The Fury of Iron Eyes (An Iron Eyes Western #4) by Rory Black

mysterious Iron Eyes. A few seconds after
entering the building, they knew there had been no mistake. Dan was
dead. Less than a minute after walking back into the street again,
they had mounted their horses and headed out of Bonny.
    The sheriff had been
correct. The trail left by Iron Eyes’ horse was easy to follow. The
three riders spurred their mounts on.

Chapter Ten
    Sergeant John Walker held
on tightly to his Springfield rifle and studied the tree-covered
hills which loomed over the small encampment. He had been in many
such situations during his twenty or so years in the service of Old
Glory, but had never quite felt as helpless as he did at this very
moment.
    The troopers who had been
told to dig in knew nothing of what lay out there beyond the
shimmering grass. They had no notion of the fact that they were at
least five miles within the boundaries of the Cheyenne reservation.
They sat in the holes they had been ordered to dig, clutching their
single shot rifles, trying to work out why.
    The burly sergeant bit off
another mouthful of chewing tobacco and slowly began to grind it
down into a pulp with what was left of his teeth. Every few minutes he
would spit out a lump of black saliva and then continue.
    He alone among the enlisted
men knew what was out there. He alone was privileged to the
thoughts of his troubled superior, and yet he wished his mind was
as innocent as the young troopers. They did not know what horrors
might be waiting to befall them. As Walker spat again, he glanced
at the major before returning his attention to the
trees.
    Major Thomas Roberts sat
beneath a proud oak and waited for inspiration; it seemed unwilling
to visit him. He knew he had drawn the short straw when sent on
this suicidal mission, yet could not think of a way out of
it.
    Bull Fergis was not a happy
man as he strode through the tall grass towards the brooding
officer. There seemed no words which could be spoken that would
calm down the irate gold miner. Roberts did not attempt any as the
well-built man stopped above him.
    ‘ Well?’ Fergis growled with
his clenched fists resting on his hips.
    ‘ The daylight is almost
gone, Mr. Fergis. So far it seems that we have not been spotted,’
Roberts sighed.
    ‘ We ought to cut out of
here by now,’ Bull Fergis said as he leaned down until their noses
were almost touching. ‘I’ve spoken to all my men and they want to
get out of here. To hell with the gold.’
    Major Roberts nodded. ‘I
agree, but there is something you forget.’
    Fergis’s face went blank as
he straightened up trying to think of what the army officer
meant.
    Thomas Roberts rose to his
feet and looked across at his men waiting in their shallow ditches.
Slowly he turned and stared down into the harsh features of the
gold miner.
    ‘ You boys have your orders
and I’ve got mine. If I disobey mine I’ll be kicked out of the
army, and if you break your contract with the mining company, you
and your men will probably be sued.’
    Bull Fergis scratched at
his long beard. ‘But we was lied to by the agent,
Major.’
    ‘ I was told the truth,’
Roberts said. ‘The trouble is, I was given no alternative than to
lead this insane mission. If I take you boys back to Fort Bruce,
they’ll nail my hide to the wall.’
    ‘ So you’ll risk keeping us
all here just to save your damn career?’ Fergis snarled
loudly.
    Major Roberts noticed the
faces of his young troopers looking in his direction. Their trust
was being betrayed by his own selfishness. They deserved better
than to be waiting for certain death, he thought. Yet this was the
fate he was preparing them for.
    ‘ You’re absolutely right,
Mr. Fergis. Let us try and get out of here before
sunset.’
    Fergis snorted and nodded
violently. ‘You figure we’ve got time?’
    ‘If you get your oxen hitched
up to your wagons as fast as possible, there is a chance we can
slip back out of here before the Cheyenne spot us,’ Major Roberts said
as he tried to remain