by
S.
"Say,
Boston, do ya s'pose Murdoch would mind if we use some of this money for
some cold beer and hot women?"
The
blond Lancer smiled at Johnny. "Did you spend all your wages again, Brother?"
"Well,
Susanna needed a new bonnet."
"So
you bought it for her?"
"She
looked right pretty in it."
"Johnny,
you have a heart of mush when it comes to a pretty face."
"Shh!
I don't want anybody to know Johnny Madrid's soft."
"All
right, let's get this money deposited , and then I'll buy you a beer!"
Clapping
Scott on the back, the brunet remarked, " I knew I could count on you,
Brother."
"But
that's it--no hot women!"
"How
about a luke-warm one?" Both men burst into a fit of laughter.
Two
little old ladies in the bank line ahead of them gave the two scruffy-looking
cowhands disapproving glances. Since the brothers had been on the road
for days and had had little chance to bathe or even clean up, it was natural
that these fine ladies would look askance at their behavior.
"This
is the slowest line in creation."
"You
said a mouthful, Boston. . . Tell me again why we're putting the money
in this bank instead of the one at Spanish Wells."
"Because
Murdoch plans to do some business around here and he wanted the bank manager
to get to know the Lancer account."
"Well,
I'd say $1,000.00 should make 'im real friendly."
"Johnny,"
the blond hissed, "be quiet."
"Boston,
you're just bein' silly. Ain't no reason ta fear in this bank."
The
words had no more than been uttered when a slimy man who had been standing
in the corner took out a six-shooter and yelled, "Raise 'em high!"
Johnny
Lancer started to draw only to find himself conked on the head by another
seemingly innocent bank patron. The gunfighter, dazed but not unconscious,
found himself the object of attention of four guns.
"Easy,
Johnny."
"Boston,
what...."
"So
Madrid, you really do have a hard head."
The
brunet looked up to see a tall man with a moustache and sandy hair.
"Do
I know you?"
"Not
really but I know who you are. Everybody's heard of Johnny Madrid."
One
of the other gunmen moved over to the sandy-haired man. "Let me kill 'im.
I owe him for what he did ta me in Sonora."
Johnny's
eyes narrowed. "Now, you I know--didn't ya try to bushwhack me in Mexico?"
"Yeah,
and I'm only sorry I didn't finish the job!"
"That's
enough. We're only here for the money. I don't wanta kill nobody. Bright,
you get the money from these good folks, and I'll speak to the teller."
Johnny
started chuckling, "Bright--that's a good one!" The mousy-haired gunslinger
back-handed the younger Lancer.
"Johnny,
why don't you control your tongue?"
The
leader looked at the blond, then back at Johnny. "He somethin' ta ya, Madrid?"
"No,
I wuz jest talkin' ta 'im while in line."
"Then
why did he call you Johnny?"
"I
musta mentioned my name."
"Hey,
Blondie, what's your name?"
"Scott
Lancer."
"Lancer
huh? You part of that big spread near Morro Coyo?"
Scott
nodded.
"Well,
now mebbe you're worth somethin'. You got a daddy there that might pay
somethin' for you?"
Johnny
snorted. "Him? Look at him. His daddy might pay ya to take 'im!"
Bright
bellowed with laughter. "Yeah, he looks like he's afraid a his shadow.
At least Madrid knows how ta use a gun!"
Soon
one of the other gunmen walked over to show the sandy-haired leader the
bag of money that had been collected from the teller. In the background
hysterical sobs could be heard. Almost as if in apology, the leader stepped
towards the teller. "Hey, now pretty lady, no need to cry. No one's gonna
get hurt as long as none of ya does nothin' stupid."
Taking
advantage of the other man's distraction, the mousy-haired bright walked
over to Scott. "Okay, rich boy, let's have your money." When Scott didn't
hand over the money, the scrawny bushwhacker punched the blond. Scott still
didn't react. Then Bright pointed a gun at Johnny's head. "Mebbe he's somethin'
to ya 'n mebbe he ain't, but I'm gonna blow him away if ya don't hand over
your money."
