Shooting For Justice, G. Tilman [best historical fiction books of all time .txt] 📗

“What a pair of inept horse thieves,” he said. “I doubt they are involved in any scheme against you or the government. I’d just as soon not have to be a police witness. Want to just scare some more hell out of them and let them go?” Kane asked.

“I’m thinking the same thing. You want to give them the send-off?”

Kane nodded and they walked back. Kane got in their faces and stared malevolently at both.

“I take it personal when somebody tries to steal my horse. When they try to steal two of my horses, I want to shoot them. Or, maybe cut them.” He drew the Bowie Pope had suspected he carried.

Kane waved it very close to their noses. Pope could tell he knew how to handle a blade. The first clue was the lack of severed noses hitting the ground.

“I had a long day yesterday and you also interrupted my sleep and my hosts’ sleep. If the two of you will take off running, I will ask the lovely lady with the shotgun to not cut you both in half. I have memorized your faces. If I ever see either of you again, you are dead. Dead. Get it?”

They nodded and Kane yelled, “Git!” Their combined sprint down the alley was admirable.

The four watched them go out of sight.

They went in, relocked the door and resumed the remaining several hours of sleep left before daylight.

As the two were disappearing, a shot rang out. The bullet flew between Pope and Kane, closer to the former. Kane instantly fired at the flash. There was a scream, the clatter of metal on cobblestone, and footsteps.

The two tall men sprinted off in pursuit. Sarah urged Rita and now also May, back inside. She had May turn the gas lamp down to its lowest without going out.

Pope spotted a revolver in the moonlight. There were specks of blood near it. He picked up the revolver and handed it to Kane.

“A Smith & Wesson Scofield,” Kane said.

They continued to track the spots of blood for several blocks, but then they abated and there was nothing to follow on the hard surface.

“I am surprised the shots did not bring Washington’s finest running our way,” Kane said.

“Me, too. Very surprised,” Pope replied as they padded their way, barefooted, back to Pope’s house. “Damn good shot in the dark, Michael!”

“Unfortunately, not good enough. A hit might have solved your mystery. I am convinced the horse thievery was aimed at getting us outside for the shooter. The two idiots were prompted but probably not party to the plan to shoot you, John.”

“It almost has to be the case. I must be getting real close.”

“If you aren’t, at least someone fears you are.”

Kane and Rita were awakened at daylight by the aroma of coffee brewing and bacon frying wafting up to their room from the kitchen. May already had four place settings at the kitchen table, where they usually had breakfast.

Kane found Pope sitting in the small back garden by the stables. Unknown to Kane, Pope had already fed the two Andalusians. Now, he was drinking a cup of May’s rich coffee.

May got a cup of coffee for Kane and told him Pope was already outside. The day promised to be another Washington high humidity scorcher.

“Good morning, John,” Kane said as he walked out and sat beside his host.

“Hi, Michael. Did you all sleep alright after last night’s interesting interlude?”

“It took me a few minutes. I think I am getting rusty.”

“Well, you didn’t seem rusty last night. Your Colt must be specially made and tuned.”

“It is, John. I had a matched pair for years. Recently, I met a young Mexican officer leading a patrol of Rurales. It was like looking in a mirror twenty years ago. I knew he had to be the son I never knew about. He was. He knew instantly also. We bonded. I gave him my left-hand Colt. I’ve since replaced it, but the new one’s action still has to break in.”

“Where did you study fencing, Michael?” Pope asked.

“In Spain and some in Germany. My father sent me to Europe to learn the martial arts. How did you know about the fencing?”

“I saw you with the Bowie last night. Old Jim Bowie himself could not move with the precision you showed. It was clear you received training. And a lot of it.”

“I notice you carry a Bowie hidden from the eyes of ninety-nine percent of the world. Have you used it?”

“I have. I learned from my grandfather who would give up his Colt Army before his Bowie knife. You’d like him. Mid-sixties and fit and tough.”

“I’m sure I would. I heard of him even as far east as Dallas,” Kane said.

“Michael, thank you for your inquiries on our probable threat.”

“I’m afraid I only helped you to eliminate some potential threats, but not put you closer to the real one. Or ones.”

“In investigations, one lists all the potential suspects and then studiously eliminates them. Usually, the one you end up with is the one you are going to arrest.”

“Think it will be so in this case?” Kane asked.

Pope grinned at him.

“No, I think the bad guy will come out of the shadows and not be on our educated guess list. I just hope I can stop him before the president is harmed.”

“I don’t know you except by reputation and our brief, pleasant stay with you and Sarah. However, I have a feeling you will shut down the operation before Arthur is harmed. I just hope you will have the backup and legal wherewithal to do it the way it needs to be done.”

“Me, too. Michael. For Sarah’s sake as much as mine.”

“She looked pretty much at home with the shotgun last night.”

“Sarah has used a shotgun with deadly force for Wells Fargo several times. A revolver also. It you look at the probable actual kills Billy the Kid made, she is ahead of him.”

Kane smiled at this as if he