Webb's Posse by Ralph Cotton Page A

Summers’ voice then backstepped as Summers came past him to the front of the crowd and stepped up onto the boardwalk. “And you’d be damned fools to take my word for it.”
    Abner Webb whispered close to Summers’ ear, “It sure took you long enough getting back here.”
    Summers smiled, set the sack of feed down at his feet, took the wanted posters from inside his shirt and fanned them for the townsmen to see. “But right here is the proof…for anybody who wants to check it out. I went through these flyers. It’s not twelve or fourteen thousand like I said earlier. Counting the five thousand apiece for Goose and Moses Peltry, the whole bunch is worth a total of
twenty-seven thousand, five hundred dollars
, on their feet or slung over their saddles.”
    Abner Webb stared at Summers, doubting he had gone through all those posters and added up the total.
    â€œCan we see them?” a voice asked from among the men.
    â€œBe my guest,” said Summers. He waved the handful of papers back and forth. “Anybody wants to, feel free to figure it all up yourself.” Without hesitation, he quickly stuffed the posters back inside his shirt, then said before anybody could step forward to look at them, “But I want to remind all of you: The longer we waste time here, the farther away these skunks are going to be.”
    Wild Joe Duvall stood at the front of the crowd, his thumbs hooked in his gunbelt. A wide handlebar mustache mantled his lip; a roll of beer fat drooped over his belt buckle. “This is all moving a mite toofast is what I think. Hadn’t we oughta wait and see what the sheriff wants us to do? He might want us to contact the army…turn this over to them.”
    Will Summers saw a few heads nod in agreement. He spoke quickly, taking control. “Gentlemen, I can safely guarantee you this: Once Sheriff Hastings comes to, you don’t want to face him and tell him you had a chance to catch up to the Peltry Gang but didn’t do it!”
    â€œBut still, there’s the army.” Wild Joe Duvall shrugged. “Why not let them take the Peltrys on? We’re scrounging around for horses and guns, but the army has plenty of both.”
    â€œHear that, men?” said Will Summers. “Wild Joe Duvall wants to turn this thing over to the army. Well, yes, you can do that sure enough. But you be sure and tell the army to bring some hammers, some roofing tin and nails, so they can rebuild these places for you.” He locked his gaze onto Wild Joe Duvall. “Is that what you really want? Do you want the army to wipe your noses for you? How will you face each other afterward?”
    â€œYeah, Joe,” a voice called out. “What’s wrong with you? You act about half scared!”
    â€œThat’s a damn lie,” Wild Joe Duvall raved, looking back and forth for the owner of the voice. “Anybody calling me a coward better be ready to step out on the street! You men all know me! There ain’t a wilder, bolder fighting sonsabitch alive than me when I take a notion!”
    â€œThat’s good enough for me,” said Summers, starting to clap his hands. “Let’s all hear it for Wild Joe Duvall—he’s riding with us! Now, who else is going?”
    â€œWait a minute,” Wild Joe said, looking worried.“I got lots to do around my house. I can see sky through the holes in the roof!” But his words were drowned out by the crowd.
    â€œThat’s my pa!” shouted Eddie Duvall. “Whoop the living hell out of them, Pa! Show everybody how it’s done!”
    Wild Joe’s face reddened. At the sound of his son’s cheering, he relented. Raising a hand to the crowd, Wild Joe offered a brave grin and shouted, “All right! What the hell are we waiting for? Let’s get after ’em!”
    â€œYou heard him,” said Summers above the crowd. “Everybody who’s going, get