The Devils Gunslinger Page 3

  “Hey, glad you didn’t spook the herd. They ain’t much used to a trail drive yet. We got to stick to the roads around here there are so damn many wire fences.” He held out his hand.

  “Name is Larry Edwards,” he said.

  “Where all them beefsteaks going?” Sully asked.

  “Heading to Marshall and a stock yard there the Northern Army maintains. Gonna be a lot of steaks and roasts for them Yankees.”

  “How far to the next town on north?” Sully asked.

  “You almost there. I’d say about five miles. Little bitty place and full of hard-nosed Yankees.”

  “How big a place?”

  “Not big, maybe two hundred fancy souls there.”

  “Good luck on your drive,” Sully said waving his men on north. They galloped for a half mile, then settled down to a fast walk.

  “Want to get there before noon,” Sully said. “See what kind of hell we can provide for the Northern no-accounts.”

  An hour later they could see first smoke and then the buildings. Outside the town a sign looked new. It read:

  “This is Shelby, Pop. 212. Our war is not over. Southern Rebs warned to steer clear. We don’t like you.”

  “Let’s see how much we can ruin their day,” Sully said. “Locked and loaded. Targets of opportunity. Let’s ride.”

  They came thundering into town at a hard gallop, shot up the town marshal’s office and then turned to the stores. Three rifles fired at them from the hardware store. They concentrated on it with their Henrys. One man tried to run to the next store and was cut down and dead.

  Curley rode right up the boardwalk to the General Store, vaulted off his mount and crashed through the front door with a six-gun in each hand and a Henry across his back.

  The man behind the counter fired a shotgun at Curley but he ducked behind a display of saddles and tack and avoided the buckshot. He lunged around the display and shot the merchant twice in the chest. He looked around. No more shooter there. He found some kerosene and spread it around then lit it on fire and charged out of the front door.

  Carter raced into the saddle and leather goods store. The only one inside was an old man in his eighties. He shook his head at Carter.

  “Go ahead, kill me. Told them others not to put up that sign. Asking for trouble. Me, I get along with everyone.” He frowned. “You gonna kill me or not?”

  Carter shook his head. “Get out the back door and walk out of town old man. Stay alive that way. Move it, now.”

  The old man did with the aid of a cane. He turned at the back door.

  “Thanks, young feller. Thanks for being a real human being.” Then he was gone.

  Carter wasted no time in setting the leather goods store on fire, surged out the front door, his twin six-guns reloaded with six rounds in each one.

  Johnny Joe Powers had picked out the Best Café to storm into with his guns ready. No one sat at the counter or the tables. A thin girl with a white hat looked over the counter.

  “He ain’t here, he left,” she said.

  Just as she said it a man lifted up beside her and fired at Johnny Joe. The round burned through an inch of flesh on Johnny Joe’s right thigh. His response was automatic. He fired twice with each revolver. One round hit the man in the forehead and he pivoted out of sight. Another round caught the girl in the chest and slammed her backwards.

  Johnny Joe sighed, lit the place on fire and charged out into the street where he saw more of the buildings gushing fire.

  Two riders charged up the street shooting their six-guns at anything that moved. Curley swung up the Henry, picked off the lead rider, shot up the horse of the second gunman, and it went down throwing the rider. Before he could get to his feet, three Henry rifles blasted him into hell.

  All was quiet for a moment.

  David Donnelly had stormed into the livery at the edge of town. He saw no one at a small desk near the big double doors. Farther inside he spotted a kid with a pitchfork.

  “Don’t come no closer,” the kid called.

  “Drop the fork and run out the back door while you still can,” Donnelly said.

  The kid looked around. He waved at the first stall. “Come on,” he whispered.

  Donnelly saw movement at the stall and fired twice. A boy about ten stumbled out of the stall holding one hand over the side of his head. He fell into the straw and never moved.

  “Oh, God,” the kid with the fork cried. He dropped the fork and ran out the back door.

