Free Ralph Compton Train to Durango by Ralph Compton Page B

said. “By the time we’re ready to board the train for Dodge, I suspect they’ll be watching us.”
    â€œMy God,” said Harley, “they might stop or derail the train.”
    â€œI doubt it,” Silver said. “They know Renita and Tamara are with us, and that we’ll be taking them to a place of safety. They’ll telegraph ahead to Dodge and Kansas City, having somebody waiting at both railroad depots. I think we’ll check in at the Dodge House and wait for them to make their move.”
    â€œYou’re that sure they’ll be coming?” Harley asked.
    â€œI’m sure,” said Silver. “They want us dead.”
    â€œ
Sí
,“ El Lobo said. “They come.”

Chapter 4
    Boulder, Colorado, March 28, 1885
    While the locomotive got up steam, Silver, Wes, and El Lobo led their five horses into the boxcar Harley Stafford had provided. Silver, Wes, El Lobo, Renita, and Tamara then joined Harley in one of the passenger coaches. Unseen eyes watched, and when the train pulled out, a stranger was aboard in the coach directly behind Silver and his party.
    â€¢Â Â Â â€¢Â Â Â â€¢
    In Denver, Gandy Franks read with satisfaction the telegram he had sent to Boulder, and a second one that had gone to Dodge. Hutsinger and his deadly Winchester would be aboard the eastbound train, with instructions to kill. If, for any reason, Hutsinger failed, yet another trusted member of the legion of outlaws, Gannon, would be waiting in Dodge. He would immediately telegraph Denver, so that Franks would know if Silver and his party left the train at Dodge, or continued on to Kansas City.
    â€¢Â Â Â â€¢Â Â Â â€¢
    Aboard the eastbound, Hutsinger got up and made his way to the end of the coach, to the glass-paneled door that opened to the observation deck. He opened the door and went out, coughing as smoke from the locomotive’s stack swirled about him. When the smoke cleared, he stepped across to the deck of the coach that was coupled behind his own. He removed his hat and knelt down, so that he could see through the door’s glass panel with little chance of his being seen. He noted with satisfaction that Silver, Harley Stafford, Wes, and El Lobo sat in seats facing the opposite end of the coach. Their backs were to him, with only the two women facing him. He would be returning to Boulder afoot, so he could not afford to stay aboard the train much longer. Swiftly he drew the Winchester from its canvas pouch, jacking a shell into the chamber. He got to his knees, prepared to shoot through the glass panel of the door. Wes Stone and Bryan Silver, the backs of their heads to him, were perfect targets. There were no other passengers in the way. Only Renita and Tamara were facing him. Slowly his finger tightened on the trigger. . . .
    â€œAsesino!” Tamara shouted.
    She had earlier belted the .31-caliber Colt around her slender waist, and with a swiftness that her companions would later recall with wonder, she drew the weapon and fired. While the slug missed Hutsinger, it shattered the glass in the door, and the slug from the bushwhacker’s Winchester ripped into the ceiling of the coach. In an instant, Silver, Wes, El Lobo, and Harley had their Colts out, and answering lead screamed through the shattered door. Hutsinger dropped the Winchester, seeking only to escape with his life. But one of the slugs sang off the iron railing of the adjoining coach, and the deadly ricochet ripped into the unfortunate gunman. With a scream, Hutsinger slipped between the coaches and fell to the track below.
    â€œ
Sangre de Christo
,” said El Lobo, struggling into the aisle.
    In the coach ahead, the conductor pulled the emergency signal, and the train lurched to a shuddering, grinding halt. Wes, Silver, and El Lobo were thrown to their knees in the aisle, their Colts in their hands. Empty crept fearfully from beneath a seat, not quite sure