Part 28 (2/2)

If I stuck around.

He got stirred up some when I commenced to strip off his duds, so I laid the barrel across his head. After that, he didn't give me any more trouble. I shucked off my nights.h.i.+rt and the ragged sleeves I'd been wearing on my feet. Then I got into his trousers, socks, boots and s.h.i.+rt. They fit snug, but I reckoned they would have to do for now.

I buckled his belt around my waist and holstered the gun.

He was moaning some by the time I finished. I restrained myself, however, and didn't clobber him again.

I emptied out the pockets, not wanting to steal what I didn't need.

He was still stretched out on the floor when I rushed out the rear of the caboose. I jumped to the ground. The gang was near the front of the train. They all had bandannas pulled up to hide their faces, but I could tell one from the next because of their sizes and duds and such. I just caught a glimpse of Chase and McSween and Breakenridge as they climbed into the side door of a car.

Emmet, mounted, held the reins of all the horses. My friends the engineer and fireman were sprawled on the ground by the tracks, Snooker keeping them covered with his Winchester. He and Emmet were both watching the pa.s.senger cars, likely prepared to shoot at anyone who tried to interfere. They saw me coming. I waved to show I didn't mean any harm.

Between me and them were four pa.s.senger cars, most of the windows open. n.o.body seemed foolish enough to poke his head out, but I heard a lot of commotion from inside while I hurried along. There were angry voices, scared voices, a few folks crying and taking on like they figured they'd be getting themselves ma.s.sacred.

I'd gotten past three of the cars when somebody stretched an arm out a window of the one ahead of me. The hand had a revolver in it.

Snooker and Emmet were both looking the other way, trying to see what was happening in the express car.

Ran through my head to shout a warning.

Judged it wouldn't help much.

I shouted, anyhow, but didn't leave it at that. All Emmet and Snooker got time to do was glance in my direction. By then, the conductor's six-gun was already in my hand. I let fly at the pa.s.senger's arm.

This was my first try with a firearm. When it went off, it near jumped out of my grasp. Of course, I missed the target. My bullet went high and knocked a hole through the upper part of the window. But I might as well have hit the arm, for it dropped the gun and jumped back out of sight, never firing a shot.

Emmet, he gave me a curious look with his head tipped sideways. Snooker winked at me.

I hurried along and picked up the pa.s.senger's revolver. It was a Colt .45 Peacemaker, the same as the conductor's. I holstered it, and shoved the conductor's gun under my belt.

Then I hurried on and joined up with Snooker and Emmet.

”Dang!” Snooker said. ”Ain't you the one!”

”Yeah,” Emmet said. ”Thanks.” Unlike Snooker, he didn't seem too friendly.

I couldn't help but smile.

In just the course of a few minutes, I'd been shot at, I'd beaten the conductor senseless, robbed him, and fired at a pa.s.senger. All those things shook me up considerable. So did knowing I'd joined in on the side of the outlaws. But I felt mighty pleased with myself, anyhow.

”I'm delighted I was able to help,” I said. ”The conductor was kind enough to loan me his weapon.”

Snooker laughed from under his bandanna. ”Appears he loaned you a sight more than his iron.”

”He was quite generous, really.” I stepped past the two prisoners and nodded toward the express car. ”May I?”

”See what's taking so long,” Snooker said.

So I climbed aboard. Just in time to see Breakenridge fetch the strongbox a kick. He looked even bigger than I remembered him. Big and burly as a bear, but his kick didn't even shake the safe.

”Take more'n your boot,” McSween allowed.

”Well, s.h.i.+tfire s.h.i.+tfire!”

Chase had the drop on a fellow who looked scared and had a b.l.o.o.d.y hand clamped over his mouth. ”Didn't hardly recognize you, all dressed up.”

”I was forced to subdue the conductor.”

”Good for you, w.i.l.l.y!” McSween said.

”We've run into some trouble here,” Chase explained. ”The messenger, he won't open the box for us.”

”Can't,” the fellow said from behind his b.l.o.o.d.y fingers.

”That's what he claims. Says it's a through-safe, locked in Denver and can't be opened till El Paso.”

”I don't reckon he's lying,” McSween said.

”Hey!” Breakenridge called from somewhere in the dark near the front of the car. ”Here's the ticket.” He came back with an ax. ”Stand clear, buddies!”

We gave him some room. He hefted the ax over his shoulder and swung it down. It chopped against the safe with a terrible clamor, and bounced off. The door stayed shut. The blow did little more than leave a scratch on the box's steel top. He had another go, with the same result.

”Too bad it ain't made out of logs,” McSween said.

Breakenridge paid no attention, but gave the box about ten more licks. He might've kept at it all day, but the ax handle finally broke. The head flew up and whistled past Chase's face.

”Lord sakes!” Chase blurted.

”We ain't getting into it,” McSween said.

Breakenridge gave it another taste of his boot, then flung the ax handle off into the darkness.

”We might take the safe with us,” I suggested. ”Given enough time, we should be able to...”

”Tried that once,” Chase said.

”Let's just see what we can get off the pa.s.sengers,” McSween said. ”Better than going off empty-handed.”

Chase jabbed his gun into the express messenger's chest. ”You stay here. Poke your head out, and we'll oblige you by blowing a hole through it.”

”Yes, sir,” he said between his fingers.

We all climbed down. Breakenridge, who was winded and sweaty from his labors with the ax, slid the door shut.

Chase explained the situation to Snooker and Emmet.

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