The Pinkerton Job (13 page)

FORTY-TWO

Sandusky tried to shake them by switching horses frequently, riding in streams, doubling back, and eventually, riding from Texas into Louisiana.

It went on for weeks, and about the only good part was that Horn's leg was healing well.

“Is he heading for New Orleans?” Siringo wondered. “He'd stand out there.”

“He's got to go through Baton Rouge first,” Clint said. “Maybe we can catch him there.”

“What about more men?” Siringo asked. “It seems to be his talent, picking up men to work with him.”

“Unless the word gets around how he's been treatin' his men,” Clint said, “givin' them up so he can get away.”

“Well,” Horn said, “judging from his tracks, he hasn't picked up anybody yet. But that doesn't mean he won't somewhere along the way.”

“If I was him,” Clint said, “somewhere in Louisiana I'd switch to the river.”

“Hop on a riverboat upriver?” Siringo said. “That's a good idea, Clint. But maybe he ain't that smart.”

“Or maybe he don't like boats,” Horn said. “I know they make me sick.”

“Well, whatever happens,” Clint said, “we need to restock in Baton Rouge.”

“We'll be there in an hour,” Horn said. “And his tracks head straight there.”

“When we get there, we might as well check on boats,” Siringo said. “It's too good an idea to pass up.”

“Agreed,” Horn said.

*   *   *

Sandusky had decided he needed a boat.

Tom Horn was a tracker, a manhunter. As long as Horn was tracking him with Adams and Siringo and whoever else was with them, Sandusky needed to find a way not to leave a trail. That meant water.

He'd tried riding through streams, but that would only delay things. As he approached Baton Rouge, he realized he could catch a riverboat there and take it upstream to Vicksburg or Saint Louis.

Once he put the Mississippi between himself and them, they'd never catch him.

*   *   *

When they reached Baton Rouge, they decided before picking up any supplies that they'd better figure out whether Sandusky was there, had been there but had ridden on, or had gotten himself on a boat.

“I'll check the riverboats,” Clint offered.

“I'll check the hotels,” Horn said, because he didn't really want to go near the river.

“I'll talk to the local law, then see what I can find out from the livery stables,” Siringo said. “If all of that fails, we can check the saloons together.”

They agreed, and split up.

*   *   *

Sandusky found a boat that would be leaving later that day. He had three hours to kill. One thing he wanted to do was sell his horse and saddle. He still had some money left over from the last job he'd pulled, but he didn't want to take the horse and saddle on the boat. He could buy new ones at the other end. He'd decided to take the riverboat—called
The Enterprise
—all the way up to Saint Louis.

He bought his ticket, and headed for the nearest livery stable to make a deal.

*   *   *

Clint checked with the harbormaster and found out that a boat would be leaving in the next hour or so.

“Is it here, or is it coming in?” he asked.

“It's here,” he was told.

He went down to the river to take a look at
The Enterprise
.

*   *   *

Siringo tried three livery stables, and at the third one he heard that a man had recently sold his saddle and horse.

“Can I see them?”

“You wanna buy 'em?” the liveryman asked.

“No, I just wanna see them.”

“Still gotta pay,” the man said.

Siringo paid.

*   *   *

Horn was coming up empty, and was afraid he was going to have to go down to the harbor. His stomach was feeling queasy already.

*   *   *

Sandusky had his ticket and was just waiting for the call to board. He found a saloon near the harbor to wait in. He was told someone would come in and call for passengers.

*   *   *

Siringo found Clint on the river.

“I found his saddle and horse,” he said. “He sold them to a livery close by.”

“Are you sure they're his?”

“I checked the horse's hooves,” Siringo said. “Horn said the animal he rode here had a cut on the left rear, and I found it.”

“Well, I found one boat that's going out, and it leaves in about half an hour,” Clint said. “We need to find him by then.”

They saw Horn approaching them, a miserable look on his face.

“I didn't find anythin',” he said.

