The Pinkerton Job by J. R. Roberts Page B

in the back was wrong.
    Horn looked to Siringo for support.
    â€œSorry, Tom,” the detective said, shaking his head. “I agree. Shooting somebody—anybody—from ambush? That’s just murder.”
    â€œYou’ve both killed men before,” Horn argued. “Why so antsy about it now?”
    â€œI only killed when they were trying to kill me,” Clint said.
    â€œSame here,” said Siringo.
    Horn stared at them.
    â€œI’m surprised you two have managed to live this long,” he said finally. “Okay, so what do you propose that we do?”
    â€œDivide and conquer,” Clint said.
    â€œHuh?” Horn said.
    â€œInstead of tryin’ to take them all at once,” Siringo said, “we try to take them a few at a time.”
    â€œHow do we do that?”
    â€œWell, that’s what we’ve got to figure out,” Siringo said.
    *   *   *
    Once they were back on the trail, Horn predicted they were going to catch up to the Sandusky gang within hours, so they really needed to come up with a strategy by then.
    They had no idea how things were going to change.

NINETEEN
    Harlan Sandusky watched as his men followed his instructions.
    Below them were three wranglers working with about a hundred head of cattle. They were probably driving them to a place where they would join with the majority of the herd.
    Sandusky intended for them never to get there.
    He sent half a dozen of his men down to grab the cattle, and dispose of the hands. The simplest and easiest way was for them to get as close as possible, and then start shooting.
    Just in case that started the hundred head stampeding, he had placed the rest of his men so that they’d be able to intercept the small herd and stop them before they really got started. Delilah remained at his side.
    He and Anderson watched the action, making sure that everything went right.
    It did.
    The three ranch hands were dead before they knew what happened. The cows did panic and start to run, but the rest of the men successfully cut them off and stopped them.
    Sandusky and Anderson rode down to where the nine men were sitting their horses, surrounding the cows.
    â€œCal, better check those wranglers,” Sandusky said.
    â€œRight.”
    Sandusky rode around the small herd, examining the beeves.
    â€œWhere we gonna sell ’em, boss?” one man asked.
    â€œMexico.”
    â€œWe gonna drive these cows all the way to ol’ Mexico?” another man asked, surprised. “What if they send a posse after us?”
    â€œYou know a posse we couldn’t take care of?” Sandusky asked. “Don’t worry about that.”
    â€œHarlan knows what he’s doin’,” Delilah chimed in.
    But the men
were
worried. Driving a hundred head to Mexico didn’t sound possible to them—not without getting caught.
    Anderson came riding up and said, “They’re all dead, Harlan.”
    â€œGood,” Sandusky said. “That’ll send a message. Won’t be too many volunteers for a posse after they see this. They do manage to get a posse together, ain’t gonna be much of one.”
    â€œWhere to now?” Anderson asked.
    â€œSouth,” Sandusky said, “we just keep on goin’ south. And keep these cows tight. I don’t wanna lose any of ’em.” He stood up in his stirrups. “Move ’em out!”
    *   *   *
    Three hours later Clint, Siringo, and Tom Horn rode up to a ranch house where a group of men were gathered.
    â€œUh-oh,” Siringo said.
    â€œLooks like they hit already,” Clint said.
    â€œI don’t like the way this looks,” Horn said. “We should get out of here.”
    â€œUh-uh. We’ve got to find out what happened,” Siringo said.
    â€œThat looks like a lynch mob to me,” Tom said, pointing.
    â€œThey don’t lynch people for stealin’ cattle,” Siringo