Forty-Four Caliber Justice Read Free Page A

and started sweeping away the dirt. It only took a moment to uncover the two six-inch-wide planks in the ground. He lifted them up and pulled the small safe from the ground. It wasn’t really a safe, just a rectangular metal box about one by two feet, with a hasp on the front. Pa had called it their safe. There was no lock.
    Clay opened the box. This was probably what the killers were after. His pa never liked banks. He kept some money in the bank in Uvalde, but most he kept buried in the ground in this box. Clay slowly started taking the items out. Lying across the top was a piece of paper, twice folded. He read it through. It was the contract Grandpa Barlow had given Pa when he awarded him the land grant. Clay folded it and put it in his vest pocket.
    Pa had kept his old LeMat revolver in the box, loaded and primed. He hefted the heavy revolver. Its unique design included nine .42 caliber chambers and a single shotgun barrel beneath the cylinder. Pa always liked the old LeMat. He figured if it was good enough for Jeb Stuart, it was good enough for him. Guess I’ll hang on to it.
    The box contained gold bars and silver coins that his pa had saved throughout his life. Pa had said there was close to three thousand dollars there. He and Ma were almighty good savers. Clay walked over to his pa’s saddlebags hanging across a rail in the barn. The leather smelled familiar. His hand rubbed across the burnished leather. I’ll get ’em, Pa. I swear I will. After carrying the saddlebags back to the box, he slipped the gold, silver, and the old LeMat into the bags. He placed the empty box back in the hole and put the boards back. The saddlebags were heavy now. He set them against the wall, moved the lamp, and raked the hay back in place.
    His young body was tired. He made a bed in the hay, unwilling to sleep in the house, and stretched out his long legs. I made a promise to Ma and Pa. How am I going to accomplish it? How can I find those killers? Their tracks headed south. After stopping at the Hewitt’s, I’ ll get some supplies in Uvalde and start after ’em. I’ll catch—.
    Sleep overtook him. He dreamed of his ma and pa in the sitting room, smiling, laughing.
    Clay awakened to Blue neighing in the corral. He looked at the sunlight streaming in through the barn doorway. Clay had slept way too long. He needed to get moving. He put some oats in the trough for Blue and tossed in some hay. “You’d better eat up, boy. We’ve got some riding to do.”
    The surrounding trees were filled with sound as he walked out into the yard. The mockingbird attacked the morning air with songs that he copied from other birds. A bright male cardinal trilled in the big oak. Today was like every day, except Ma and Pa were gone. “Why did they do it?” Clay asked, speaking to the silence. “If they were just trying to rob us, why would they be so brutal?” His young mind barely comprehended what had happened to his life. The cardinal looked at him with its head slightly cocked, but gave no answer. Brilliant red, it lifted on scarlet wings and sailed back to the orchard. A hummingbird zipped by on the way to Ma’s flower garden.
    The yard had been chewed up with horse tracks. Yesterday, he had seen the large blood spot in the yard. Someone else had been shot and hit hard. Hopefully he’s dead. Several tracks had been clear. One of the horses’ hooves were set deeper in the yard. It had been carrying a lot of weight, a big man. He turned abruptly and marched into the house. He didn’t need much, his slicker, sugan, and groundsheet would make up his bedroll. They hadn’t found the powder and lead, but they had taken all of the weapons. Pa’s Colt and Winchester, Slim’s rifle and sidearm, and Ma’s pocket pistol that she had killed the Comanche with. Both shotguns were also missing. Clay had his two Remington Navy revolvers and his Winchester. He’d have to get more ammunition for the Winchester in Uvalde.
    Books. He wanted to take