Ralph Compton Death Along the Cimarron by RALPH COMPTON Read Free Book Online Page A

Cherokee Earl’s feet. “Your brother got what he deserved. He started the whole thing. So you and him both can go straight to—”
    A shot exploded from Earl’s pistol barrel. The man flew backward with the blast and fell dead on the ground, a gout of blood rising from his chest. A woman screamed. The rest of the townsfolk looked on, horrified.
    â€œNow then, who among you good folks wants to be next?” Earl called out. “I got all night and a saddlebag full of bullets. I’ll kill everybody here if I have to.”

Chapter 4
    In the predawn light, a thick layer of smoke loomed above the smoldering remains of Haley Springs. From atop her favorite mount, a chestnut mare named Sundown, Danielle led her eight-horse string cautiously as she and Stick rode into town from the outer darkness of a sandy stretch of flatland. At the far end of the street, short flames licked at the remaining framework of the livery barn. Danielle and Stick had hurried from the moment they’d first spotted the fiery glow from a distance across the rolling land. But even pushing their horses as hard as they dared to, it had still taken them over an hour to get here. By now the raging inferno had run its course. Except for a few charred hulls, the plank buildings that had made up the main street of Haley Springs were gone.
    â€œLord have mercy,” Stick murmured, looking around at the devastation. Embers crackled peacefully like some large animal whose hunger had been satisfied. The empty street lay as silent as stone.
    Danielle brought her mare to a halt and sat studying the scene in stunned disbelief as her string of horses bunched up and stopped beside her. She shot Stick a glance, their eyes meeting for only a second, but long enough for Stick to get an idea what she was thinking.
    â€œWe don’t know for sure it was Cherokee Earl and his bunch,” Stick said, “and even if it was, there was no way you could have known he was coming back here.” As Stick spoke, he sidestepped his horse a few feet away from Danielle as he looked around and shook his head. “But I got to say, given what happened earlier, things sure point in his direction.”
    â€œOh, it was him all right,” said Danielle. “And I should have seen it coming. When we left here after the shooting, I should have expected the unexpected.”
    â€œBut all the same,” said Stick, “there was no reason to—”
    His words cut short beneath a blast of rifle fire coming from the direction of the fallen livery barn.
    Danielle spun the lead rope around her saddle horn quickly and jumped down from the saddle. “Move ‘em out, Sundown!” she shouted, slapping a gloved hand on her chestnut mare’s rump, shooing the animal out of the street. The big mare knew what was expected of her. She bolted away to the right, pulling the frightened string of horses into the shadows. “Take cover, Stick!” Danielle shouted instinctively, already realizing she needn’t worry about the old drover. Stick knew how to take care of himself. She saw that he had jumped down from his saddle almost in unison with her.
    The rifle shot had kicked up dirt ten yards short. Danielle dropped into a crouch and hurried toward the shelter of a water trough, snatching up her Colt and firing a quick shot just to draw any incoming rifle fire away from the fleeing horses. The horses bunched up around Sundown when the mare slid to a halt twenty yards away. They nickered in fright and jerked against the lead rope. But Sundown stood firmly, keeping the animals under control.
    Danielle reached the water trough as another shot whistled through the air. Stick had pulled down a well-worn Spencer rifle from its boot before his horse bolted away with Sundown and the others. Danielle heard the big rifle cock from across the street. Something didn’t feel right about all this, she told herself. A third shot flashed from the