Matt lashed Shade’s feet together under the horse’s belly. Sam tied the outlaw’s wrists to the saddle horn, then cinched another rope tight between Shade’s elbows and tied that to the saddle horn as well. Shade couldn’t possibly fall off the horse now, even while he was out cold. He was forced to lean forward over the horse’s neck, too, so that he would make a smaller target if bullets started to fly.
The racket in the street was louder now as Matt and Sam stepped back from their work. “He’s not goin’ anywhere,” Matt said. “At least, not without that horse.”
A shout came from outside. “Bodine! Matt Bodine! You hear me?”
Matt didn’t answer. He hurried to the horses and tied Sam’s mount, along with a couple of others, to the back of the wagon while Sam was climbing onto the driver’s seat. The mules were already hitched up, so all he had to do was turn the team and the wagon around. He did that while Thorpe and Everett blew out the lanterns and hurried to their own horses.
“Bodine, if you and your friends let the prisoner go, we won’t kill you!” the man who had shouted before called from the street. “We don’t want any bloodshed!”
“That’s a damn lie,” Matt said quietly to Sam as he brought his horse alongside the wagon. “The way they’re likkered up, somebody’s bound to let off a shot, and that’s all it’ll take.”
Sam nodded. “Yes, it would be quite a bloodbath—if it went the way they think it’s going to.”
Everett held the reins of Shade’s horse while Thorpe went over to the double doors. “This is Deputy U.S. Marshal Asa Thorpe!” he yelled. “Hold your fire! We’re coming out!”
There was a moment of surprised silence from the mob, and then the spokesman called, “All right, Marshal, come on out! There won’t be no shootin’!”
Barely visible in the gloom, Thorpe nodded to Matt and Sam. Then he flung the bar up, unfastening the doors. Sam cried out and slashed the mules across their rumps, driving them forward. Thorpe whirled his horse and dashed back along the barn’s center aisle, joining Everett and Shade in the deep shadows at the rear.
Matt crashed out first, Winchester in hand. Yelling, he fired over the heads of the startled crowd. Men shouted in alarm and leaped aside to keep from being run down as the mules burst out of the barn with the wagon right behind them.
Sam swung the wagon in a sharp turn toward the railroad station. The horses tied on at the back had to gallop along with the vehicle, and they caused members of the mob to scramble out of the way to avoid being trampled, too.
Matt was still firing as he crouched in his saddle and broke a path through the crowd for the wagon. He aimed high, though. As far as he was concerned, the men who had been about to storm the livery barn were sorry sons of bitches for trying to free Shade, but maybe they didn’t deserve to die for it.
If any of them got in the way of a stray bullet or a charging horse or mule, though, he wasn’t going to lose any sleep over it. Most of them would get off luckier than they deserved.
“Stop them!” somebody yelled. “Stop that wagon!”
More guns began to roar. Powder smoke spurted from gun muzzles, stinging noses and blinding eyes.
Matt and Sam were counting on that, along with the darkness and confusion, to keep the mob from noticing that Thorpe and Everett weren’t with them. If everything went according to plan, the drunken, greedy cowboys would think that all four of them were getting away, along with Shade. The extra horses tied to the wagon would contribute to that illusion, too.
As Matt pounded down the street at a hard gallop, he glanced to his left and saw the town’s lone hotel looming there. Someone stood at the front window, peering out with a wide-eyed, worried expression, and Matt felt a second of recognition as he realized the watcher was Jessica Devlin.
There was no time to acknowledge her, though. Matt flashed on past the hotel with the wagon careening behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, saw that Sam was staying low on the driver’s seat.
Colt flame bloomed from the scattered mob, until a man yelled, “Stop shootin’! Stop shootin’! Shade’s worth a thousand dollars
Someone else shouted, “Get your horses! Let’s get after ’em!”
Matt wasn’t too worried about pursuit, though. All he and Sam had to do was stay in front of anyone who came after them for a couple of miles. Then they could abandon the empty wagon and ride off into the night. Thorpe and Everett would have a big enough lead then that they could reach the water stop west of town before anyone figured out what was going on. Even when the cowboys found the empty wagon, if they did, they wouldn’t know where Shade had gone.
Of course, somebody might figure it out if they talked to the railroad clerk and found out that Matt had been asking about stops west of Pancake Flats…but again, by that time, Matt hoped they would be on the train rolling toward Yuma.
It was a shame, though, he thought as they raced on into the darkness, that he would never see Jessica Devlin again.
He would have liked to find out just what it was that was troubling that pretty young woman.
At the moment, of course, he had his hands full just staying alive…
Chapter 32
Guns were still going off behind them as they left Pancake Flats behind. Matt figured several of the cowboys had been able to grab their horses and give chase fairly quickly.
To discourage them, he reined in and wheeled his horse around while Sam kept the mules racing eastward. He lifted his Winchester and sprayed an arc of bullets across their back trail, still aiming high. He hoped the muzzle flashes from the rifle would be enough to make the pursuers think twice about chasing them.
Then he whirled his mount and pounded after the wagon. He caught up to it a few moments later, and gave