  Donnelly set the straw on fire, saw there were no horses in the stable section, and ran back to the street.

  Fire gushed from a hardware store down the block. Two men rushed out and were shot dead by the hidden Sully Tteam.

  Five women and three kids came out of another store, looked around, and walked down the boards toward the edge of town.

  “Let them go,” Sully roared. A man slid around the corner of a store and fired where he figured Sully was. He missed but took two Henry rounds. One in his shoulder put him down and the second one in his gut dropped his face into the dirt.

  “Let’s burn it to the ground just the way they did our ranches,” Sully roared. He and Hirum sprinted from the side of a store they had been crouched behind toward another store. Two rifle shots sounded and Hirum yelled in surprise, threw up his hands and fell over backwards a huge bloody stain on his chest.

  Sully turned, saw Hirum down and swung his Henry toward the gunman he saw across the street. He emptied the weapon at the shooter, hitting him three times. Sully dropped the rifle and charged the nearest store. He crashed through the door and moments later the building erupted in fire. Now six of the stores were burning. They would set the side by side shops and stores on fire and soon every building in town would be a torch.

  Sully started to clear the stores not burning yet hoping to find more men. They were either all gone or all dead. He ran back to where Hirum lay, picked him up, and ran with him to the alley where he had left both their horses. He gently eased Hirum belly down across his saddle and tied his hands and feet together under the mount. Then he took to his saddle and watched the town burn. When he saw that all but two of the wooden structures were burning he gave a rebel yell and galloped out the short end of the burning street leading Hirum’s horse.

  The other four men on horses followed, they rode out of town a mile, then stopped by a small creek.

  Carter had seen Hirum go down. He grabbed a spade from the hardware store and brought it along on the short ride up the creek. They took turns using the spade, dug out a shallow grave, and eased Hirum into it folding his hands over his chest and covering him with his Southern Great coat he had tired on his saddle. Then they filled in the dirt and topped the mound with all the big rocks and stones they could find along the small stream.

  All five of them stood around with hats in hand. Nobody knew what to say. Then each of them made a comment. Sully was last. He made it quick then nodded.

  “All right, done and done. We ride now on east. I think we’re far enough north.”

  Before they left they unsaddled Hirum’s horse, took off the bridle and scratched the mounts neck. Then they slapped it on the flanks and it took off upstream.

  They watched the horse for a moment, then Donnelly took off his hat and turned it around and around in his hands. He looked at each of the men and slowly shook his head.

  “I’m done. Killed a young kid back there. It wasn’t at all like I thought it might be. I’m done here. Ride with you until dark, then I’m turning back south and east and heading home to Tennessee.”

  Chapter Five

  Sully looked at Donnelly and nodded. “I know that was an intense few minutes back there, but let’s all of us think it through and be sure what we want to do next. I know how you feel, Donnelly. Had some of the same thoughts myself. For right now we need to get some more space away from that burned up little town. Any one get hit?”

  “Got a scratch in my leg,” Johnny Joe said.

  “Okay,
dismount, let’s take a look at it. Who has the kit of medical things?”

  Carter brought it up and Sully pulled down Johnny Joe’s pants and looked at the wound. It had bled a lot. He smeared some ointment on the wound. Put on a pad of cloth and wrapped it tight with a roller bandage. It stopped the bleeding.

  Johnny Joe grinned. “Yeah, feels better. Didn’t know I was draining out blood that way. I’m good for a long ride now.”

  They rode until almost dark, Sully pulled them up near a small river, and they all got down.

  Donnelly stayed in his saddle.

  “Better get down and have some supper,” Sully told him. “Then we need to split up that bank money we have. You still set on going home?”

  “More than ever. Got things to do back there in Memphis.” He hesitated. “Yeah, a good meal would get me a nice start. Could I take some of the trail food along with me?”

  “Absolutely, Donnelley.” Sully looked for Curley and called to him. “Hey Curley, get a fire going and fix us some supper. Lots to pick from in the food sacks. I’ve got to count out some money here for Donnelly.”

