whole townâs shook up. The colonel and his men are on our trail.â
âYou took a hell of a chance riding in on that stallion,â Cross said.
Bard gave him a short grin.
âI had to see how it rides,â he said. He watched Cross shake his head, raise the bottle and take a deepswig. He continued. âWeâve got dead there. Theyâve got Fish and Rudy. The colonel took them along with him, following our trail.â
âDamn it,â Cross said under his breath. He sidled his horse over beside Worley and handed him the bottle. âFish wonât tell them nothing. Rudy might.â
âThe colonel took them along so he can hang them out here, keep from too many townsfolk seeing it,â Bard said.
âSince when did townsfolk start caring about watching outlaws hang?â said Cross.
âThe colonel likes to play it safe, I suppose,â said Bard. He looked back across the stretch of desert heâd just crossed. âFor two cents Iâd stick here and pick their eyes out when they get here.â
âIâve got that two cents,â Cross said.
Bard looked at Worley.
âWhat about you, Kid Domino? You up for it?â he asked. He looked at the dark dried blood on the young outlawâs shirt, his neck, down his ear. Worley wiped a hand across his lips, following a deep drink of whiskey.
âIâve got nothing planned that canât wait,â he said with a weak grin. He handed the whiskey down to Bard, who took it, swirled it in the bottle and took a drink.
Corking the bottle, Bard studied the settling whiskey as he considered the matter. He knew the colonel and his men were on their trail; he knew they would be showing up here, either on the hill trails or on the desert flats heâd just crossed.
This is perfect ambush country.
âWell, what do you say, Max?â Cross finally asked.
Bard let out a tight breath. âNo, weâre going on. I hate to start out doing one thing and end up doing something else.â
âHell, Max, we got ambushed ourselves,â said Cross. âWe didnât ask to get skunked out on this job.â
âIt makes no difference if we kill the colonel or he and his men kill us,â said Bard. âItâs no skin off Siedellâs rump. He still gets no sting from it.â
âLikely he never will,â Cross said in a weary voice. He rested his gloved hands on his saddle horn and let out a breath. âSo, you call it. Stick here and shoot who we can, or cut out of here and get ready for what comes next?â
âIâm still out for King Curtis Siedell,â said Bard. âI want him to pay for what he done.â
âSo do I,â Cross said stoically.
Worley sat watching, listening, knowing that this was all about things that had happened before his time, all the way back during the last days of the civil conflict.
Finally Bard said again, âNo, weâre going on. Weâll circle wide of Gun Hill and try to find Dewey Lucas and Russell Gant.â
âWhat about Fish and Rudy?â Worley cut in.
Bard and Cross gave each other a look.
âForget them, Kid,â Bard said. âThey were as good as dead the minute the colonel sank his claws in them.â He turned to the stallion and rubbed its hot, sweaty muzzle. The spare horse stood beside it. âOne good thing,â he continued, âall these loose horses running around out here is making it tougher for the colonel to figure which prints belong to us.â
âAw, ainât that too bad?â Cross said with a wry grin. âI hate putting the man to all this trouble.â
âI still want to kill him,â Bard said seriously. He swung up atop the stallion and took the spare horseâs lead rope from the saddle horn.
âThereâs plenty of
colonels
just like him waiting to take his place,â Cross said. âSiedell knows that.â The three of them turned their
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