Bullets Don't Die by J. A. Johnstone Read Free Book Online

himself aside. Ahern plowed into the saloon wall at full speed. The Trailblazer Saloon was well built. The wall shivered slightly, but the building didn’t fall down. Ahern bounced off and stumbled backward toward the edge of the boardwalk again.
    The Kid helped him along by bending sideways at the waist, lifting his right foot, and driving the heel of his boot into Ahern’s stomach.
    The railing, already broken, wasn’t there to slow him as he flew off the boardwalk. His arms flailed wildly, but there was nothing for him to catch. He landed a good ten feet from the edge of the boardwalk, with a sound much like a boulder would have made had it been dropped from a height. He didn’t moan, didn’t writhe, didn’t try to get up. His hands and feet twitched a couple of times, and then he lay still.
    The Kid looked around to see if Tate was still all right. He saw the old lawman standing a few yards away, but Tate was no longer alone. A tall, rawboned man stood with him and he had a gun in his hand.
    The Kid’s Colt was gone. He had dropped it sometime during the ruckus, and while he was sure it was nearby he couldn’t see it.
    Anyway, he wouldn’t have wanted to draw on the man with Tate, but that fella was wearing a badge, too.
    Tate said, “Are you all right, uh . . . uh . . . ?” He had forgotten The Kid’s name again.
    Hesitating a moment to catch his breath, The Kid said, “Yeah, I reckon I’m fine, Marshal. My ribs’ll be a little sore from that bear hug, but Ahern didn’t break any of them.”
    “You’re lucky, mister,” the younger badge-toter said. “Jed Ahern has squeezed the life plumb out of more than one man.”
    That news didn’t surprise The Kid, having felt the strength of Ahern’s grip.
    “Why isn’t he in prison, then?”
    The man shrugged. “They were fair fights. As fair as any fight between Ahern and a human being could be, I guess. Although to really be fair, he’d have to be fighting a grizzly bear or a mountain lion.”
    The Kid pointed to the body still lying in the street near the boardwalk. “I’m pretty sure he shot that man, then threw him out the window for good measure.”
    “Did you actually see that happen?”
    “Well, no,” The Kid admitted, “but there were a lot of shots in the saloon, and then just as the marshal and I got here, the body came flying out through the window. Ahern sauntered out just a second or two later, obviously pleased with himself.”
    “But you didn’t actually see him hurt anybody, is that right?”
    “No,” The Kid snapped. “Not until he attacked the marshal and me when we tried to take him to jail.” He wondered why Tate was staring at the boardwalk with a confused frown on his face instead of speaking up.
    “That’s another thing,” the younger lawman said. “You keep calling old Jared here the marshal, when he’s not. He hasn’t been for several years now.”
    The Kid had been afraid of that. His worry was confirmed.
    “Not true,” Tate muttered without looking up. “I’m the marshal of Copperhead Springs. I’m the marshal.”
    “No, Jared, I am, remember? Riley Cumberland ?”
    Tate still didn’t look up, but he shook his head stubbornly. “I’m the marshal.”
    Cumberland looked at The Kid. “Look, mister, I reckon I can give you the benefit of the doubt if you thought you were lending a helping hand to a real lawman, but you weren’t. Jared retired as the town’s marshal four years ago when he started getting forgetful. If you’ve been around him for very long at all, you’ll have seen how easily he gets confused.”
    “I’ve seen it,” The Kid said, his face and voice grim. “I also saw him save my life a few days ago.”
    “Well, I don’t doubt it a bit. Jared was a mighty fine lawman in his time, and on his good days, I guess he can still handle himself pretty well.” Cumberland’s voice hardened. “But he’s got no right to arrest anybody anymore. I don’t even know what he’s doing here.