It also appeared to The Kid that most of the inhabitants of the southern side of town had retreated north of the well. They didn’t trust the Rurales. The federal police had a reputation for ruthlessness and brutality.
The Kid felt the hot breath of a bullet as it hummed past his ear. It was impossible to shoot a gun with any degree of accuracy from the back of a galloping horse, but a lucky hit was always possible.
The dun’s sides heaved as he thundered on, running the race of his life. The southernmost buildings of the settlement flashed past. Another few seconds and The Kid would reach the border.
The dun collapsed from exhaustion, tumbling to the ground in a wild confusion of flailing legs. The Kid kicked his feet free of the stirrups just in time so he wasn’t crushed.
He found himself sailing through the air, crashing down a second later with stunning force.
The hard landing knocked the breath out of him and left him gasping for air as he rolled over a couple times and came to a stop on his belly. He lifted his head and saw the riders bearing down on him, close enough to recognize Guzman. The Rurale commander had led the pursuit himself, as The Kid expected he might. Riding next to Guzman was Enrique Kelly, with the other scalp hunters close behind.
There was nothing like having several dozen killers thundering toward him for clearing a man’s mind. The Kid surged to his feet and slapped leather. His Colt had stayed in its holster when he fell, and it came out roaring and spitting fire and lead.
He ran for the well—the closest cover. Slugs whined around his head and kicked up dust at his feet. The water trough loomed in front of him. He went up and over it in a dive, carrying him across the border and back into the United States.
That wasn’t stopping Guzman and the others. Bullets flew across the border, drawing frightened screams and angry shouts from the citizens of Sago as they scattered and hunted cover. Some of the men who were armed began returning the fire from the Rurales.
The Kid had thought Guzman would stop short of creating an international incident, but obviously he’d been wrong. The crash and boom of guns rose and filled the air above the settlement as the townspeople fought back against the Rurales.
That broke the back of the charge, but Guzman and a few of his men, along with the scalp hunters, kept coming. The Kid finished thumbing fresh cartridges into his Colt and rose up behind the water trough. The revolver roared and bucked in his hand.
Above the chaos of battle, he heard the sudden, shrill sound of a bugle. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the cavalry galloping into town from the north. The Kid was surprised that Lt. Nicholson and his patrol were still there, but he was glad to see them. He ducked behind the water trough again as competing storms of lead scythed through the air above him.
Several riders galloped past the well. The Kid twisted around and saw Kelly, Chess, and Valdez, along with Captain Guzman. The guns in their hands tracked toward him. He sat up with his back against the water trough and fired. His bullet drove into Kelly’s chest and made the leader of the scalp hunters rock back in the saddle. Kelly got off a shot anyway. The slug smacked into the water trough just inches from The Kid’s left shoulder. The Kid triggered again, and Kelly went down, toppling from the back of his horse to land with a puff of dust in the street.
The sharp crack of a rifle, again and again, made The Kid glance to his right. Jess Ritter had emerged from one of the buildings, still dressed in the Rurale uniform, and the Winchester she carried spouted flame as she levered off round after round. Chess doubled over as at least one bullet ripped through his body. Valdez threw his hands in the air and slid out of his saddle.
Guzman charged The Kid on horseback. The captain’s revolver was empty, so he threw it aside and ripped a saber from its scabbard at his waist. He slashed down with the blade. The Kid threw himself aside to avoid the razor-sharp edge. Guzman crowded after him, leaning over in the saddle and hacking with the saber even as his horse almost trampled The Kid.
Jess couldn’t help him now, The Kid thought. With Guzman looming over him so close like that, she couldn’t risk a shot. He twisted away from another slash of the saber and leaped up. His gun was empty, too, so he dropped it and used both hands to grab Guzman’s arm. The Rurales commander shouted in surprise and rage as The Kid dragged him off the horse.
Both men sprawled in the street. Guzman jabbed the saber’s point toward The Kid, who ducked under it and caught hold of his wrist. With his other hand, The Kid smashed a punch into Guzman’s face. Guzman shook it off and kept trying to turn the blade toward The Kid. As The Kid’s grip slipped for a second, the saber swung free.
The Kid closed his hand around the blade and felt its edge slice into his palm. He yelled in pain but didn’t let go. Heaving himself up so he would have the advantage of his weight, he twisted the saber at Guzman. The captain’s eyes had just enough time to widen in shock before The Kid drove the blade so deeply into his throat that it grated on bone. Blood fountained in the air from severed veins as Guzman writhed and kicked away the remaining few seconds of his life.
Then his body sagged back on the ground, limp in death.
Panting, pulse hammering wildly in his head, The Kid crouched for a second over the Rurales captain before he realized the shooting had stopped. He looked up to see that he was surrounded by blue-uniformed cavalry troopers. Lt. Nicholson was among them. The lieutenant raised the revolver in his hand, and pointed it at The Kid. “Mr. Morgan, you’re under arrest.”
Chapter 31
Before The Kid could respond to that, Jess elbowed her way through the ring of troopers and forced herself between Nicholson and The Kid. “Are you insane? You can’t arrest him! He saved us! He went into Mexico and rescued us from those ... those monsters!”
“Exactly, ma ’ am , ” Nicholson said. “Mr. Morgan crossed the border without proper authorization—”
The cavalrymen began to step back and come to attention as another officer strode up. He was a short, wiry man with a salt-and-pepper beard.
“Lieutenant,” the newcomer said sharply, “we’ve talked about this!”
Nicholson holstered his pistol and stood stiffly at attention. “Yes, sir”—his eyes were straight ahead—“but it still seems to me—”
“I don’t care how it seems to you, son,” the other officer said, then turned and extended a hand to The Kid. “Let me help you up, Morgan.”
The Kid clasped the man’s hand and got to his feet. With a nod, he said, “I’m obliged to you, sir.”
“Colonel Stilwell,” the officer introduced himself. “I rode in with a patrol of my own a couple of days ago and found the lieutenant waiting here in case you came back from your little jaunt south of the border. When he told me who you were and that you were trying to save some kidnapped American women, I figured if anybody could bring them back, it’d be you. So I decided to wait a little while, just in case.” Stilwell chuckled. “I didn’t expect you to bring a bunch of Rurales back with you, too.”
“There’s going to be trouble over this, sir,” Nicholson warned. “We engaged Mexican troops without authorization—”
“By my order, Lieutenant,” Stilwell snapped. “My authorization. I’ll take the responsibility, and by God, after forty years of fighting Indians and outlaws out here on this frontier, if anybody tells me I’m not allowed to defend American soil from a foreign invasion, I’ll retire, blast it!”
“The Rurales didn’t actually cross the border—”
“That one did.” He pointed at Guzman’s body. “And the others fired over the border and endangered American citizens.”
Edwin Sago stepped up. “I’ll testify to that, Colonel, if I need to.”
Nicholson sighed and shook his head. “Very well, sir. But it’s all highly irregular.”
“When you’ve been out here for a while, son, you may see things differently. Irregular is the order of the day on the frontier.” Stilwell took a cheroot out of his jacket pocket and put it in his mouth unlit as he turned to The Kid. “Now, Morgan, I’ll bet you could use a drink and something to eat.”
“Yes, sir, I could,” The Kid agreed. Jess was beside him, smiling. He slipped an arm around her, partly out of
