Free Troubled range by John Thomas Edson Page B

Calamity what the red-head intended to do. Bringing up her legs, Belle hooked them under Calamity's armpits from behind, almost as if she was trying to perform a full nelson with legs instead of arms. Calamity gave a yell as she went over backwards, but carried on rolling to land on her feet and dropped down. She landed on Belle's raised feet, felt them against her chest and knew what to expect even if she could not prevent it happening.
    Thrusting up with her feet, Belle sent Calamity flying backwards across the room to land on a table top. Calamity saw Belle coming at her and rolled back off the table, throwing it over. It landed on Belle's right foot, the edge thudding down on her toes. Belle squealed in pain. She was still hopping on her other foot when Calamity rounded the table.
    Calamity swung herself around, her fist coming in a circle which ended on the side of Belle's jaw. The crowd scattered as Belle went sprawling across the room, hit the bar and clung to it. Dazedly Belle watched Calamity come forward, a chair gripped in her hands ready to strike. The blonde sobbed for

    breath, she tried to force herself from the bar to avoid the blow.
    "We'd better stop Calam," Mark said to Stocker.
    "Ye—Dabnad it, look there."
    Instead of lifting the chair and crashing it on to Belle, Calamity threw it to one side. She staggered to the bar and Belle crouched ready to fight back.
    "H—hold it!" Calamity gasped.
    "H—had e—enough?" Belle replied in surprise.
    "No—no—Feel like a drink."
    "A—and me. Fred, whisky and brandy."
    "What do you make of that?" Stocker asked.
    "Those gals sure must be enjoying the fight. Belle could have finished Calamity against the wall there, and Calamity could sure have sung B—Marigold to sleep with that chair. There's been other times when they could have used a knee, or foot and didn't."
    He hoped Stocker had not noticed the slip he made in his words. Not by a flicker of emotion did Stocker's sleepy face show he had noticed Mark say "Belle" instead of Marigold. However, Mark would have been surprised if he had seen anything on the marshal's face even if he noticed the slip.
    The girls finished their drinks. Watching them, the crowd grew expectant once more. Most of the onlookers had felt disappointed when they saw the fight come to such an indecisive end. Now they realised that the fight had not ended, but that the opponents were just taking a drink while regaining their strength for a resumption of hostilities.
    From his place at the end of the bar, Mark watched the girls and felt puzzled. While he could understand Calamity grand-standing in such a manner, it surprised him that Belle would act in the same awy.
    "My turn," Calamity said, slapping her empty glass on the counter. "Same again, Fred."
    "Here's looking at you," Belle replied, raising her glass. "Not that you'd be seeing much with that eye."
    "If it's worse than yours, it's bad," Calamity grinned. "Whooee, that was a mean one you caught me with at the beginning. Say, where'd you learn to wrestle?"
    "From an Indian. Have you finished?"

    "Sure."
    Setting down her glass, Calamity lashed out her fist, driving it into the blonde's jaw and spinning her in a circle to hit the bar. Belle swung her arm sideways, the heel of her hand driving into Calamity's ribs and stopping her forward rush.
    For thirty minutes by the bar-room clock the fight raged, from start, to when the two girls, tottering on legs which looked like heat-buckled candles, gave Stocker cause to think he might have to end the fight.
    "I'll have to stop 'em if they go any further, Mark," the marshal said as Calamity staggered from a push and left her torn shirt in Belle's hands.
    "Looks that way," Mark replied, for Belle had lost her blouse.
    It could not go on. The girls were on their last reserves of strength. Where their slaps had sounded like whip-cracks on landing, they now barely made a sound and on reaching flesh seemed more in the nature of a gentle