Strongheart by Don Bendell Page A

with a lawman, but there was something more important going on right then with him. It came from his Lakota ancestry and his time training with uncles and cousins.
    If a person is staring at someone’s back, some people will actually feel that person staring at them and get a chill down their spine. For that reason, good bow hunters such as American Indian hunters would never stare at a deer, elk, or other game they were stalking, but instead would frequently look directly behind it. Prey animals, some people have theorized, as well as some warriors, have another sense that is undeveloped in most people, the feeling of being watched or stalked. Some call that sense the “sense of knowing.”
    Some call it strong intuition, but Joshua Strongheart was not thinking of anything like that. He was only thinking that these two were not alone, and that they were trouble no matter how much they were smiling. His bad feelings were so strong that his right hand went down on the handle of his Colt. He was ready to draw, and when Strongheart pulled a gun out of his holster, something or somebody got shot.
    Jeeter pointed at him, saying, “Mister, what’s wrong with you?”
    Two shots rang out almost simultaneously, but Long Legs’s shot was a split second faster. Joshua’s head snapped back and blood appeared on his forehead as he slammed against the stagecoach and fell to the ground, still and unmoving, his face now covered with blood. Jeeter and Harlance drew their guns and dismounted as the rest of the gang came riding up.
    Chancy took a chance and was mowed down with a hail of withering gunfire. He didn’t have a real chance at all. Annabelle wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, but she made up her mind she would show no fear. The stagecoach driver raised his hands as if he desperately needed to grab ahold of two clouds, and the drummer leaned against the coach whimpering and clutching his valise to his chest with both hands and arms.
    The gang dismounted and started approaching the drummer, Annabelle, and the driver. Jeeter went over to the still form of Joshua Strongheart and unbuckled his gun belt, removed it, and wrapped it around his own waist, buckling it. He left his own gun and belt on the ground.
    â€œHow about this rig, boys?” he said. “This is fancy. I always wanted me a rig like this.”
    He then knelt to check Joshua’s pockets and felt the money belt through the trousers with the back of his fingers. He undid the trousers and whistled when he discovered it. Harlance walked over and looked at the new find. Jeeter opened the belt and found the letter to General Davis. He opened it and quickly read it.
    He said, “Nice money belt. Ah’m a gonna whar it, Harlance. Let’s save this letter. Looks important. Maybe we can git some money fer it.”
    â€œHey, you got the durned gun and knife, Jeeter,” Harlance answered. “I oughta git the money belt.”
    Jeeter handed him the belt, saying, “Yeah, yer right.”
    Harlance carefully put the letter back in the belt and proudly put it on under his trousers.
    They went over to the cowering drummer and started laughing when they saw how tightly he clutched the valise. Ruddy Cheeks Carroll yanked the valise from the man’s arms and opened it, and his mouth dropped open. He reached in and started laughing. Annabelle had been very curious about the contents of the valise, and the drummer started crying and whimpering as Carroll pulled out a shiny purple dress, lingerie, a pair of women’s shoes that would fit the drummer, a woman’s red wig, and a makeup kit.
    â€œStand up!” Harlance roared. “Yer one a them dandies? I don’t like dandies at all.”
    Harlance reached over and drew Joshua’s .45 out of Jeeter’s holster, cocked it, and as the man screamed in a high-pitched yell, he shot him in the middle of the forehead. His head snapped back and hit the stage