Ambush at Shadow Valley Read Online Free
these men you always watch out for a trick.ââ
ââBut what good would a trick do him when he is going to die?ââ Hector asked.
ââMen like Hirsh donât stop until theyâre dead, Hector,ââ Sam said, seeing that the young man had no lack of courage, but seemed to have no savvy about men like Dick Hirsh. ââThe prospect of taking a couple more lives might be all thatâs keeping him hanging on.ââ
ââThen he is not a man at all, but a devil,ââ said Hector. He stopped himself from instinctively making a sign of the cross on his chest. ââAll of his kind must be stopped.ââ
ââNow youâre talking,ââ Sam said wryly. ââKeep everybody back while I get inside.ââ Without another word on the matter, Sam moved away in a crouch, following the circular stone wall around the well until he reached the point closest to the front of the cantina.
Hector watched him run to the cantinaâs front and press his back against the adobe wall beside the doorway. Using the shotgun barrel, Sam reached out, shoved the blanket to the side, peeped in, then slipped inside the cantina. As soon as he stepped inside, he stopped and looked over at Dick Hirsh lying sprawled on the dirt floor twenty feet away. On the side of Hirshâs head he saw fresh blood.
Dead . . . ? He didnât think so. He saw no spray of blood and brain matter along the floor or on the wall, but he did quickly take note that Hirsh still gripped a cocked Colt. Quietly, Sam said, "Hirsh, when you make your move with that pistol, Iâm giving you both barrels.ââ
In the dirt, Hirshâs gun hand opened slowly, dropped the Colt and moved away from it. ââDamn it, Ranger . . . all right,ââ he growled, his voice sounding weak but still defiant.
His shotgun poised ready, Sam stepped closer, not convinced that was the only trick the wounded gunman had up his sleeve. ââWhich way are they headed, Hirsh?ââ he asked, looking all around the abandoned cantina, and seeing only a broken chair and an overturned table.
ââIâllâIâll tell you, Ranger,ââ the wounded outlaw said haltingly, his hand going to his real wound, the gaping bullet hole in his chest. ââCome over here . . . soâs I donât have to holler.ââ
Here it comes, another trick, Sam told himself. But he stepped forward all the same. Behind him he heard Hector say from the doorway, ââIâm coming in, Ranger. I told the men to stay back out of theâââ
ââNo, wait, Hector,ââ the ranger warned, seeing the overturned table roll sideways a foot as one of the escaped convicts sprang up from behind it.
On the floor Hirsh grabbed his Colt as the rangerâs shotgun exploded at the rushing convict, picking the gunman up from behind the overturned table and flinging him backward. But he knew he didnât have time to swing the shotgun back around toward Hirsh before Hirsh pulled the trigger.
But it didnât matter. Hector reacted quickly, seeing Hirsh grab the pistol. Before the wounded outlaw could get a shot off, the Winchester bucked in Hectorâs hands and sent a round into Hirshâs shoulder, causing the Colt to fly from his grip.
ââDamn it!ââ Hirsh moaned. ââIâm shot again . . . shot twice by my own gun!ââ His voice, though still weak, sounded stronger than it had moments earlier.
ââI will make it three times,ââ Hector said, levering another round into the rifle chamber.
ââNo, hold your fire,ââ Sam said, raising a gloved hand toward Hector to stop him from firing again. Stepping forward with his smoking shotgun aimed at Dick Hirsh, Sam said, ââHirsh, thereâre men waiting out there wanting to string you up.
ââBut what good would a trick do him when he is going to die?ââ Hector asked.
ââMen like Hirsh donât stop until theyâre dead, Hector,ââ Sam said, seeing that the young man had no lack of courage, but seemed to have no savvy about men like Dick Hirsh. ââThe prospect of taking a couple more lives might be all thatâs keeping him hanging on.ââ
ââThen he is not a man at all, but a devil,ââ said Hector. He stopped himself from instinctively making a sign of the cross on his chest. ââAll of his kind must be stopped.ââ
ââNow youâre talking,ââ Sam said wryly. ââKeep everybody back while I get inside.ââ Without another word on the matter, Sam moved away in a crouch, following the circular stone wall around the well until he reached the point closest to the front of the cantina.
Hector watched him run to the cantinaâs front and press his back against the adobe wall beside the doorway. Using the shotgun barrel, Sam reached out, shoved the blanket to the side, peeped in, then slipped inside the cantina. As soon as he stepped inside, he stopped and looked over at Dick Hirsh lying sprawled on the dirt floor twenty feet away. On the side of Hirshâs head he saw fresh blood.
Dead . . . ? He didnât think so. He saw no spray of blood and brain matter along the floor or on the wall, but he did quickly take note that Hirsh still gripped a cocked Colt. Quietly, Sam said, "Hirsh, when you make your move with that pistol, Iâm giving you both barrels.ââ
In the dirt, Hirshâs gun hand opened slowly, dropped the Colt and moved away from it. ââDamn it, Ranger . . . all right,ââ he growled, his voice sounding weak but still defiant.
His shotgun poised ready, Sam stepped closer, not convinced that was the only trick the wounded gunman had up his sleeve. ââWhich way are they headed, Hirsh?ââ he asked, looking all around the abandoned cantina, and seeing only a broken chair and an overturned table.
ââIâllâIâll tell you, Ranger,ââ the wounded outlaw said haltingly, his hand going to his real wound, the gaping bullet hole in his chest. ââCome over here . . . soâs I donât have to holler.ââ
Here it comes, another trick, Sam told himself. But he stepped forward all the same. Behind him he heard Hector say from the doorway, ââIâm coming in, Ranger. I told the men to stay back out of theâââ
ââNo, wait, Hector,ââ the ranger warned, seeing the overturned table roll sideways a foot as one of the escaped convicts sprang up from behind it.
On the floor Hirsh grabbed his Colt as the rangerâs shotgun exploded at the rushing convict, picking the gunman up from behind the overturned table and flinging him backward. But he knew he didnât have time to swing the shotgun back around toward Hirsh before Hirsh pulled the trigger.
But it didnât matter. Hector reacted quickly, seeing Hirsh grab the pistol. Before the wounded outlaw could get a shot off, the Winchester bucked in Hectorâs hands and sent a round into Hirshâs shoulder, causing the Colt to fly from his grip.
ââDamn it!ââ Hirsh moaned. ââIâm shot again . . . shot twice by my own gun!ââ His voice, though still weak, sounded stronger than it had moments earlier.
ââI will make it three times,ââ Hector said, levering another round into the rifle chamber.
ââNo, hold your fire,ââ Sam said, raising a gloved hand toward Hector to stop him from firing again. Stepping forward with his smoking shotgun aimed at Dick Hirsh, Sam said, ââHirsh, thereâre men waiting out there wanting to string you up.
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