looked back at Colt and spit on the ground, implying it was meant for him. Pale Horse quickly drew his piece and shot the man in his right shoulder.
“They're in Oklahoma City with our boss, I'm telling' ya' mister, that's all I know.” Seeing the answer given had already been established, and there wasn't really anymore information they could get from them, Colt, nor Pale Horse said another thing to either of them for the rest of their journey.
“Twenty or so minutes out of town, Pale Horse spotted a thicket of weather beaten mesquite trees he figured to use as fuel for the fire that would soon be lighting up the night sky, and told Colt that they should stop just ahead among them. He agreed, and with his iron trained on the wounded prisoner said, “We'll be stopping there in that brush just ahead, I want the both of you to dismount and lay flat out on the ground when we get there”. After a few minutes of pleading and useless bargaining with the bounty hunters, they came upon the thicket, and the captives doing as they were instructed, slid down off their horses and laid down, face first on the ground.”“I'll start a fire while you tie them up”, said Pale Horse as he began collecting the dead limbs and brush that had gathered around the dried up thicket.
With the campfire being attended to, and a serious tone of silence between Colt and his riding companion, he tied the hands and feet of both men and stood