Dead Before Sundown

“You have bills of sale or any other sort of proof the animals belong to you?”

“As a matter of fact,” Frank said, “we do. We bought them in a place called Powderkeg Bay, on the other side of the mountains.”

“I’ve heard of it. Never been there.”

“I’ll see if I can find those papers,” Frank said.

Frank had the bills of sale from Parkhurst’s Livery in his saddlebags, which he had slung over his shoulder along with the pack of supplies. Actually, a couple of these horses hadn’t come from there, but the descriptions on the papers were vague enough that McKendrick didn’t notice the discrepancy. Anyway, Frank thought, three horses were three horses, under sore-footed circumstances like these.

“Very well,” the sergeant said as he handed the bills of sale back to Frank. “Everything you’ve told me seems reasonable enough to accept, Mr. Morgan, although it does take a bit of imagination. Do you have any idea what the Metis plan to do with those Gatling guns?”

Frank shook his head. “No, but they’ve been responsible for two armed rebellions against the Canadian government. I have a hunch that whatever their plan is, it won’t be anything good.”

“Indeed,” McKendrick said. “My men and I will proceed with all due haste to Calgary, so I can wire my superiors with this news. You and your companions will accompany us.”

“That was what I figured on doing,” Frank said.

A hint of an icy smile appeared on McKendrick’s lips. “You don’t understand. You have no choice in the matter. For the time being you may consider yourselves under arrest.”

“Arrest!” Salty yelped in surprise. “What in tarnation are you arrestin’ us for, you … you danged redcoat!”

“You’re being held for questioning as suspicious characters,” McKendrick said.

“That don’t sound like no real charge to me!”

Frank said, “Take it easy, Salty.” To McKendrick, he went on, “We’re coming with you anyway, Sergeant. What’s the point in placing us under arrest?”

“It gives me the authority to demand that you surrender your weapons.” McKendrick carried a revolver in a holster with a flap over the butt of the gun. He rested his hand on that flap now.

Frank could have drawn his own Colt half a dozen times or more in the time it would take McKendrick to unfasten that flap and haul out the holstered revolver. Outnumbered four to one, though, he didn’t want to get in a shooting scrape with the Mounties.

It wasn’t just a matter of the odds, either. Sergeant McKendrick might be a stiff-necked, overly suspicious son of a gun, but he was just doing his job the best way he knew how. Wrong or not, he didn’t deserve a bullet for that.

“All right, Sergeant,” Frank said. “We want to go to Calgary anyway, so we’ll cooperate … for now. Don’t get spooked. I’m going to hand you my gun.”

“Carefully,” McKendrick advised.

Frank reached over with his left hand to slide the Colt from leather and surrender it to the Mountie. Salty grumbled about giving up his gun, but he did it.

That just left Reb. McKendrick turned toward him and said, “You, too, Mr. Russell. Hand over your weapon.”

Reb looked torn. Suddenly, he stepped back, and his hand flashed to his holster with blinding speed. He drew the ivory-handled gun before any of the Mounties could hope to stop him and trained the weapon on McKendrick.

“Hold it right there, Sergeant,” Reb said. “I don’t want to shoot you, but I will if I have to. You’re not gettin’ my gun.”

Chapter 30

“Reb, what in blazes are you doing?” Frank demanded. He glanced at the Mounties. Several of them had raised their rifles and pointed them at the young man. They might have opened fire if Sergeant McKendrick hadn’t lifted a hand to stop them.

“Hold on there, lads,” McKendrick said. “No shooting unless we absolutely have to.” He glared at Reb. “What’s the meaning of this, Mr. Russell?”

“The meanin’ is that I ain’t handin’ over my gun to you,” Reb drawled. “I haven’t done anything wrong. You can’t arrest me, either.”

Again that frosty smile touched McKendrick’s lips. “I beg to differ with you, sir. I can arrest anyone I please.”

The gun in Reb’s hand didn’t waver as he said, “Well, I reckon you can try to arrest me … but you’re liable to be in mighty hot water with your bosses if you do.”

“Oh? Why, pray tell?”

“Because they’ll be in hot water with the U.S. government. The Canadian government knows I’m here.”

Quietly, Frank said, “Reb, I think you’ve got some explaining to do.”

“Yeah,” Salty added indignantly.

Reb smiled but didn’t lower his gun. “I’m gonna reach in my pocket,” he said. “Sergeant, tell your boys not to get itchy trigger fingers.”