Free Stampede at Rattlesnake Pass by Clay More Page B

was unable to move either her
hands or her feet and she realized that she had been slung over
Trixie’s saddle, and that her hands and feet were tied and a
linking loop was knotted under Trixie’s belly.
    "Gah!" she exclaimed angrily. "Who the hell
did this?"
    She was greeted by a chorus of laughter from
what she perceived to be three men riding alongside her.
    "The girl can cuss," said one voice.
    "Maybe we got ourselves a whore and not a
lady," sneered another.
    "Sure isn’t going to matter which, anyhow,"
growled a third.
    Elly felt a sharp pain on her bottom,
accompanied by the sound of a smack from the flat of the third
voice’s hand. Then the three men guffawed again.
    "You will pay for that – all three of you!"
Elly hissed defiantly. "What do you want? Money?"
    "Maybe a little more than money," returned
the third voice.
    "You wouldn’t dare!" Elly snapped, although
she felt far less sure of herself than she sounded.
    "We’ll see," said the first voice. "It will
be sun-up soon. Time for my two friends here to have a bit of a
rest and maybe feed you some breakfast. As for me – I will see you
after I attend to some business – in maybe a day or so."
    The horses had all stopped and Elly heard
the men whispering to one another as the sun began to rise over the
cactus and red-boulder strewn dessert. She strained her ears to
hear what was being said.
    "Take her to the cabin to the west of
Rattlesnake Pass," said the leader. "Wait a day then bring her
along and meet me. Just remember what I told you, and don’t let
anyone get near you. If they do – kill them!"
    Raising her head as much as she was able,
Elly saw the leader spur his horse into what she recognized to be
Rattlesnake Pass.
    "Come on then, lady," said the second voice.
"I don’t know about you, but I could sure eat some breakfast –
first!"
    * * *
    Jake mounted the steps of the Silver City
Classic Hotel three at a time and tapped on Elly’s door. He waited
for a few seconds, which he thought was respectful, and then
knocked again, louder this time. "Elly! Elly, I need to talk to
you," he called through the door.
    He heard somebody grumble from a neighboring
room, but heard not a stir from Elly’s room. He tried the handle
and found it locked.
    "What is the noise all about?" came a voice
from behind him, and he spun around, his hand hovering above the
handle of his Remington.
    Joe Holland, the lame night-porter,
disheveled and bleary-eyed from half a bottle of rye whiskey
staggered back a pace with his hands above his head. "Don’t shoot,
mister. I’m just the night porter." Then he blinked and recognized
Jake from the evening before. "That isn’t your room, Mr. Scudder.
Your room is down the hall. That is the lady’s room." And as soon
as he said it a lascivious look flashed across his face.
    Jake spied the hotel master key dangling
from his belt. "I know that, you darned fool!" he said,
impatiently. "I have a bad feeling – get that door open before I
break it in!"
    "I can’t," Holland replied. "Every guest’s
room is private, so long as they have paid. It’s hotel policy."
    Jake’s hand curled over the handle of the
Remington. "I just changed hotel policy. Now open that door.
Pronto!"
    Joe Holland’s head bobbed up and down with
alacrity as he tremulously shoved the key in the lock and opened
the door with as much haste as he could muster.
    "S-sorry, ma’am. I was made to –" he mumbled
as he stood at the door. "Why, it's empty!" he gasped. "She's gone,
Mr. Scudder."
    "I can see that for myself," replied Jake,
irritably, entering the room and looking around. "All her things
are here." Then he spied a red patch on the floor and bent to
examine it. "Blood!"
    His eyes came up and fixed accusingly on Joe
Holland. "How come you let a guest get kidnapped?"
    "K-kidnapped? No way, Mr. Scudder. I was
down there all evening. Except for when I got that – "
    Jake grabbed his shirt front and pulled him
close and thundered, "When you got –