Free Bounty Guns by Luke; Short Page B

from?”
    Tip stopped talking, and Buck said nothing, only looked uncomfortable. Tip went on relentlessly. “I can tell you what you did, Buck. You trailed those horses back to where Blackie Mayfell was really murdered. And you saw something there that you don’t want to believe. You’re hidin’ someone, Buck. Who is it? Cam or Hagen?”
    â€œNo,” Buck said. “That’s not true!”
    Ball said gently, “It’s part true, Buck. You can’t hide it.”
    Buck wheeled away and walked to the corridor window that looked down on the street. There was an agony of indecision reflected in his face. Tip signed to Ball to keep quiet, and then he walked up to Buck.
    â€œDo you like this feudin’, Buck?”
    â€œI hate it!” Buck said angrily, not looking at Tip.
    â€œBall and you and I are going to clear it up,” Tip said quietly. “The man over there in that cell is one of three or four men who’s kept it goin’, Buck. He’s in jail. There’ll be others in jail, before we’re done. But if you’re goin’ to work with us, we’ve got to have the truth—all the truth about Blackie Mayfell. Because I think we can use Blackie Mayfell’s death to bust this wide open. What about it?”
    Buck looked at him then, sudden hope in his eyes. “You and me and Ball?”
    Tip nodded. “Of all the men in this fight, Buck, you’re the only man who isn’t a liar and who hates it. That’s why we’ve picked on you for help. Are you goin’ to string along with us?”
    Buck came to a sudden decision. “If you want me.”
    â€œWe want you, and what you can tell us, too.”
    Buck wiped the sweat from his forehead with his handkerchief and looked at Ball, who nodded assent. “All right,” Buck said in a tight voice, “I’m tellin’ the truth now, Woodring. I did backtrack those horses, trailed ’em deep onto Three B range until I come to the place where they’d picked up Blackie Mayfell. There was a lot of horse tracks there, and boot tracks—and other tracks. I found Blackie’s tracks, and they was old. But there was one more set of tracks just as old as Blackie’s. They”—he looked miserably at Tip—“was a woman’s.”
    Tip was puzzled. Ball said, “Anna Bolling’s, you mean?”
    Buck nodded mutely. Ball coughed warningly and said, “You’re sure of that, Buck?”
    When Buck nodded again, Ball shook his head. “Hell, that don’t mean anything, Buck.”
    â€œOf course it don’t,” Buck said quickly, apparently relieved, “only it don’t look very good. Anna Bolling wouldn’t hurt a fly,” he stated positively, as if challenging them to deny it.
    â€œShe could have found him,” Ball said.
    â€œThat’s what I thought. Only I couldn’t tell Haig or Cam because they’d have brought it to you, Sheriff. And maybe she—well, maybe she couldn’t explain it, and they’d have crowded you into makin’ trouble for her.”
    â€œI won’t trouble her,” Ball said gently. “Not that way.”
    Buck drew a deep sigh of relief. Tip, remembering the glimpse of Anna Bolling he’d had that first night, and recalling her words, thought he understood now. Buck was trying to be fair to a girl whose family he hated, torn between that and his loyalty to his own. And something else, too.
    Buck said gently, “She’s the only Bolling alive that wouldn’t like to see all us Shieldses dead.” He laughed shortly. “Well, maybe we will be, now that Haig’s put away.”
    â€œWhy?” Tip asked.
    â€œBecause when they hear about it, they’ll raid us. They’re afraid of Haig, but not of Cam or me or the others.”
    Ball said grimly, “Maybe we can arrange a little reception for them, Buck.”
    Buck only smiled