At
that Scott handed over the pouch. "Would ya look at this! Hey, Boss, we've
struck it big!"
The
moustached man looked into the pouch. "I should say we did. Thank ya kindly,
Mr. Lancer. I don't suppose your daddy will miss this much, but it and
the other money will keep four desperate outlaws from starvin'." Chortling
at his own cleverness, he gave the order to ride.
The
four villains moved towards the door. Out of the corner of his eye, the
older Lancer could see Bright going out the door. He could also see the
slimy character turn and deliberately take aim at Johnny who was still
sitting on the floor.
"NO!"
Scott jumped to cover his brother, then felt the hot projectile pierce
the fleshy part of his arm. For a moment the pain was fierce, but then
he rolled away from Johnny to come to his knees. The bullet had missed
the bone and was nearly visible under the skin. It wasn't even bleeding
much.
When
Bright had fired, the teller had screamed and one of the little old ladies
had fainted. Everyone seemed to have congregated around the fallen woman
and the hysterical teller.
Getting
carefully to his feet, the younger Lancer walked over to his brother. "You
okay, Boston?"
"Sure.
How's your head?"
"Feels
like a beaver's buildin' a dam inside usin' a sledgehammer, but I'm okay."
"Who
were those guys?"
"The
mean one was Joe Bright. We had a run-in in Sonora. I thought I killed
'im then."
"How
about the guy in charge--the one who took Murdoch's money?"
"Don't
know."
"He
seemed to know you."
"Lotta
men know of Johnny Madrid--not many know Johnny Lancer."
"Thank
goodness he wasn't one of them. Seems to me he might have decided Johnny
Lancer was worth taking along."
The
brunet glanced at his brother, puzzled by the remark, but not willing to
question him about it when time was of the essence. "We better get our
horses and get after 'em."
"You're
right. Murdoch's not going to be pleased about losing so much money. Too
bad there's no law in this town to help out. Come on, we'd better go before
they get too far ahead."
"Just
a minute!" A plump, balding man walked over to the brothers."Are
you two intending to go after those men?"
"Ya
didn't think we're just gonna stand here and let'em take our money, did
ya?"
"I
don't know how much you lost, but my bank has certainly lost more so I'm
prepared to offer you a generous reward if you track those men and return
my money."
Scott
peered at his brother then at the bank manager. "Don't you mean the bank's
money?"
The
plump man flushed. "Of course. But you're wasting time. I'll give you $50.00--that's
$25.00 each."
"Man's
real generous, ain't he, Boston?"
Scott
Lancer looked the sweating man up and down and waited.
"All
right, all right! I'll make it $100.00! Just make sure it is ALL returned."
Giving
the man a disgusted glance, the blond suggested, "Maybe you should spend
some of that on a security guard?"
The
manager flushed. "Listen, I don't two trail bums to tell me my business.
$100 will keep you two in liquor for months."
The
two young men exchanged looks. "Guess we'd better go earn our money, Boston,
so's we can start that drinkin'.
Sarcastically
the blond Lancer agreed, "I can hardly wait."
"Now
that's more like it," the balding man smirked. $100.00 was a lot of money,
but after all the outlaws had made off with $10,000.00! "By the way, what
are your names?"
"He's
Johnny Madrid."
""The
gunfighter? Well, fine. I don't care if you kill them or not, just bring
back the money."
The
two men headed out to get their horses. When Scott tried to mount, his
injured arm pulled tightly. The pain brought a gasp but fortunately the
pain let up when he was safely in the saddle.
It
didn't take long to pick up the trail. The gang of four didn't seem to
be very experienced at a getaway unless there was a reason that they had
made no effort to cover their trail.
"Scott,
keep a sharp look out. This could be a trap."
"For
you, maybe."
"What
do ya mean?"
"I
think they'd be worried that you might follow--not me. After all, that
Bright tried to kill you."
"I
s'pose you're right."
