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Authors: George G. Gilman
Tags: Western
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slung around his waist, a Peacemaker in the tied-down holster.
It was he who had thrown the water up into Gold’s face, the empty bucket now set down at his side. He was alone on the stoop, but Gold could hear a hushed murmuring from behind him which signified that an audience was gathering. While from further along the street harsh shouts ordered the laggards to hurry.
‘The prospect of cultured conversation with somebody who shares my interest was the real reason I submitted to Eve’s request that you stay, young man.’ Hal Delroy went on as the prisoner struggled to hold back an urge to give vocal response to his pain. ‘And that being so, I cannot now deny her the right to beat you.’
The shouting had ceased and the latecomers shuffled to join the gathering in front of the big house.
‘We have never had to deal with a horse thief in Oceanville before. Elsewhere, it is usual to hang somebody like you and it was my first instinct to do just that. But you did strike a helpless woman and...’
All talk from behind Gold was curtailed and the pale-faced fat man interrupted what he was saying. Gold looked in the same direction that he did as footfalls rapped on the stoop boarding. And saw Eve Delroy approaching, dressed as she had been when punishing the old-timer, and carrying the whip. Grim-faced and looking not in the least helpless.
A rocking chair had been placed to one side of the house entrance and her brother backed over and lowered himself into it.
The woman took his place in front of Gold and fingered the dark contusion on the side of her jaw as she stared hatefully into the green, pain-filled eyes.
For stretched seconds she remained silent. Then, ‘Hal has given permission.’ Her voice was no more than a harsh whisper. But now she screamed loud and shrill, the words resounding off the face of the arc of cliff. ‘To the death, Barnaby Gold!’
Then she went from sight, vaulting over the stoop rail, and he did not try to turn his head to watch her or to see the audience gathered at his back. He continued to stare directly at the closed double doors. And to nurture a hope that his pain-wracked body would not be able to take many biting lashes of the whip before he was again plunged into merciful unconsciousness.
‘Scream, you bastard!’ she shrieked and he heard the hissing sound of the thong as it curled through the warm air of early morning.
But it was she who screamed, and the sound of the whip was suddenly ended.
Cries of shock and alarm and anger erupted from many throats. And Hal Delroy’s booted feet slammed hard to the stoop boarding. But there was not enough noise to mask the unmistakable crack of a rifle shot, not reaching the area of the target until after the bullet found its mark.
Barnaby Gold wrenched his head around now, hardly aware of the fresh wave of pain the sudden move exploded under his skull. And saw Eve Delroy staggering backwards, a dark crimson stain blossoming over the white silk of her blouse where it contoured her left breast.
Her eyes were wide open and already glazed by death. And before she toppled to sprawl out inert on her back, he forced his eyes to the far sides of their sockets, saw that the men and women who were not staring at the dead Eve were peering and pointing toward the top of the cliff behind the house.
Hal Delroy leapt over the stoop rail and half fell to his knees beside the unmoving form of his sister. ‘Holy Mother of God, Eve’s dead!’ he shrieked. And drew his revolver as he staggered to his feet and whirled around - to aim the Colt high and empty it toward the top of the cliff.
‘Handgun’s no use at this range, Hal!’ Joe snarled when the revolver rattled empty.
‘A friggin’ cannon, neither!’ Bud snapped. ‘The bastard’s ducked out of sight.’
The grief-stricken and enraged Delroy hurled the empty gun to the ground and raked his blazing eyes over the shocked, fearful and grimly scowling faces that looked to him for an
It was he who had thrown the water up into Gold’s face, the empty bucket now set down at his side. He was alone on the stoop, but Gold could hear a hushed murmuring from behind him which signified that an audience was gathering. While from further along the street harsh shouts ordered the laggards to hurry.
‘The prospect of cultured conversation with somebody who shares my interest was the real reason I submitted to Eve’s request that you stay, young man.’ Hal Delroy went on as the prisoner struggled to hold back an urge to give vocal response to his pain. ‘And that being so, I cannot now deny her the right to beat you.’
The shouting had ceased and the latecomers shuffled to join the gathering in front of the big house.
‘We have never had to deal with a horse thief in Oceanville before. Elsewhere, it is usual to hang somebody like you and it was my first instinct to do just that. But you did strike a helpless woman and...’
All talk from behind Gold was curtailed and the pale-faced fat man interrupted what he was saying. Gold looked in the same direction that he did as footfalls rapped on the stoop boarding. And saw Eve Delroy approaching, dressed as she had been when punishing the old-timer, and carrying the whip. Grim-faced and looking not in the least helpless.
A rocking chair had been placed to one side of the house entrance and her brother backed over and lowered himself into it.
The woman took his place in front of Gold and fingered the dark contusion on the side of her jaw as she stared hatefully into the green, pain-filled eyes.
For stretched seconds she remained silent. Then, ‘Hal has given permission.’ Her voice was no more than a harsh whisper. But now she screamed loud and shrill, the words resounding off the face of the arc of cliff. ‘To the death, Barnaby Gold!’
Then she went from sight, vaulting over the stoop rail, and he did not try to turn his head to watch her or to see the audience gathered at his back. He continued to stare directly at the closed double doors. And to nurture a hope that his pain-wracked body would not be able to take many biting lashes of the whip before he was again plunged into merciful unconsciousness.
‘Scream, you bastard!’ she shrieked and he heard the hissing sound of the thong as it curled through the warm air of early morning.
But it was she who screamed, and the sound of the whip was suddenly ended.
Cries of shock and alarm and anger erupted from many throats. And Hal Delroy’s booted feet slammed hard to the stoop boarding. But there was not enough noise to mask the unmistakable crack of a rifle shot, not reaching the area of the target until after the bullet found its mark.
Barnaby Gold wrenched his head around now, hardly aware of the fresh wave of pain the sudden move exploded under his skull. And saw Eve Delroy staggering backwards, a dark crimson stain blossoming over the white silk of her blouse where it contoured her left breast.
Her eyes were wide open and already glazed by death. And before she toppled to sprawl out inert on her back, he forced his eyes to the far sides of their sockets, saw that the men and women who were not staring at the dead Eve were peering and pointing toward the top of the cliff behind the house.
Hal Delroy leapt over the stoop rail and half fell to his knees beside the unmoving form of his sister. ‘Holy Mother of God, Eve’s dead!’ he shrieked. And drew his revolver as he staggered to his feet and whirled around - to aim the Colt high and empty it toward the top of the cliff.
‘Handgun’s no use at this range, Hal!’ Joe snarled when the revolver rattled empty.
‘A friggin’ cannon, neither!’ Bud snapped. ‘The bastard’s ducked out of sight.’
The grief-stricken and enraged Delroy hurled the empty gun to the ground and raked his blazing eyes over the shocked, fearful and grimly scowling faces that looked to him for an
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