High Valley Manhunt: Laramie Davies #1 by B. S. Dunn Read Free Book Online

say anything at the moment. There would
be time enough for that later. They needed to put distance between
them and whatever it was that had the Blackfeet so riled. He climbed
back into the saddle and gave Bo a slight touch with his heels and
the Horse walked out of the trees, “Come on then, let's go. But
keep an eye out for any more Indians. The last thing we need is them
on our trail.”

Chapter 6
    The
posse was strung out along the rough trail when the light breeze
brought the sound of the distant gun fire. Jeb Coltrain brought them
all to a halt by a raised hand. His brother Zeb, rode up beside him
and asked frustratedly, “Why are we stopping?”
    Jeb
looked at him and for a moment wondered if his brother was losing it.
He shook his head and said evenly, “I can hear gunfire up
ahead.”
    “Yes,
so,” the judge dismissed it, “I can hear it too. Hence my
question, why are we stopping?”
    “Well
shoot Judge, I ain't about to ride headlong into a gunfight I know
nothin' about,” the Sheriff whipped around in the saddle, “Jim,
go and take a look.”
    “Will
do,” Jim Clancy said as he moved his mount forward past the
Coltrain brothers.
    “And
stay out of sight,” the Sheriff added unnecessarily.
    “We're
wasting time sitting here Jeb,” said the Judge.
    “If
it keeps us alive, then it isn't a waste of time, Judge.”
    “And
meanwhile that murdering son of a bitch is getting further away,”
spat Zeb in frustration.
    The
Sheriff let it go. He could understand his brother's angst, but he
needed to be a little more patient. They would catch Davis
eventually, and then the Judge could unleash his vengeance upon the
gunfighter.
    Fifteen
minutes later, Jim Clancy returned at a gallop then dragged back on
the reins and brought his Bay round and skidded to a halt.
    “The
way station is under attack from Indians, Jeb,” Clancy said
concernedly.
    “How
many Indians are you talkin' about Jim?” asked Sheriff
Coltrain, unperturbed.
    “They
look like they've been whittled down some, but my guess would be
fifteen, maybe a few more.”
    Jeb
Coltrain thought for a moment, then drew his Colt and checked the
loads, “Alright,” he said loud enough for everyone to
hear, “Let's go kill us some redskins,”
    “Now
just hold on a minute Sheriff,” Orson Blake protested.
    The
Sheriff gave Blake a withering look, “Do you have somethin' to
say Blake?”
    Orson
thought about it briefly, then dropped his gaze and shook his head.
    “Didn't
think so,” Jeb focused his gaze on the Judge, “Reckon you
can keep up on that mule of yours?”
    The
Judge pulled the Webley revolver from his pocket, “My mule
could outrun that damn nag of yours on his worst day.”
    “Alright
then, let's go.”

    *

    “Hey
Blackie, I'm getting' low on ammunition,” Benny shouted across
to the outlaw as the latest attack died away.
    “You
ain't the only one kid,” Harbin agreed, “another rush
like that last one and I'll be all out.”
    Things
were bad. Since the initial assault, targets were hard to acquire.
The Blackfeet would move in quickly and loose shots, then fall back.
This caused the defenders to waste valuable ammunition even if they
made the occasional kill shot.
    “Keep
an eye out,” Harbin said and ducked off to check the others.
    Both
had the same issues; too many Indians and not enough ammunition.
Blackie called the group together, “Listen up, you know how bad
it is so this is what I propose to do. On the next attack, we go out
that door and take the fight to them. Have all your weapons fully
loaded and ready to go.”
    “Not
much of a plan,” Cato pointed out.
    “Would
you rather stay in here until we run out of ammunition?” Harbin
asked scornfully.
    “Didn't
say that Blackie, just said it wasn't much of a plan,” Cato
said defensively, “But I guess it's better than the
alternative.”
    “Exactly,”
Harbin agreed, “anybody else have an idea?”
    Benny
said, “I always figured I'd go down in front of a