Free Marauders' Moon by Luke; Short

prisoner dad brought home last night. I think he was implicated in the Wagon Mound hold-up.”
    Britt’s eyes changed a little.
    â€œEscaping? After a horse?”
    â€œI got one, thanks,” Webb said, still grinning. “No. This was the first job Tolleston set me to.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œThis.”
    â€œEavesdropping?” Martha asked.
    â€œI think your dad called it spying.”
    Britt’s glance swiveled to Martha, but his gun remained cocked, steady, more than a leap away from Webb.
    â€œIs that straight?” Britt asked her.
    â€œIt could be,” Martha answered coldly. “I hadn’t told you yet, but he questioned me again last night.” She said to Webb, “What did he tell you to do?”
    â€œHe wanted to know where you went—wanted me to spy on you.”
    â€œYou overheard everything?”
    Webb nodded, and he felt the blood crawling up to his face. “I climbed up there because I figured you might leave your horses. I—I aimed to steal one and high-tail it. Your dad gave me a windbroke horse and I can’t escape on it.” He grinned a little as he spoke. “You see, I never held up the bank. I don’t know anything about it—except that I’d like to get out of here.”
    Martha said, “And you expect me to give you mine?”
    â€œI’d sure be obliged,” Webb said earnestly. “I’d give you mine. He’d take you back.”
    Martha’s lip lifted in contempt. “You think I’d betray my father that way?”
    Webb shook his head. “No, I didn’t reckon you would. I just wanted to make sure.”
    Martha said nothing for a moment, then asked Webb, “You know this is Britt Bannister—the son of the man dad has sworn to kill?”
    Webb nodded.
    â€œAnd if he finds out, you know what will happen?”
    â€œI can guess,” Webb said.
    â€œAre you going to tell him?”
    Webb grinned. “Not a word. If you’ll give me your horse, I’ll never see him again.”
    â€œAnd if I won’t, will you go back and tell him?”
    Webb shook his head. “I reckon not. It doesn’t interest me.”
    â€œThat’s a lie,” Bannister said sharply. “Buck Tolleston would free you for this information—he’d give anything to know it! And I reckon you know that!”
    â€œHe wouldn’t, Britt!” Martha said quickly. “He wouldn’t free a bank robber!”
    â€œThat wouldn’t matter to Buck,” Britt cut in. “I’m trying to think of what would happen to you if he was told, Marty.”
    Martha’s eyes flashed, and her mouth was open for a hot retort when Britt said to Webb, “I know how I’ll take care of you, mister.”
    Reaching for his sack of Durham, Webb shrugged. “I reckon I do, too,” Silently Webb was wondering if Britt Bannister knew there was a warrant out for Webb in Wintering County.
    He was sure Martha knew it. What Bannister was about to say, Webb guessed, was that he would take Webb over into Wintering County. And once there, Webb knew, it would be discovered that the law wanted him. But if he could bluff it out, he intended to.
    So he said, looking at Martha, hoping against hope that she would understand and keep his secret, “Haze me out of the country. That’s what you mean, don’t you?”
    â€œNo,” Britt said. “You’ll come home with me.”
    Martha looked at Webb, and he returned her look, his face impassive, waiting. She must have understood, for he heard her say, “Oh, no. Britt. You can’t do that.”
    â€œWhy not? If he goes back to the Broken Arrow, he’ll tell your dad.”
    â€œBut you can’t take him with you!” Martha said vehemently.
    Britt looked strangely at her. “Why not?”
    Martha’s glance at Webb seemed to say: What can I do? She turned to Britt. “What will