“You are the man I’m robbin’,” the gunman replied. He brought his pistol down sharply over Bixby’s head. Bixby groaned and fell back against the coach, though he didn’t fall down.
“Jay!” Cynthia cried out in alarm.
“Anybody else?” the gunman challenged. “Maybe you folks didn’t hear me when I said everyone get out of the coach.”
Another gunman came around to join the first. He was also wearing a mask.
“Philbin’s dead,” the second gunman said. “The shotgun guard killed him.”
“We get the money pouch?”
“We’ll clean these folks out first,” the second gunman said. He took off his hat. “Folks, what I want you to do is pretend you are in church and the plate is being passed. I want you to put all your money and valuables in this here hat. If you try and hold out on me, I’ll shoot you. We’ll start with you, mister,” he said to Bixby, who, though streaks of blood were sliding down from the wound on top of his head, had managed to stay on his feet.
Bixby took out his wallet and put it in the hat.
“Your pocket watch, too.”
Grumbling, Bixby disconnected his watch from his vest and dropped that in the hat as well.
“Hurry up down there!” someone called from the top of a large rock. Glancing up, Matt saw two masked men standing up there, looking down at the proceedings.
“We’re hurryin’, we’re hurryin’,” the gunman with the hat said.
“That bauble you’re wearin’ around your neck looks real pretty there,” the robber said to Cynthia. “But it’s goin’ to look even prettier in my hat.” He giggled at his own joke.
When he got to Hendel, Hendel dropped in his own wallet and watch without complaint.
“You folks are doin’ just real fine,” the robber said. He stopped in front of Matt, but Matt had nothing in his hand.
“How come you are standin’ here empty-handed?” the robber said. “What have you got to give me?”
“Just a bullet in the stomach if you don’t give these folks their money back and ride away from here,” Matt said.
“Ha! Hey, Oliver, did you hear what this fella just said?”
“Just shoot him and be done with it,” Oliver said.
“Yeah, I reckon that’s best,” Cantrell said. He cocked his pistol.
What happened next happened so fast that it surprised everyone, robbers and passengers both. Even though both robbers were holding pistols pointed in the general direction of the coach passengers, Matt drew and fired so quickly that both were dead before either realized they were in danger.
Looking up to where the other two men were standing, Matt raised his pistol, but both dropped down out of sight on the other side of the rock. Matt climbed the rock and looked for them, but by the time he reached the top of the rock, they were already too far away for a good shot.
Putting his gun away, Matt climbed back down to the stage. Bixby, Cynthia, Hendel, and the other two passengers were gathered around the bodies of the two men he had shot. The body of the robber the guard had shot was lying on the road in front of the coach.
The guard was also dead, slumped over the edge of the seat with his arm hanging down. His shotgun was lying on the ground alongside the left front wheel, the stock of the gun red with his blood.
The driver was also slumped forward.
“How bad are you hit?” Matt called up to the driver.
“I don’t rightly know,” the driver answered, his voice racked with pain. “All I know is it hurts like hell.”
Matt climbed up on the wheel to take a look. The driver was holding his hand over his side. Matt moved the driver’s hand to one side, then breathed a sigh of relief.
“It looks like it cut a pretty good crease, but it didn’t poke a hole in you,” Matt said. He looked at the seat just behind the driver and saw a bullet buried in the front of the coach. Taking out a pocket knife, he pried out the bullet. “And it didn’t stay in you,” he said, holding the bullet out for the driver’s inspection.
“Damn,” the driver said. “That’s as close as I ever want to come to getting’ shot dead.” The driver looked over at the shotgun guard. “Poor Pinkie. He wasn’t as lucky.”
“The robbers are gone. Do you feel up to driving?”
“Yeah, I reckon so,” the driver said.
“We need to get you patched up first,” Matt said.
“You know somethin’ about doctorin’, do you?” the driver asked.
“I’ve patched a few bullet holes in my day,” Matt replied. “A couple of them on myself. I wonder if you are carrying anything we can use as a bandage.”
Cynthia, who was tending to the wound on Bixby’s head, looked up toward Matt when she heard him say he needed something for a bandage. “I can give you something to use as a bandage,” she called up to him.
“What have you got that you could possibly give him?” Bixby asked.
“Just watch,” Cynthia replied.
Reaching up under the hem of her skirt, she began to wriggle around a bit.
