The Spurs of Iron Eyes (Iron Eyes Western #3) by Rory Black Page B

as if he should
go out into the street and let them see his star shining in the brilliant
sunlight. It might make them ride off to another place to become
another lawman’s headache, but it might also prove a tempting
target for them to practice on. Frank Lewis and Ben Tyler seemed to
stare up and down the street for a few moments before heading
across towards the saloon.
    As his meal arrived, Bass
sat back and decided to eat. There was plenty of time to act later.
Much later.

Chapter Nineteen
    Bass could not put off the
inevitable any longer. Placing a half-dollar onto the side order
plate he rose and picked up his heavy shotgun.
    ‘You leaving us already, Sheriff?’ the
sweet-natured waitress asked, as she watched the heavily built man
stepping reluctantly to the open door.
    Glancing up at the wall
clock he noted it was now forty minutes since he had first
entered.
    ‘ I got
to go talk with a couple of strangers.’
    She smiled as she always
smiled and he stepped out into the bright street and began making
his way down towards the saloon.
    Bass felt his heart beating
faster than it had ever done before, with the exception of when he
had first encountered Iron Eyes. As he reached the swing doors of
the saloon he stared in before entering.
    There were only four people in
the cool, long room drinking; two vaqueros at a table at the foot of the stairs, and the two
outlaws he sought leaning on the bar. Bass sucked in his wide
girth, clutched his shotgun and walked into the saloon.
    Trying not to look as if he
wanted anything but a beer, the sheriff moved to the end of the
long bar and nodded at the bartender.
    ‘ Beer.’
    ‘ Coming up, Sheriff.’ The man behind the bar waved as he
took a glass and placed it under the tap.
    The faces of the two men
sipping at their whiskey turned and looked across at the
lawman.
    ‘ Hot
enough for you boys?’ Bass said calmly.
    Tyler nodded as Lewis
grinned.
    ‘ Mighty hot, Sheriff.’
    Bass lifted the glass of
beer up to his lips and took a large swallow.
    ‘ You
boys in town for any particular reason?’
    Lewis moved closer to the
lawman.
    ‘ Nothing important. We were heading to San Remo but figured
it would be smart to rest up here for a few days first.’
    Bass nodded.
    ‘ You
cattle buyers?’
    Lewis glanced at his partner
before replying.
    ‘ We
were thinking of trying to get into that business.’
    ‘I hear it pays a healthy profit.’ The
sheriff kept sipping at his beer as he listened and watched the two
uncomfortable strangers.
    ‘You kept busy in Rio Vista?’ Tyler
asked.
    ‘ Saturday nights,’ Bass smiled.
    The two outlaws began to
laugh while they refilled their glasses from their whiskey
bottle.
    ‘ Last
time we were in town we saw you with a tall man,’ Lewis said
quietly.
    ‘You mean Iron Eyes?’ Bass raised an
eyebrow as he watched the effect the name had on the two nervous
men.
    Tyler gulped.
    ‘ The
bounty hunter?’
    ‘ Yep.’
The sheriff noticed the sweat beginning to trickle down from
beneath the outlaw’s hat as the man toyed with the small crystal
tumbler before him.
    ‘Is he still in town, Sheriff?’ Lewis
asked, staring into his drink.
    ‘ Nope.
He rode out two days back,’ Bass answered.
    ‘ He
due back?’ Ben Tyler’s voice croaked.
    ‘ Hard
to say.’
    ‘ How
come?’
    Bass pushed his empty glass
towards the bartender and signaled for it to be replenished.
    ‘ He
rode down into Mexico.’
    ‘ Was
he after someone?’ Frank Lewis felt suddenly relieved at the
thought of the deadly bounty hunter not being in Rio
Vista.
    ‘ There’s some bandits down there.’ Bass rubbed his chin as
the glass of beer was placed before him. ‘I guess they must have a
price on their heads for him to be interested, boys.’
    The two outlaws seemed to
be happier knowing the one man who could thwart their plans was
south of the border. They seemed to visibly relax and loosen up as
they sipped at their liquor.
    ‘ How
long you boys intend staying in