The
two brothers continued for some time. Scott's arm began to hurt with the
intensity of a toothache. The initial numbness had worn off and even though
there had been little blood, he was beginning to feel slightly lightheaded.
"How
far ahead do you think they are?"
"Not
more'n half-hour. It depends on if they've got a place ta hide or they're
gonna just keep ridin'."
"Think
they'll stop for the night?"
"Mebbe.
I think they're holed up somewhere around here. They're probably splittin'
up the money. Bright's not the type ta trust any man with his share of
the loot."
"Why'd
he try to bushwhack you anyway?"
"He
wuz workin' for some landowner near the border who didn't cotton to me
helpin' out a small homesteader."
"Why's
he still alive?"
"Don't
know. Thought I'd finished him but his body fell in a river 'n washed downstream.
He musta crawled out."
"Too
bad."
The
brunet peered at the blond. "You're gettin' kinda bloodthirsty, Brother."
"No,
just practical. If you had killed him before, he wouldn't be after you
now."
"Got
a point there."
The
trail continued on into a rocky area where it stopped. "Hell!" Johnny stopped,
got down and looked carefully around. "They must have a place up there
in those trees or somethin'."
Scott
looked up to see a huge stand of trees higher up on the hill. "Why don't
we go take a look?"
"Let's
wait 'til nightfall. It'll be easier in case they got a lookout."
"All
right. It'll be dusk in an hour. Let's go back down the trail some and
find a spot to wait." Even as he spoke, dizziness struck at the blond,
but he managed to hang on long enough to pull himself up into the saddle
and follow Johnny to a small clearing. After dismounting, Scott took a
drink from his canteen, then settled himself against a boulder. In no time
the slender body succumbed to pain and exhaustion so that he fell asleep.
Seemingly
only moments later, the older man heard Johnny's voice urging him to wake
so they could check out the forested area. "Don't 'spect they'll stay too
much longer so we gotta go."
Scott
really only wanted to curl up and go back to sleep, but he dutifully followed
his brother up the hill after tethering the horses in a safe place.
At
first, the older brother feared that Johnny had been wrong about the outlaws
holing up, but then he glimpsed what appeared to be a campfire deeper into
the trees. From the clearing ahead, the two men could hear angry yelling
and then gunshots.
Instinctively
ducking, Scott bumped his injured arm against a rock. Cursing the pain,
he looked up to see Johnny moving towards the clearing, gun drawn. Pushing
himself up with his good arm, Scott followed his brother.
Not
even looking to see if the other man was covering his back, Johnny emerged
into the clearing. "Put the money down, Bright."
"So,
Madrid, ya did foller. I told 'em ya might."
Johnny
looked at the bodies lying sprawled around the campfire. "I see you're
still up to your bushwhackin' ways."
"They
wuz jest plain stupid. They thought I wuz willin' ta take a quarter. Why
should I do that when I kin have it all?"
"Now,
you're not gettin' any so put it down--slowly."
"Tell
ya what. I'll split it 50-50 with ya."
"Right.
Then you'll shoot me in the back."
A
broken-toothed grin crossed the unsavory man's face. "I might 'n I might
not. I could use a partner like Johnny Madrid. Them three were amatures"
Jerking his head at the sandy-haired man, he continued, "He used ta be
a rancher 'til he lost his money gamblin'. And t'other two worked for 'im.
They thought all they had ta do was a rob a bank and they'd get it all
back. Didn't want no killin'. Jest plain stupid. Thought since I'd a worked
for 'im awhile, I could be trusted." A hollow laugh popped out. "He don't
need ta worry 'bout money now."
"Enough
talkin'. Put the money down and toss me your gun real gentle-like."
"So
you're gonna kill me and take the money yurself?"
"Mebbe
or mebbe I'll turn it in for the reward."
"Johnny
Madrid turn it in! That's a good one."
"You're
wrong there. The name's Johnny Lancer."
"Lancer?
Like that other feller?"
Just
then Scott made his appearance. He had waited, not wanting to distract
his brother from the task at hand."We're
brothers."
Bright's
mouth dropped open at the sight of the blond. "Dang, thought I put a bullet
in ya."