“We've pinpointed a boat we think he's takin,” Siringo said.

“We need to search these docks, and places nearby,” Clint said. “Maybe he's in a saloon or a restaurant or café.”

“One of us should stay by the boat, in case he tries to board,” Siringo said.

“Tom, you're still limping, even though you're healing,” Clint said. “Why don't you do that?”

Horn didn't want to be that close to the river, but he couldn't argue the point.

“Okay.”

“Clint, you and me will split up and start searching. If he's alone, whoever finds him should just try to take him.”

“Agreed,” Clint said. “It's time to end this.”

“We can't let him leave on that boat,” Siringo said.

“I won't let him get on,” Horn promised.

“And he's probably still got that shotgun he took from the bartender in Sirocco,” Siringo said, “so be careful.”

“Let's get it done,” Clint said.

FORTY-THREE

A man stuck his head in the door and called for passengers for
The Enterprise
.

“Time to board!” he called out.

Sandusky grabbed his saddlebags and the shotgun and hurried out.

*   *   *

Siringo was checking cafés and saloons while Clint checked the docks. The detective walked past the saloon just as Sandusky came walking out.

They completely missed each other.

*   *   *

Sandusky headed for the boat, certain that he had made it. Still, he held the shotgun ready.

*   *   *

Clint spotted a man from behind, approaching the docks, and he studied him for a moment. He saw the saddlebags over his shoulder, and the shotgun in his hands, and decided this was his man.

*   *   *

Horn was scanning the faces of the people who were boarding. The area in front of
The Enterprise
had become crowded. If he shot Sandusky, there'd be a lot of innocent bystanders who might get hurt.

*   *   *

Sandusky had seen Tom Horn the day that Anderson shot him. When he saw him by the gangway, he knew it was him. He was still hidden from Horn's view by the other people.

He stuck the shotgun out in front of him.

*   *   *

Clint lost Sandusky in the crowd, hurriedly tried to work his way through to the boat. If Horn didn't see the man in time . . .

*   *   *

Sandusky made sure he remained behind a group as they approached the gangway. At the last moment he stepped out and pointed the shotgun at Horn.

“Time to die,” he said.

Horn went for his gun, but he wasn't as fast, and the shotgun was already pointed at him.

He knew he'd never make it.

*   *   *

Clint saw Sandusky point the shotgun at Horn. The last thing he wanted to do was shoot a man in the back, but he had no choice. Even if he yelled, Sandusky might not hear him, or might not turn.

He drew and fired.

*   *   *

People screamed at the sound of the shot, and most of them hit the ground. As the bullet struck Sandusky, he jerked the shotgun up and it fired into the air.

Horn stood with his hand on his gun.

*   *   *

Clint approached Sandusky with his gun still out, checked the body. He kicked the shotgun into the water, plucked the man's pistol out of his holster, and did the same with it.

“That was close,” Horn said. “Thanks.”

Siringo came running up with his gun out.

“It's over,” Clint said.

“Clint saved my bacon.”

People started standing up again, milling about, boarding the boat. A man came running down the gangway, looked like the captain of the boat. And soon, Clint figured, there'd be law.

“What's goin' on?” the captain demanded.

Clint ignored him and said to Siringo, “That's Sandusky, isn't it?” Horn took the captain aside.

Siringo turned the man over and said, “Yeah, that's him.”

“So it's over,” Clint said. “We'll just have to explain it to the law when they get here.”

He ejected the spent shell, replaced it, and holstered his gun.

“You okay?” Siringo asked.

“I had to shoot him in the back.”

“Oh,” Siringo said. “You wouldn't have done it if you had another way.”

“I know,” Clint said, “but somehow, that doesn't make me feel much better.”

“Well,” Siringo said, putting his hand on Clint's shoulder, “you wouldn't be the man you are if it did.”

WATCH FOR

THE DEVIL'S COLLECTOR

379
^th
novel in the exciting GUNSMITH series

from Jove

Coming in July!