Death Waits at Sundown Read Online Free

Stew, impatiently. “We ain’t got all day.”
    Lynn mounted up, shedding the
rope. The cavalcade headed for the front of the stable.
    â€œDon’t try nothin’ fancy,” warned Stew. “Just ride east
like nothin’ was wrong. If you make a break, we’ll find plenty of reason to plug you. Get goin’, Texas.”
    They went into the brilliant sunlight of the street and
in the press of horsemen who still continued to come into town, the three riders
following close on the heels of one were scarcely noticed.
    At a trot, Lynn headed for the open country, his three
guardians staying close to him.
    â€œYou mind tellin’ me where we’re goin’?” said Lynn, over his shoulder.
    â€œTo Fanner’s ranch, if you got to know. An’ we don’t
like missin’ the hangin’ any more than you do.”
    For five miles, Lynn proceeded with a great docility
which gradually lulled the watchfulness of his captors. They were going through
a heavily wooded pass which led to a plain beyond and it was necessary to duck
to avoid being brushed out of the saddle by pine boughs.
    They were in single file now, Lynn still ahead for the
reason that the men disliked riding with their backs to him. They rounded a
bend in the thickly shrouded trail and for a brief instant, Lynn was masked
from the rest. And in that instant he did two things. He dug spur to the
buckskin and grabbed a bough over his head, swinging up, sent by the surge of
his mount.
    With a startled snort, Glitter charged away. The sound
was enough to send three sets of spurs driving home. Heads down to miss the
swinging bough, the trio dashed ahead.
    Stew was the last in line. A bomb dropped on him,
knocking him out of the saddle. A hand crushing against his mouth stifled any
sound he might have uttered. His mount raced on, still furnishing hoofbeats to
assure the others.
    Lynn was up first. He yanked
Stew to his feet and slammed him down again with a solid blow to the jaw. Stew
grunted and twisted into a ball and then lay still.
    With a quick movement Lynn retrieved his guns out of
Stew’s belt and holstered them.
    Ahead the others broke into the open and were astounded
to see that they pursued a riderless horse. They looked back to find a
riderless mount behind them and with a yell they pivoted and charged again into
the woods.
    Lynn stood in the center of the
trail. The first saw him and drew. The second pulled up and chopped down. Four
shots sounded almost as one. And smoke rolled from the muzzles of Lynn’s guns.
    He holstered them quietly and placed his fingers in his
mouth to whistle. Glitter came in a moment, stepping gingerly around the two
things on the trail and giving the nervous, masterless mounts a disdainful
glance.
    Lynn glanced at the sun. The
shadows were very long and he had five miles to go.
    Swinging up, he dug spur, and with Glitter’s hoofs
kettledrumming a mad staccato, raced through the hills toward Pioneer.

Chapter Four
    M cCLOUD had appointed himself hangman, being less squeamish in such
matters than other men. He was well aware that he made a fine showing there on
the gallows platform with all the country gathered in the street and square
about it.
    From the jail came a tight group of vigilantes, forming
a square around the prisoner. The crowd gave way. Here and there somebody
jeered, but the jeers lessened into undertone expressions of wonder. The
prisoner was not at all downcast. Though he had a hard, Texas way about him at
all times, Frank Taylor was bright of eye and he unceasingly looked at the
people he passed as though a word of greeting was ready on his lips. He was
completely detached from his role of a doomed man. The attitude was variously
interpreted as nerve and callousness but McCloud, with an inward grin, was
confidently in possession of Frank’s hope and its disaster.
    Solemnly the guards marched their captive up the
thirteen steps and each step the