  He got the bags of money from his saddle and spread out a blanket. He took out a pad of paper and a pencil. On the pad was the total cash: three thousand, six hundred and sixty two dollars. That was after he had given fifty dollars to each of them.

  He looked at Donnelly. “Can you find Hirum Oaks’ family back home?”

  “Knew them before the war. Yep, I know some of their kin. I can find his widow.”

  “Good we split the money six ways and each of us gets six hundred and ten dollars. Let me do some counting out here.”

  He counted out two stacks of six hundred and ten dollars and tied each bundle with string. Sully looked up at Donnelly. “You still a mind to go home?”

  “Deed I am, sir. I done seen enough killing to last me the rest of my life. I’m done with the vengeance. Now I just want to see if I can get my farm back and start a new family.”

  Sully handed him the two bundles of cash.

  “Counting on you to find Hirum’s family. Next time I’m in Memphis I’ll try to find you.”

  Johnny Joe came up frowning. “Lieutenant, you gonna let Donnelly ride out of here alone? Long damn way to Memphis through lots of hostile country.”

  “Been thinking about that. Also worried that the slug never came out of your thigh. You need to see a sawbones and get it ripped out. Maybe it’s time for you to find that doctor, then ride back to Memphis with Donnelly.”

  “What I was thinking. Him and me get along just fine. And we can look out for each other.”

  “You want to draw your share?”

  “Be more than helpful.”

  Sully counted out another six hundred and ten dollars and handed it to Johnny Joe.

  “You head for Memphis, but the first town you come to tomorrow with a doctor, you stop and explain the hunting accident and get that damn slug cut out.”

  “Will do that, sir.”

  “Okay, you two have a big supper, then get a good night’s sleep and be ready to ride out in the morning.” Sully looked at Donnelly who frowned a moment then nodded.

  It was a somber supper. Sully forgot what they ate, he was watching the men. Tomorrow he would be down to a three man force. Not much they could do with just three of them. There was little talk around the campfire as they ate. Nobody seemed like yacking away. No recounting their hit on the small town, no cheering at the way the fires leveled the buildings. They put the cooking fire out early and crawled into their blankets.

  That night before he went to sleep, Sully wondered if his own vengeance fires were burning low. Somehow today was their biggest hit on the damn Yankees. But he didn’t feel the satisfaction that he had before. The sense of pay back, of just out and out raw vengeance, didn’t seem to be as strong as it had been. Was he winding down on his mission here as well? He thought about it. He still owned his small ranch back in Memphis. He could always go back and try to beat down the ghosts of his wife and two small daughters. He could try. The land without any buildings was worth something, but he had no idea how much. The idea of starting over from nothing on his ranch was not at all appealing. He would think about it. Maybe his future lay out here farther in the west. Colorado, Wyoming, even Oklahoma. He would think about it. The whole idea was new to him. The fight today, Hirum’s death, and now two of his men heading home had been a heavy blow for him to accept. He turned over for what seemed like the hundredth time and tried to go to sleep.

  Morning cane too early for Sully. He rolled over, saw the gray clouds hanging low in the sky, and wanted to go back to sleep. But he didn’t. He saw Curley Johnson working on a cooking fire and roused himself up.

  “What’s for breakfast?” Sully asked.

  Curley looked over at him and grinned. “Yankee bacon and all the hot cakes you can get down. Oh, and coffee. Want some? It’s ready.”

  Sully came fully awake with a cup of hot coffee in his hands. Curley looked over at him and shook his head.

  “Looks like our glory days are over,” he said. “We go from six guns to three in one fell swoop. Can’t do a hell of a lot with just the three of us. Not even a good crew to rob Yankee banks.”

  “We can still do some small banks, build up our cash reserve. Far as taking down a town, we just don’t have the guns for that. We can till shoot up a small town and ride out like hell.”

  “Sounds like fun. How are your vengeance fires burning?”

  “Simmered down some. But still furious with the whole damn Yankee nation. Wish I could get at the president. Now there would be a strike I could get my heart into.”

