Free Ralph Compton Death Along the Cimarron by RALPH COMPTON Page A

afford that, partner, now can I?”
    Before either Dave or Ellen could say another word, Earl leaned farther down, snatched Ellen under her arm, and swung her upward. Ellen let out a short scream and batted her fists against Earl’s shoulders as he held her against his chest. He stepped his horse back as Dave Waddell lunged at him.
    â€œLet her go, Earl! Let her go!” Dave shouted. He grabbed at Earl’s stirrup, but Earl cocked his boot and kicked him back a step.
    â€œNow you’ve gone and done it, partner,” Earl said, seeing Dave stagger backward, his hand going for his pistol. Earl drew his first, aimed it, and cocked it, keeping Ellen against him, giving Dave nothing to shoot at but his wife. “You was going to shoot me, I do believe!” Earl said in mock surprise. Dave stopped cold and spread his hands away from his gun belt.
    â€œEarl, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it!” said Dave. “Just let her go!”
    Earl shook his head. “No, no, partner. I just can’t overlook something like that. I suppose I’m going to have to go on and kill you.” He leveled his pistol out at arm’s length.
    â€œNo, wait!” Ellen shouted, squirming against Earl’s arm. “Don’t kill him, please!” She spoke quickly. “It’s me you want, but don’t kill him! If you kill him, you’ll have to kill me too—I swear it! Leave him alone, and I’ll go with you. I’ll do anything you say! You have my word! Just let him live.”
    â€œWell, listen to this,” Earl chuckled, letting his pistol slump, not as intent now on shooting Dave Waddell. “This little honey of yours ain’t no fool, Davey. She knows this ain’t really about you saying anything to the law.” He lowered his pistol and hugged Ellen up closer, pressing his beard-stubbled cheek to hers. “We’re going to get along fine, you and me,” he said, half whispering his words to Ellen as he watched the sickened expression on Dave’s face.
    Backing his horse without taking his eyes off Dave Waddell, Earl called out over his shoulder. “Sherman, get over here and give me a hand.”
    Sherman Fentress kicked his horse forward, snatching Ellen Waddell from Earl’s arm as Earl held her out to him. “Keep an eye on his little filly while I step down and talk some sense to my partner here.”
    â€œEarl. Let her go, please!” said Dave Waddell. “I’m begging you.” Almost sobbing, Dave stepped forward, still carefully keeping his hands away from his guns as Earl slipped down from his saddle and swaggered up to him, pulling off his right glove one finger at a time.
    â€œDavey, get a grip on yourself.” Earl threw his arm across Waddell’s shoulders, drawing him close almost in a headlock, the same way he had earlier. “Listen to me, partner. We can kick this subject back and forth and call it anything we want to.” He slipped Dave’s Colt .45 from its holster and shoved it down behind his belt as he continued speaking. “But the fact is, I’m taking that woman with me.... I’m doing as I please with her, and I’m keeping her as long as it suits me. You might as well understand and get used to it.” He spread Dave’s suit coat open, eased the small .36 caliber pistol from his waist, and held it barrel first in his hand, hefting it, judging its weight. “When I’m through with her, you can have her back.”
    â€œNo, Earl, please, for God sakes!” Dave begged, his eyes filled with tears. “Don’t do this.... That’s my wife.”
    â€œWives, cattle, horses, what have you.” Earl shrugged. “It makes no difference to me.... I take what I want. You ought to seen this coming from a mile down the road. Hell, man, I’m a thief and a killer. You think her being your wife means a damn thing to me? You ought to have had better sense,