Free Collection 1986 - The Trail To Crazy Man (v5.0) by Louis L’Amour Page B

one I’ll kill will be you, Gomer!”
    Pod Gomer’s face turned sullen. “You ain’t goin’ to be bothered. I’m the law here. Let’s go!”
    “Gomer,” Tex Brisco said viciously, “if anything happens to him I’ll kill you and Barkow both!”
    “That goes for me, too!” Gill said harshly.
    “And me!” Marsh put in. “I’ll get you if I have to drygulch you, Gomer.”
    “Well, all right!” Gomer said angrily. “It’s just a trial. I told ’em I didn’t think much of it, but the judge issued the warrant.”
    He was scowling blackly. It was all right for them to issue warrants, but if they thought he was going to get killed for them, they were bloody well wrong!
    Pod Gomer jammed his hat down on his head. This was a far cry from the coal mines of Lancashire, but sometimes he wished he was back in England. There was a look in Brisco’s eyes he didn’t like.
    “No,” he told himself, “he’ll be turned loose before I take a chance. Let Barkow kill his own pigeons. I don’t want these Bar M hands gunnin’ for
me
!”
    The man who had ridden the other horse stepped out of the cabin, followed closely by Bo Marsh. There was no smile on the young cowhand’s face. The man was Bruce Barkow.
    For an instant, his eyes met Caradec’s. “This is just a formality,” Barkow said smoothly. “There’s been some talk around Painted Rock, and a trial will clear the air a lot. Of course if you’re innocent, Caradec, you’ll be freed.”
    “You sure of that?” Rafe’s eyes smiled cynically. “Barkow, you hate me and you know it. If I ever leave that jail alive, it won’t be your fault.”
    Barkow shrugged. “Think what you want,” he said indifferently. “I believe in law and order. We’ve got a nice little community at Painted Rock, and we want to keep it that way. Boyne had challenged you, and that was different. Bonaro had no part in the fight.”
    “No use arguin’ that here,” Gomer protested. “Court’s the place for that. Let’s go.”
    Tex Brisco lounged down the steps, his thumbs hooked in his belt. He stared at Gomer.
    “I don’t like you,” he said coolly. “I don’t like you a bit. I think you’re yellow as a coyote. I think you bob every time this here Barkow says bob.”
    Gomer’s face whitened, and his eyes shifted.
    “You’ve got no call to start trouble!” he said. “I’m doin’ my duty.”
    “Let it ride,” Caradec told Tex. “There’s plenty of time.”
    “Yeah,” Tex drawled, his hard eyes on Gomer, “but just for luck I’m goin’ to mount and trail you into town, keepin’ to the hills. If that bunch of Shute riders gets fancy, I’m goin’ to get myself a sheriff, and”—his eyes shifted—“maybe another hombre.”
    “Is that a threat?” Barkow asked contemptuously. “Talk is cheap.”
    “Want to see how cheap?” Tex prodded. His eyes were ugly and he was itching for a fight. It showed in every line of him. “Want me to make it expensive?”
    Bruce Barkow was no fool. He had not seen Tex Brisco in action, yet there was something chill and deadly about the tall Texan. Barkow shrugged.
    “We came here to enforce the law. Is this resistance, Caradec?”
    “No,” Rafe said. “Let’s go.”
    The three men turned their horses and walked them down the trail toward Long Valley. Tex Brisco threw a saddle on his horse and mounted. Glancing back, Pod Gomer saw the Texan turn his horse up a trail into the trees. He swore viciously.
    ____________
    C ARADEC SAT HIS horse easily. The trouble would not come now. He was quite sure the plan had been to get him away and then claim the Shute riders had taken him from the law. Yet he was as sure it would not come to that now. Pod Gomer would know that Brisco’s Winchester was within range. Also, Rafe was still wearing his guns.
    Rafe rode warily, lagging a trifle behind the sheriff. He glanced at Barkow, but the rancher’s face was expressionless. Ahead of them, in a tight bunch, waited the Shute