Read Online Sunset Trail by Wayne D. Overholser - Free Book Online

thuds.
    Rifles cracked. Flame tongues vomited into the dawn light. Purdy’s exulting battle cry rose above the din as a Kiowa was knocked off his horse.
     “Give hit to ’em fer hoss ’n’ beaver, boys. Thar’s one fer the wolves to chaw.”
    Mick Catherwood lay beside Bruce under a wagon, her rifle taking the same toll his was exacting.
    Men cried out in agony. Kiowas split the air with strident, taunting war cries. Whites flung back their curses. Horses plunged
     and neighed. Mules brayed.
    An arrow ripped into Bruce’s shoulder. He clenched his teeth and reloaded his rifle. Outside an Indian crept close to the
     wagons, raised his bow, and died before the crack of Mick Cather-wood’s gun.
    “We got ’em, boys!” Bill Purdy howled. “They’re pulling out.”
    “They’ll hang around waiting for us to roll out, ”Bruce said, “so we’ll fool ’em and stay corralled.”
    “I’ll give the orders now, Shane,” Flint said quietly. “We’ll roll out now, and I don’t want to hear any argument out of you
     about going the Fort Bent way.”
    “We’re staying here, Flint.” Bruce swung a hand toward the men who had begun
     to gather. “You’re Americans, most of you, and being Americans there’s only one thing you can do when you’re told that Wade
     Flint is freighting four thousand guns into Santa Fé to supply an army he hopes will establish a Republic of New Mexico, an
     army that will fight Kearny. Some of these guns are supposed to go to the Comanches who have been bribed to stop every American
     caravan on the trail. Flint’s a traitor.”
    “You’re a fool, Shane, if you. . . .”
    “These guns will kill American Dragoons in Raton Pass,” Bruce cut in, “or Apache Cañon. I say to hold them here till Kearny
     comes, and hold Flint for Kearny to hang.”
    Bruce couldn’t tell, by watching the men, whether he’d convinced them or not. They stood in indecision while Flint’s taunting
     laugh slapped at Bruce.
    “I said you were a fool, Shane. I’m paying these men good wages to get these wagons through.” He turned to the wagoners. “We’ve
     beaten off the redskins once. We can do it again. Harness up and get across. If Shane makes any trouble, put him on his horse
     and start him for Fort Bent.”
    They didn’t move, still gripped by indecision. It was Curt Glover, under the next wagon with an arrow in his paunch, who made
     up their minds.
    “Shane’s right!” Glover shouted. “Flint was inside the wagon while we did the fighting. He killed Ed Catherwood before we
     left Independence because Catherwood was raising hell about the guns.”
    Flint wheeled on him. Hand whipping to his gun, he bawled an oath-and then crumpled before the blazing blast of Bruce Shane’s
     pistol.
    “Stay corralled till the Dragoons come,” Bruce breathed, and, breaking at knee and waist, fell into the sand that was made
     wet by his blood.
    Mick Catherwood cradled his head in her lap. Purdy cried: “We’ll push thet arrer through and cut the shaft! Thet boy ain’t
     gonna be wolf meat on the trail.”
    Bruce’s eyes were open, searching the girl’s. He whispered: “I gambled that those boys wouldn’t back Flint when they knew
     the truth. That’s why he pulled his gun on Glover. If Glover hadn’t had his say, I’d have been gone beaver.”
    “Glover showed more courage than I thought he had in him.” Tears were in her eyes. “Bruce, you’ve got to live.”
    “Sure. I want to see Kearny march into Santa Fé after I get some marrying done.”
    And Bill Purdy, knife in hand, had to wait in astonishment while Mick Catherwood kissed Bruce Shane on the lips.
    “What the hell . . .,” Purdy began.
    “Aw oman, Bill,” Bruce murmured, “who found out that all of her instincts weren’t a man’s.”

I
    Amity was on the biggest binge in its history, not alcoholic, but one of exuberance and enthusiasm and triumph. Tomorrow was
     Dam Day. Enough money had been raised to finish building