The Third Western Megapack. Johnston McCulley
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marry Ben and quit this job, Steve?”
Startled at the abrupt switch in the conversation, Steve answered sharply: “Reckon that’s my business.”
“Reckon it is,” the craggy old driver agreed, “but I know it isn’t ’cause he hasn’t asked you. He’s made no bones about wanting you to marry him for the past couple of years. If I—”
His next words were cut off by the sound of a shot. The bullet whizzed high over their heads, and almost in the same instant, it seemed, a voice at Steve’s elbow shouted, “Don’t reach for your gun!” and to Andy, “Stop the stagecoach!”
Steve whirled and found herself looking down into a pair of blue eyes that glinted as coldly as the gun barrel which was pointed directly at her. A mere wiggle of her little finger would have sent a bullet ripping into her chest.
Andy stopped the horses in a matter of seconds, and the stagecoach stood rocking on its wheels after its abrupt stop. The two squealing lady passengers and a fidgety little drummer didn’t even rate a glance from the lone bandit.
“Keep quiet and you won’t get hurt,” the gunman yelled at them. “Now, miss, just hand down that iron box there under your feet.”
“I will not,” Steve said defiantly.
Just for a moment the masked man stiffened, and then his eyes above the black kerchief which covered the rest of his face crinkled. “Throw it down, old timer,” he said to Andy without taking his eyes from Steve.
“Yes, sir,” Andy replied, scrambling to obey.
He dropped the iron box in the dust at the feet of the bandit’s, horse. Reaching out quickly, the masked man snatched the big gun from Steve’s knees, snagged the iron box by one handle, and pulled it some distance from the stagecoach. All this without a single waver of his eyes or gun.
Then came the most surprising move of all. The big bandit shot out a long arm and lifted Steve right off the driver’s seat and deposited her across the saddle in front of him.
The suddenness of the move paralyzed Steve for a moment, and then she gasped and started fighting like a wildcat, a captured wildcat, for captured she was. Bound by an arm strong as an iron band, she could do little but wiggle and kick feebly. Her face was pressed so tightly against the man’s broad chest, she couldn’t even yell.
Rage shot through her like a hot flame and set her blood pounding in her ears until she hardly heard the bandit’s orders to Andy.
“Don’t move an inch, old-timer, and don’t try any funny tricks or your pretty companion here will get a bullet through her heart.” His eyes crinkled again. “What I’ve got to do will only take a minute anyway.”
Steve felt the laughter rumbling in his huge chest as the horse wheeled and galloped to the shade of a nearby tree:
“And now, my fiery beauty,” he said pulling the horse up short. The words, Steve found as she leaned back far enough to look up into his eyes, were meant not for the horse but for her.
The way his glance stole over her made Steve blurt out hastily, “You touch me and I’ll—I’ll scratch your eyes out!”
The man yelped with laughter. “I don’t doubt your word or your ability, but don’t you think you’re a little late seeing as how I’ve already got you in my arms.”
His laughter and his cocksureness infuriated Steve even further, and her fury gave her added strength.
She managed to twist an arm free and quick as a flash she reached up and yanked off the bandit’s mask. She had only a quick glimpse of red hair above the ears, freckled, pleasantly-homely face, and a clefted chin before the wide grinning mouth came down on hers hard.
She began flailing him with her one free arm, but she might as well have beat against a brick wall. Rage and the vise-like arm around her made it almost impossible to breathe. For a moment she thought her lungs would burst from lack of air, and then suddenly his mouth moved ever so slightly so that her nose lay lightly against his cheek. Strangely enough, Steve found it just as difficult to breathe as before. And it wasn’t rage now which made the blood pound in her head.
The arm, which only a moment before had been beating desperately against the bandit’s broad chest, now crept up around his neck, and her mouth became warm and alive beneath his.
Tearing his mouth away from hers, the bandit gazed down at her for a moment, breathing heavily. Then jabbing his heel sharply against his horse’s flank, he sent the animal galloping back to the stagecoach.
By this time, Steve had recovered her poise and put up a pretty good fight for the benefit of Andy and the passengers inside the coach. It was only a half-hearted struggle, however, she was chagrined to discover. What was wrong with her? She should have been thoroughly enraged but all she felt was weakness and a fluttery feel-ing in her stomach.
“Let me go, you brute!” she shouted with as much indignation as she could manage.
“Anything for a lady,” the bandit said, swinging her up on the driver’s seat. Chuckling through the mask he had pulled back up over his face, he remarked, “And you are a lady, I find. I’m amazed. You dress and behave like a man, but you kiss like a woman. You’re wasting your time as sheriff, believe me. That is what that star on your chest means, isn’t it?”
Choking with sure enough rage now, Steve noted the man’s glance, lingering on the spot where the badge was pinned to her shirt.
“Oh!” she gasped and cracked the driver’s whip over the backs of the horses, sending-the stagecoach off in a cloud of dust.
She felt rather than heard Andy’s laughter, and it made her even more furious. She cracked the whip over the backs of the horses again and was rewarded by the screams of fright which emanated from the rear of the stagecoach.
“Easy there, gal!” Andy shouted. “No need to wreck this here stagecoach just ’cause you’re mad at that black-masked, gun-totin’ Cassanova,” and he grabbed the whip out of her hand, which suddenly went limp.
“I’ll have his hide for this!” Steve swore, shaken and close to tears from anger and humiliation.
Andy, who had seen everything that happened, knew what was troubling Steve most. He hadn’t missed that soft arm which had stolen of its own will around the bandit’s neck.
In an effort to divert Steve’s mind from that one moment of weakness, Andy said, “That feller wasn’t the same one that held me up last week. This one was a lot bigger and had red hair. Besides, that hombre last week had a short, pudgy pal helping him.” Andy chuckled. “This boy didn’t need help, did he?”
Ignoring Andy’s last remark, Steve asked, “Are you sure this wasn’t the same one who stole the gold shipment last time?”
“Stake my life on it. This one was different, even acted different. Never have seen a hold-up man act like he did.” Andy chuckled again.
“I’ll appreciate it if you’ll keep your remarks to yourself,” Steve said sharply.
“Anything you say, miss. I was just— Well, I’ll be!”
The cause of his exclamation was a cloud of dust to the right and two masked horsemen emerging from it. The sun glinted blindingly on their drawn guns. There was no use trying to outrun them.
“Whoa! Whoa, there,” Andy yelled at the horses.
Speechless with amazement, Steve watched the two strangers approach the stagecoach. Two holdups within a matter of minutes! It was unbelievable!
“What do you want?” she shouted down at the two men as the stagecoach came to a quivering stop.”
“The gold shipment,” the thin dark one who was covering her replied. “Hand it down.” The other one was keeping watch over the passengers.
“You’re a little late, fella,” Steve said;