Stay Away From That City . . . They Call It Cheyenne (Code of the West) Read Free

the door.
    Pepper tried to peek out.
    “Stay under there.”
    “What was that? A shotgun?”
    “Dynamite, more likely.”
    “A lynch party?”
    “Not during daylight. Stay there.”
    Tap crawled across the wooden floor, trying not to cut his hands on the shattered glass. He lifted his head to the wi ndow. He dove to the floor as two shots rang out. Bullets smashed into the back wall of the office.
    “It must be Jerome Hager’s compadres comin’ to break him out.”
    “Already?”
    “Reckon they figure on stayin’ ahead of the lynch mob.” He scampered on his hands and knees to the back of the office toward the jail cells.
    “Where you going?” she cried out.
    “To check on the prisoner. There were two explosions. Stay under the desk.”
    Tap entered the cell area, still crawling along the floor. The first thing he noticed was the narrow, iron-barred window blown out. One brick had tumbled to the floor. Fine, red dust so filled the room, it was like peering through fog. He fought the urge to cough. Gun in hand, he inched closer. Hager still lay unconscious.
    “Jerome?” someone outside hollered.
    A hand and pistol stuck through the broken window. “Jerome, grab this .45. The blasted wall didn’t blow. Jerome?”
    Tap unlocked the iron door and crept into the cell.
    “Hurry up, Jerome. My arm’s about to fall off, and folks is  comin’.”
    Tap grabbed the man’s arm and hollered back at the o ffice, “Pepper, bring me some hand irons.”
    The man squeezed the trigger. A bullet shattered the floor near Tap’s feet. He jumped back, released his grip and the arm disa ppeared out the window.
    Tap leaped to the corner of the bunk and looked out the broken window. He saw the backside of a man pushing his way through a throng of citizens on the far side of the street.
    “Are you all right?” Pepper stood at the door with a shotgun and wrist irons. “Were they trying to blow a hole in the wall?”
    “I don’t think they knew what they were doin’. They could have done that much damage with a stone.”
    Tap locked the cell behind him and took the shotgun. “Come on. I need you out of here.”
    Out front Tap studied the crowd that had gathered.
    “Tap, I don’t want you to be deputy anymore. I want you to come home and hold me and never let go.”
    “It will be okay, darlin’.”
    When Tap and Pepper appeared on the steps of the marshal’s office, the people swarmed closer.
    “Everything all right, Deputy?”
    “Did they shoot Hager?”
    “Did he escape?”
    “You and Mrs. Andrews hurt?” The last speaker was Tom Breshnan, now pushing through the crowd.
    “We’re fine. Thanks for askin’, Mayor.” He shoved Pepper gently. “Go on. I’ll see you later, babe.”
    She swept down the steps and into the throng.
    “Folks, everything is fine. We had a little fireworks and lost some glass, that’s all.”
    Pulling Tap aside, the mayor asked, “What happened at the Occidental?”
    “Rolly Hayburn said some Black Hills loafers and bu mmers wandered in and started denigratin’ the great state of Texas, cattle drovers, and ranchin’ in general.”
    “In other words, looking for a fight?”
    “Yep. Lead started flyin’, and the room filled with smoke. Pappy burst in figurin’ to talk them into law and order, since he always thought there is a reasonable streak in every man. Apparently, Jerome Hager was stewed and firing at anything that moved. He shot Pappy in the back.”
    Mayor Breshnan tiptoed across the broken glass in the ma rshal’s office to glance at the cells. “Hager still alive?”
    “Yep, but I reckon he’s sufferin’ from a headache.”
    “Andrews, it’s not a very Christian thing to say, but I surely wish Hager had died in the shootout. He’s been in jail thirty minutes, and already there’s chaos. Cheyenne will be in an uproar as long as he’s in here. There’ll be a lynch gang tonight. What are we goin’ to do?”
    Tap grabbed a broom and swept up the shattered