"You
did, but you're a lousy bushwhacker."
Johnny's
head whipped around. Taking his eyes off Bright for one instant to glance
at Scott, the younger man lost focus. The weasel-faced man took his chance.
The money fluttered to the ground as two bullets smashed into the scrawny
body. Johnny walked over to feel for a pulse then he turned to the other
man, "This time I know he's dead."
Scott
nodded. "Let's collect the money and head back. I need a meal and a bath."
"Just
a minute. Were ya tellin' the truth 'bout him shootin' ya?"
"It's
just a scratch. I'll get it looked at when we get back to town. I want
to see that bank manager's face when we collect our $100.00."
Johnny
grinned. "Damn straight."
__________
Two
exhausted, dirty men rode into town in the wee hours of the morning. Since
the bank was still not open, the two opted to sack out in the stable with
the horses.
Then
Scott headed off to the doctor for fifteen minutes of torture while the
bullet was removed from his arm. Scott
caught up to his brother at the bathhouse. Even though his arm was bandaged,
it still felt wonderful to soak in the hot water and finally feel clean.
After eating a huge breakfast and going by the barber shop, at last the
Lancer brothers felt it was time to visit the bank and claim their reward.
Behind
the teller's counter was the beleaguered manager. He seemed to be arguing
with a bank patron. "Mrs. Warren, I cannot give you your money now. We
had a robbery if you'll remember?"
"Mr.
Giles, I want my money."
"I
don't have your money. Can't you understand? It's bad enough all of our
assets are gone. Now my only teller has quit. You'll just have to be patient."
The
woman gave him a sour look. "When my husband hears about this, he won't
be patient. You'll be run out of town!"
"Mrs.
Warren, please. I'm sure we'll get the money back."
"Uh!"
Johnny interrupted the discourse. "M'am, I believe we have your money right
here."
The
older woman stared at the dark-haired man. For one instant she wasn't sure
about the young man, then he smiled at her.
"Well,
that's right nice of you. Did you capture those terrible men too?"
"No,
m'am," Scott volunteered as he stepped up beside Johnny. "They're all dead."
"No
loss! Well, Mr. Giles, it's a good thing someone around here is competent."
"Uh,
well," looking at the two neatly-dressed men, "how did you two get the
money?"
"Don't
you remember you promised us a reward?"
"A
reward? But that was to two drifters...Oh, I see, yes of course. . . Mrs.
Warren, I hired these two fine young men to reclaim the money. Now I'll
just take it and make sure it's all here."
"Oh
it is!"
"Well,
of course, I...trust you but just let me count it." Hastily, the plump
man headed to the desk to count it out. Being flustered, it took him three
times to count it correctly, but finally he deduced that every last penny
was there plus the jewelry taken from the little old ladies.
"Now,
I'll take my money, Mr. Giles!"
"But
Mrs. Warren!"
"My
money!"
He
handed over some bills. She signed for them and then walked towards the
door, flashing a smile at the two brothers as she passed by.
"Now
that ya know it's all there, kin we have our $100?"
$100?
Are you sure that's what I said?"
"Oh
we're sure," the blond replied.
"Well,
all right but it will have to come out of my personal account." The sweating
man carefully counted out the money, then made them sign for it. "Hmm--Johnny
and Scott Lancer. By any chance are you related to Murdoch Lancer?"
"He's
our father."
The
manager paled. “Your father? Well...I ...that is, I've heard that he was
planning to do business up this way. Maybe I'll have the pleasure of meeting
him and discuss some investments."
"Oh,
you sure would have, but when we tell him just how you do business, I think
he'll find some other bank where he can put his $1,000."
"$1,000?
Wait, it wasn't my fault about the robbery!"
"S'pose
not but me 'n Scott didn't much fancy the way ya treated us so I think
we'll do our bankin' elsewhere. Right, Brother?"
"Exactly.
Come on, Brother, let's go spend our $100 on cold beer and hot women!"
And
that's exactly what they did.
_________
THE END
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