High Wild Desert by Ralph Cotton Page B

taken cover. But when the two walked closer to the Ranger, pistol shots rang out from the unfinished jail.
    â€œStay here,” Sam said to Adele. The two lawmen turned and raced toward the sound of overlapping gunshots.
    Out in front of the jail, Sam stood on one side of the door and Rattler on the other.
    â€œDankett!” Rattler called out through the thick door. “Are you all right in there?”
    â€œI’m good, Sheriff,” Dankett called back to him. “I thwarted a jailbreak.”
    Sam gave Rattler a curious look.
    Rattler eased and let his pistol and rifle slump in his hands.
    â€œIt’s okay, Ranger,” he said, taking a breath. “I should have expected this. Everybody tries to break out of my jail. But they never make it.”
    Sam and Sheriff Rattler eased inside the unfinished building and saw the deputy still seated, his rifle across his lap, his Colt curling smoke in his right hand. On the wall across from him, Lang hung upside down, swinging back and forth by his ankle on the end of the chain holding him to the large ball of iron. The ball was out of sight, hanging out the open window where Lang had thrown it, not realizing the weight of it would overcome him.
    The Ranger winced, already seeing what had happened.
    â€œGet me down from here!” Lang shouted, terrified. Fresh bullet holes dotted the wall, flanking him on either side. Splinters clung to Lang’s shirt and hair.
    â€œDankett,” said Rattler, “what happened this time?”
    â€œI closed my eyes just for a minute, Sheriff,” the deputy said innocently. “He pitched his iron out and was going to escape. What else could I do? I only shot my six-gun at him, didn’t really try to pin him to the wall.”
    â€œHe’s crazy, Sheriff!” Lang shouted. “Ranger, get me out of here! He tried to kill me!”
    Sam looked at Rattler.
    â€œIt’s not the first jailbreak Dankett has thwarted, Ranger,” he said. “If he’d meant to kill him, he would have lifted that shotgun to his shoulder. Cisco would be dead.” He leaned in close to Sam and whispered under his breath, “The deputy here takes some getting used to. But nobody ever tries to break out twice.”
    Sam holstered his Colt and let out a breath.
    â€œI’m going to pass on eating right now, Sheriff,” Sam said. “I’m going to take some food with us and get out of here before any more gunmen get their bark on and try to collect that reward.”

Chapter 9

    It was afternoon when the Ranger and Lang stepped down from their horses on the far side of New Delmar. The Ranger left Lang cuffed to his saddle horn while he set down a canvas sack of air-tights, hardtack and salt pork he’d bought at a mercantile store as they left town. When he had sorted out the supplies, he freed the third handcuff and nodded toward some brush and downed tree limbs lying nearby.
    â€œSee if you can gather us some firewood and kindling without turning rabbit on me,” the Ranger said. “The quicker we get us a fire started, the quicker we can eat.”
    â€œYou’ve got it all wrong, Ranger,” said Lang. “I’m not trying anything else. That lunatic Dankett has put running out of my mind.”
    â€œThat’s good to hear, Cisco,” said Sam, not believing it for a second. “Maybe there’s hope for you rehabilitating yourself after all.”
    As Lang spoke he stepped over and picked up a stout three-foot tree limb and hefted it in his hands. On his way back to where the Ranger intended to build the fire, he gazed out at a rise of trail dust and the rider coming toward them from the direction of New Delmar.
    â€œWhat’s this?” he asked.
    Instead of turning his back on Lang, the Ranger stepped to the side and positioned himself in a way that allowed him to look out at the rider without taking his eyes off his prisoner. Lang noted his maneuver