went to the corner of the shed where she could see the train and the approaching riders. Conrad could tell by the stiff stance of her slim body how tense she was.
The dust cloud suddenly changed direction, and veered to the east, toward Navajo Wash. For a moment Conrad couldn’t figure out what they were doing. The realization burst on his brain as the riders closed in on the tracks and began shooting.
Leatherwood was making a smart move. Having figured out his quarry was at the water tank, he wanted the train to highball on through without stopping—without even slowing down—leaving Conrad, Selena, and Arturo stuck there.
It would appear Leatherwood and his companions were trying to stop the train. The engineer and fireman in the locomotive’s cab would assume it was a holdup, and not stop to take on water.
Conrad bit back a curse. The range was long, but he leveled the Winchester and started firing at the horsemen. He still couldn’t be completely sure they were Leathewood and the other gunmen, but their attack on the train made it clear they weren’t on the same side as Conrad and his companions. If he could force them to break off their attack, the train still might stop.
A shrill whistle came from the locomotive and it surged ahead faster, barreling along the tracks at top speed. The gunmen had accomplished their goal. They threw a few more shots at the train just to speed it along, then slowed their horses and began to fall back. They paralleled the tracks and rode steadily toward the water tank.
The train passed them, and suddenly the riders lunged their mounts across the tracks and galloped alongside the caboose where Conrad couldn’t see them. Even running flat out, the horses couldn’t keep up with the train for more than a few moments, but that was long enough to shield the men until the train reached the water stop and roared on past the tank.
“Get behind the shed!” Conrad shouted to Arturo and Selena, bellowing at the top of his lungs to be heard over the train’s nearly deafening rumble.
Conrad retreated along the curve of the tank as the train flashed past. Smoke billowed from the locomotive’s diamond-shaped stack and stung his eyes and nose, making it difficult to see and breathe. Dropping to a knee, he brought the rifle to his shoulder as he caught a glimpse of Leatherwood through a gap in the smoke. The man’s ugly face was unmistakable.
Leatherwood spotted Conrad’s movement and pointed the gun in his hand upward. “Up there on the tank! Kill him!”
Conrad squeezed off a shot first, but even as the Winchester blasted, Leatherwood jerked his horse aside. Smoke and flame geysered from the muzzle of his gun as he fired twice. Conrad heard the bullets thud into the tank.
He levered the rifle and sprayed slugs across the tracks as fast as he could. From down below he heard the whipcrack of more shots as Arturo joined in the fight. Conrad saw one of the avenging angels send his horse leaping across the tracks, and knew the man was trying to get behind the shed.
“Be careful of the girl!” Leatherwood roared. The gun in his hand slammed out more shots.
Water spurted from several holes in the tank where bullets had drilled through the pitch-coated wood, giving Conrad an idea as he saw the third man force his horse across the tracks next to the tank. He ran around the narrow platform to the long, spring-loaded spout, grabbed it, and jerked it down. Water shot from it, arcing across the tracks and hitting Leatherwood. Unprepared, Leatherwood choked and reeled in the saddle, and his horse began to buck.
Tossing his empty rifle to the ground, Conrad wrapped his arms around the metal spout and slid down a couple feet, then let go and dropped to the ground next to the thick beams that served as legs under the tank. He landed lightly and his Colt flickered out as he spotted the man who had just ridden across the tracks. Ten feet away, the man swung his gun toward Conrad, but Conrad fired
The dust cloud suddenly changed direction, and veered to the east, toward Navajo Wash. For a moment Conrad couldn’t figure out what they were doing. The realization burst on his brain as the riders closed in on the tracks and began shooting.
Leatherwood was making a smart move. Having figured out his quarry was at the water tank, he wanted the train to highball on through without stopping—without even slowing down—leaving Conrad, Selena, and Arturo stuck there.
It would appear Leatherwood and his companions were trying to stop the train. The engineer and fireman in the locomotive’s cab would assume it was a holdup, and not stop to take on water.
Conrad bit back a curse. The range was long, but he leveled the Winchester and started firing at the horsemen. He still couldn’t be completely sure they were Leathewood and the other gunmen, but their attack on the train made it clear they weren’t on the same side as Conrad and his companions. If he could force them to break off their attack, the train still might stop.
A shrill whistle came from the locomotive and it surged ahead faster, barreling along the tracks at top speed. The gunmen had accomplished their goal. They threw a few more shots at the train just to speed it along, then slowed their horses and began to fall back. They paralleled the tracks and rode steadily toward the water tank.
The train passed them, and suddenly the riders lunged their mounts across the tracks and galloped alongside the caboose where Conrad couldn’t see them. Even running flat out, the horses couldn’t keep up with the train for more than a few moments, but that was long enough to shield the men until the train reached the water stop and roared on past the tank.
“Get behind the shed!” Conrad shouted to Arturo and Selena, bellowing at the top of his lungs to be heard over the train’s nearly deafening rumble.
Conrad retreated along the curve of the tank as the train flashed past. Smoke billowed from the locomotive’s diamond-shaped stack and stung his eyes and nose, making it difficult to see and breathe. Dropping to a knee, he brought the rifle to his shoulder as he caught a glimpse of Leatherwood through a gap in the smoke. The man’s ugly face was unmistakable.
Leatherwood spotted Conrad’s movement and pointed the gun in his hand upward. “Up there on the tank! Kill him!”
Conrad squeezed off a shot first, but even as the Winchester blasted, Leatherwood jerked his horse aside. Smoke and flame geysered from the muzzle of his gun as he fired twice. Conrad heard the bullets thud into the tank.
He levered the rifle and sprayed slugs across the tracks as fast as he could. From down below he heard the whipcrack of more shots as Arturo joined in the fight. Conrad saw one of the avenging angels send his horse leaping across the tracks, and knew the man was trying to get behind the shed.
“Be careful of the girl!” Leatherwood roared. The gun in his hand slammed out more shots.
Water spurted from several holes in the tank where bullets had drilled through the pitch-coated wood, giving Conrad an idea as he saw the third man force his horse across the tracks next to the tank. He ran around the narrow platform to the long, spring-loaded spout, grabbed it, and jerked it down. Water shot from it, arcing across the tracks and hitting Leatherwood. Unprepared, Leatherwood choked and reeled in the saddle, and his horse began to buck.
Tossing his empty rifle to the ground, Conrad wrapped his arms around the metal spout and slid down a couple feet, then let go and dropped to the ground next to the thick beams that served as legs under the tank. He landed lightly and his Colt flickered out as he spotted the man who had just ridden across the tracks. Ten feet away, the man swung his gun toward Conrad, but Conrad fired
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