didn’t let that dislodge his grip. He clung to Wolfram’s back like a tick.
Suddenly, he felt Wolfram’s muscles go limp. Either the man had lost consciousness, or he was trying to trick The Kid into relaxing that death grip. The Kid wasn’t going to be fooled. The muscles of his arms and shoulders bunched. One more good heave would break the bastard’s neck—
A shot crashed like thunder. The Kid’s head jerked up. He saw that Malone had dismounted and now loomed over him, blotting out the sun as he aimed one of those pearl-handled revolvers at The Kid’s head. Smoke curled from the barrel as a result of the warning shot Malone had fired.
“Let him go,” Malone said. “You’re gonna kill him. Let him go, Morgan.”
“He would’ve . . . killed me . . . if he could,” The Kid said between clenched teeth.
“I reckon that’s right, but I’ve got the gun, and I’m tellin’ you to let him go. We been partners too long for me to let you just snap his neck like that.”
“You’ll keep your word and let me and Miss Star-bird go on to Bristol?”
“Aye, go and be damned to you!”
The reluctance with which Malone uttered the words convinced The Kid that he was telling the truth. The Kid eased his grip on Wolfram’s throat, then released it entirely. The man’s head slumped forward into the dirt. He was out cold, all right, not shamming. But he was still alive. The Kid heard the ragged rasp of breath in Wolfram’s throat.
With an effort, The Kid kept his muscles from trembling as he climbed to his feet. He didn’t want Malone to see how shaky he felt at this moment. Instead he reached out to Diana as she came closer to him, took the gunbelt from her, and buckled it around his hips. The weight of the holstered Colt felt good to him.
“For your own benefit, you ought to keep movin’ instead of stoppin’ in Bristol,” Malone went on. “There’s no place in this valley that’ll be safe for you after today.”
“Then if I see you or any of your men again, I might as well go ahead and shoot on sight, is that what you’re telling me?” The Kid asked.
Malone’s lips twisted in a snarl, but he didn’t say anything else. He slid his gun back into its holster, then bent to grasp one of Wolfram’s arms. Without being told to, a couple of the hardcases dismounted and hurried over to help their boss hoist Wolfram’s senseless form back onto his feet. Wolfram began to come to, shaking his head groggily.
The Kid took his hat from Diana and put it on, then picked up his coat, folded it, and stuck it in his saddlebags. The sun was too hot for the garment.
He asked in a low voice, “Where’s your horse?”
She inclined her head toward the boulders where she must have been hidden as she watched him kick the skull out of the trail. He figured he hadn’t heard her ride up because the echoes of his shot had been rolling away over the hills at the time.
“Go get it,” he told her.
“Not yet,” she replied. “Not until they’re gone.”
He understood what she meant. She believed that Malone would be less likely to break his word and try to gun The Kid down as long as she was close by.
She was probably right about that, too. He stood there holding the buckskin’s reins in his left hand and kept his right close to his gun while Malone and his men helped Wolfram climb onto his horse. Greavy kept a close eye on The Kid while that was going on. The Kid had a feeling that Greavy sensed the presence of another fast gun. He saw the appraisal and the challenge in the little man’s eyes. Greavy was trying to figure out if he could take The Kid.
Once Wolfram was mounted again, Malone swung up into his own saddle and motioned for his men to follow suit. They turned their horses around and started jogging away, following the trail that led through the valley. They rounded a bend and rode out of sight.
“Do you think they’ll try to find a place to pull an ambush?” The Kid asked.
Diana shook her head. “Not now. Black Terence keeps his word . . . most of the time.”
The Kid glanced over at her and lifted an eyebrow.
Diana waved a hand and said, “I’ll explain on the way to Diamondback.”
“Diamondback?”
“The ranch my uncle and I own.”
“I was headed for Bristol, remember?”
Diana shook her head. “Not anymore. It won’t be safe for you. I’m pretty sure Malone has spies working for him in town. Anyway, there are a lot of alleys where bushwhackers could hide.”
“You don’t owe me anything, if that’s what you’re thinking,” The Kid told her.
Diana let out a snort. “Me owe you anything? It’s the other way around, Mr. Morgan. If I hadn’t been here, Malone and his men would have killed you. And it was your shot that drew them in the first place. When you saw the skull and crossbones, why didn’t you just turn around and ride away? Don’t you know what they mean?” She drew in a deep breath. “They mean death.”
The Kid wasn’t in any mood to argue with her. “I’ve seen plenty of it,” he said. “Let’s get your horse.”
“You’ll come to the ranch with me?”
The Kid shrugged. “Why not? The main thing I wanted was a chance to rest my buckskin. I reckon I can do that at your place as well as I can in town.”
“Better,” Diana said. “Our hands will take good care of your horse.”
