Read The Loner: The Bounty Killers for Free Online

frown.
    “I’m not the sheriff. I’m the marshal of Las Vegas,” the lawman snapped. “And I’m too old to risk this desperado trying any tricks while I’m getting him locked up. He’ll be easier to handle this way.”
    The Kid replaced the three rounds he had fired outside and slid the gun into leather. “I suppose it’s up to you how you handle your business, Marshal.”
    “You’re damned right it is. Like I said, I’m obliged to you for your help, but I’ll do things my own way.”
    “Fair enough.”
    The Kid started to turn toward the double doors, but the marshal stopped him by saying, “Stay right where you are. I want to talk to you.” He raised his voice. “Bennett! You and some of your employees lay hands on this bank robber and carry him around the corner to my jail.”
    A portly, balding man who was probably the bank manager or maybe even the owner pulled out a handkerchief and mopped his perspiring forehead. “Of course, Marshal,” he said. He motioned for the two tellers who had helped the female hostage to come with him.
    The marshal stepped over to the woman and asked, “Are you all right, Mrs. Grimsley?”
    “Yes, I . . . I’m fine,” she replied. She was pale and shaky, but appeared to be unharmed. “I was never so frightened in all my life as when that man grabbed me!”
    “Well, he can’t hurt you now. When I buffalo somebody, he stays out cold for a while.”
    The men from the bank, aided by a male customer, had taken hold of the unconscious outlaw and lifted him from the floor. They were ready to carry him out. After picking up his shotgun, the marshal moved to accompany them to the jail and jerked his head at The Kid.
    “Come along.”
    The Kid was getting a little tired of being ordered around. From the looks of things, the star packer was used to getting his own way. Not wanting to draw any extra attention to himself, The Kid followed the group of men out the door.
    A large crowd had gathered in front of the bank to gawk at the bloody corpses of the dead outlaws. Trying to make the gesture look natural, The Kid reached up and tugged his hat brim lower to shield more of his face. He also kept his head lowered as he fell in step beside the marshal.
    “All right, you folks break it up and go on about your business!” the lawman told the crowd. “The undertaker will be here in a minute, and he’ll need to get through with his wagon to load up what’s left of those ne’er-do-wells.”
    “Did they get away with any money from the bank, Marshal?” someone in the crowd called.
    “They didn’t get away, period. What about it, Bennett? Did they get their thieving hands on any loot?”
    The banker shook his head as he helped the other men carry the unconscious outlaw. “No, the shooting broke out before they could start emptying the tellers’ drawers. They never got around to forcing me to open the vault.”
    “What started the ball?”
    “The ball?” The banker looked baffled for a second before understanding dawned on his face. “Oh, the shooting! Calvin here grabbed his gun and got off a shot.” He nodded toward one of the tellers. “We all dived for cover when they returned the fire.”
    “Is that true, Calvin?” the marshal asked the man. “You keep a pistol in your drawer?”
    “Yes, I do, Marshal,” Calvin said. “I got held up once when I was working at a bank over in Flagstaff, and I swore it would never happen again.”
    “Well, that was mighty brave of you . . . and mighty foolish.” The marshal’s voice took on a whiplike quality, lashing at the man. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed, not to mention everybody else in that bank. Next time some owlhoot with a mask on his face comes in, just give him the money and let the law deal with him.”
    Calvin swallowed and nodded. “Yes, sir. I was just trying to do what I thought was right.”
    “Let the law do the thinking.”
    That exchange rubbed The Kid the wrong way, and he had a hunch Bennett