‘Yeah,’ Mark took the girl’s hand, ‘Listen, honey. He’s dead now. That means, as his widow, you own a fair piece of range. The S Star and some of the Lazy F.’
‘I want nothing of his,’ Rene answered, taking the ring off and throwing it to the floor.
‘Waal now. You look at it this way. You and Just’s going to need more room. There ain’t going to be all that much room at the KH when both families start growing.’
‘Just!’ Rene came to her feet, her eyes wild. ‘Just, he’s in the next room.’
Mark watched the girl run from the room, then glanced at Dusty who was pulling the watch from Lanton’s vest. ‘Load up, Mark. We’re headed for the KH before it’s too late.’
Henery looked at Dusty for a moment, then said, ‘Cap’n Fog, I forgot. There are a lot of really good guns in town. They’re at the saloon. They must be waiting for Lanton.’
Shoving the watch into his torn Levis Dusty started to load his guns. Henery went upstairs and came back with strips of sheet. He bandaged Dusty’s leg and sent the other man to fetch a new pair of Levis from the store.
Dusty and Mark went and looked into the next room. Rene and Just were locked in each other’s arms, oblivious of everything. Mark closed the door again. ‘Don’t approve of a young widow acting like that,’ he said.
With the new Levis on Dusty started for the door. Henery asked, ‘What do you aim to do?’
‘Go along to the saloon.’
At the KH Brit looked at the others. One thought in every mind. Was what the S Star man saying true?
‘Look!’ Gloria gasped, pointing to the ford. A group of hard riding men came tearing around into sight. ‘More of them.’
Winter saw the new men and thought nothing of it. He’d heard rumors of gunmen gathering in town and wondered if Lanton hired them to help here.
The riders tore in between Winter’s men and the KH and swung their horses to halt, facing the S Star gunmen. It was then Winter recognized the small man on the tired looking horse, and the huge, handsome blond giant who sat next to him. Others of the men were looking along the line and muttering amongst themselves as they recognized this or that man.
‘Lanton’s dead!’
Dusty looked down at Winters as he spoke. The gunman did not make a move. ‘That right?’
‘Sure, here’s his watch.’ Dusty tossed the watch down before the man. ‘You wanting to carry on with this?’
‘Maybe.’
‘I’d better introduce my friends. Then if you still want, you can cut loose your wolves and we’ll see the way they fight.’
Dusty jerked his thumb back over his shoulder, pointing first to the squat, hard looking man at the end of the line, then moving along. It was like a roll call of the honor students of border gunplay.
‘Ben Thompson, Billy Thompson, King Fisher, Bill Longley, Clay Allison, Shad and Mannen Cements, Wes Hardin, Jim Courtwright, Dallas Stoudenmire, Cheyenne Bodie, Bronco Layne.’
Winter looked along the line of hard-eyed men. Some of them he knew, the others were as Dusty named them. They were the cream of the fast men, almost everyone wearing a Gaylin gunbelt. They were a bunch it would be hard to take.
Winter looked to where hard riding vaqueros were fast approaching; led by Don Jose Estradre and a black dressed boy who rode a sorrel but had a huge white stallion running loose by his side.
‘Lanton’s dead!’ the gunman said softly.
‘I killed him in town.’
Turning, Winter waved to the other men. ‘All right. Let’s get out of here. There’s nothing to fight over now.’
The KH crew came from the house, Brit and Gloria running towards Dusty and Mark. Waco, Doc and Red came forward to greet their friends in the line of Dusty’s amigos. Juanita Estradre ran to her father, throwing her arms round his neck as he swung down from his horse.
With his arm around Gloria’s shoulder Brit looked at the others, then called for them to come to the house. The S Star hired killers were riding away. Lanton was dead and peace was on the land.
There would be no more need for guns on the Azul Rio.
About the Author
J. T. Edson was a former British Army dog-handler who wrote more than 130 Western novels, accounting for some 27 million sales in paperback. Edson’s works - produced on a word processor in an Edwardian semi at Melton Mowbray - contain clear, crisp action in the traditions of B-movies and Western television series. What they lack in psychological depth is made up for by at least twelve good fights per volume. Each portrays a vivid, idealized “West That Never Was”, at a pace that rarely slackens.
The Floating Outfit Series by J. T. Edson
The Ysabel Kid
.44 Caliber Man
A Horse Called Mogollon
Goodnight’s Dream
From Hide and Horn
Set Texas Back on Her Feet
The Hide and Tallow Men
The Hooded Riders
Quiet Town
Trail Boss
Wagons to Backsight
Sidewinder
Rangeland Hercules
McGraw’s Inheritance
The Half-Breed
White Indians
Texas Kidnappers
The Wildcats
The Bad Bunch
The Fast Gun
Cuchilo
A Town Called Yellowdog
Trigger Fast
The Trouble Busters
The Making of a Lawman
Decision for Dusty Fog
Cards and Colts
The Code of Dusty Fog
The Gentle Giant
Set-A-Foot
The Making of a Lawman
The Peacemakers
Hell in the Palo Duro
Go Back to Hell
The South Will Rise Again
The Quest for Bowie’s Blade
Beguinage
Beguinage Is Dead
The Rushers
Buffalo Are Coming!
The Fortune Hunters
Rio Guns
... And more to come every month!
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