  “I hear he’s got six levels of protection wherever he goes.”

  “Probably. I don’t even know where he is. Have to settle for a town marshal or two.”

  The others came then for breakfast. Sully noticed that both Johnny Joe and Donnelly ate seconds on the hot cakes.

  “Hey, you saddle bums. Old Johnny Joe and Donnelly are about to get out of this rat race and try and find another one. We be gone in about ten minutes.”

  “You pack up enough trail food?” Sully asked?

  “Did and took a bite out of the Henry ammo bin. Don’t want to get caught short.”

  Donnelly hardly said a word. He watched each man as if memorizing his appearance.

  Then the food was gone, and the two travelers stepped into saddles and slung full canteens on board.

  Donnelly rode over to Sully.

  “Lieutenant, we’re gone. We both decided to take along just one Henry each so we don’t look like a threat. Thanks for all the help and a chance to get some sense out of the killing. You get to my place in Memphis, you stop in.” He whirled his mount and galloped to the east.

  Johnny Joe came next and saluted. “Best be moving. You take care. Get this slug cut out fist medic I find.” He turned his mount and rode off after Donnelly.

  Sully watched them go. He turned to Curley and Carter. Anyone else heading for home?”

  “Not me,” Carter said. “Wife is at her folk’s place. The farm ain’t going nowhere. And I ain’t near burned out all of my hatred for the damn Yankees.”

  “I’m with Carter,” Curley said. “I need some more action. We heading east and a little north to find some hard-nosed Yankees?”

  “Sounds good. But we have to be damn selective what we try. Just three of us, so we take advantage of whatever we can. Night for instance. If we hit a small town at night they won’t know who or what is happening.”

  “Fires are more fun at night,” Carter said.

  “First we have to find a small town without a lot of northern troops stationed there. So let’s close down this camp and ride.”

  They did after wrapping one of their rifles in the blanket roll to cut down any hint that they might be a threat. They rode all morning cross country without finding a good looking road. Then about three o’clock they cut a well-traveled road and took it heading slightly south and east.
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  An hour later they could see a town ahead. As they got closer they figured it must have about two hundred folks in it with good farm land around it. The farm buildings looked fairly new and well cared for. Definitely Yankee territory.

  “So, what’s the plan?” Curley asked.

  “Chow call,” Sully said. “I fight better on a full belly. Curley, cook us up something good. Tomorrow we will eat in style at some good café.”

  When it got dark they rode into the place called Emeryville, according to a hand painted sign at the edge of the buildings. The business section was two blocks long. The bank was closed but about half the businesses were open. They stopped at the general store and bought a slab of bacon and two loaves of home baked bread.

  Outside they put the food in the sacks and rode on through town. At the far end, just past the livery stable, they stopped and talked

  “Not much of a town,” Carter said.

  “One bank, six saloons and two general stores,” Curley recited.

  “And a town marshal, don’t forget him,” Carter added.

  Sully laughed. “Won’t do to forget the northern lawman. But we probably won’t see him. We set the livery here on fire, then when it gets burning good, we set fire to two or three stores at the other end of town. We cap it off by racing through the street shooting up the marshal’s office and any other stores we can hit. Then it’s one hell of a hard ride out of town to the east and vanish into the countryside before anyone in town thinks to try to follow us.”

  “Like it,” Curley said. “I’m taking both of my Henry rifles out and have them ready and my two six-guns. We can make a big racket before we get out of town.”

  Ten minutes later they had tied up the night man at the livery, let loose three horses in stalls inside, and opened the corral gate in back so the mounts there could escape and run free. Then they set fire to the livery in three places and watched it get a good start. They rode around Main Street to the other end of town and slipped up on the back of three stores. They piled dead grass and dead branches against the back of the stores and set them on fire. It took a while for the flames to get a start on the siding. By that time the shouts came about fire in the livery and half the town ran that way. By the time the three stores were burning good, the livery was almost gone.