Bodie 10: Across the Divide
By Neil Hunter
()
About this ebook
When Bodie went after Ty McLennan, it had nothing to do with money. McLennan shot and killed Gunnar Olsen during a bank robbery, and Olsen was a friend to the bounty man. When he attended the funeral, he met US Marshal Alvin LeRoy. LeRoy was also on the trail of McLennan and his bunch, so they decided to team up and track them down together.
Battling brutal weather and violent outlaws, Bodie and LeRoy rode hard to prevent McLennan’s next job, an audacious robbery, but as always, the showdown could go one of two ways. Bodie could exact revenge for his murdered friend ... or join him on Boot Hill!
Neil Hunter
Neil Hunter is, in fact, the prolific Lancashire-born writer Michael R. Linaker. As Neil Hunter, Mike wrote two classic western series, BODIE THE STALKER and JASON BRAND. Under the name Richard Wyler he produced four stand-alone westerns, INCIDENT AT BUTLER’S STATION, THE SAVAGE JOURNEY, BRIGHAM’S WAY and TRAVIS.
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Titles in the series (11)
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Bodie 10 - Neil Hunter
The Home of Great Western Fiction!
CONTENTS
About the Book
Author’s Note
Copyright
Clear Springs - East of the Divide
Along the Divide
Clear Springs
Across the High Divide
More on Neil Hunter
When Bodie went after Ty McLennan, it had nothing to do with money. McLennan shot and killed Gunnar Olsen during a bank robbery, and Olsen was a friend to the bounty man. When he attended the funeral, he met US Marshal Alvin LeRoy. LeRoy was also on the trail of McLennan and his bunch, so they decided to team up and track them down together.
Battling brutal weather and violent outlaws, Bodie and LeRoy rode hard to prevent McLennan’s next job, an audacious robbery, but as always, the showdown could go one of two ways. Bodie could exact revenge for his murdered friend … or join him on Boot Hill!
Author’s Note
In 1872, the Supreme Court ruled that bounty hunters were a part of the U.S. law enforcement system with the decision that:
When the bail is given, the principal is regarded as delivered to the custody of his sureties. Their domain is a continuance of the original imprisonment. Whenever they choose to do so, they may seize him and deliver him up to his discharge; and if it cannot be done at once, they may imprison him until it can be done. They may exercise their rights in person or by agent. They may pursue him into another state; may arrest him on the Sabbath; and if necessary, may break and enter his house for that purpose. The seizure is not made by virtue of due process. None is needed. It is likened to the arrest by the Sheriff of an escaped prisoner.
CLEAR SPRINGS - EAST OF THE DIVIDE
‘Man that is born of a woman hath but a short time to live, and is full of misery. He cometh up, and is cut down, like a flower; he fleeth as it were a shadow, and never continueth in one stay. In the midst of life we are in death: of whom may we seek for succor, but of thee, O Lord, who for our sins art justly displeased? Yet, O Lord God most holy, O Lord most mighty, O holy and most merciful Savior, deliver us not into the bitter pains of eternal death. Thou knowest, Lord, the secrets of our hearts; shut not thy merciful ears to our prayer; but spare us, Lord most holy, O God most mighty, O holy and merciful Savior, thou most worthy Judge eternal, suffer us not, at our last hour, for any pains of death, to fall from thee.’
Wasn’t it enough a man had to die without having such depressing words spoken over his grave? Bodie thought. He heard what the minister was saying but felt the words were unnecessarily gloomy. He was not a religious man himself, finding too much darkness in the delivered words, and the visions of an afterlife that didn’t hold out too much promise.
Overhead the sky had a leaden look to it and a dry wind was blowing in across the landscape. Gritty dust rattled against the cemetery’s headstones and tugging at clothes. Bodie hunched his shoulders against the wind. He was holding his hat in his hands, pulled to his chest, his head bent forward. He was dressed in black, even down a black shirt and string tie, and that was purely a mark of respect for the departed…
~*~
Gunnar Olsen, the sheriff of Clear Springs, had been a friend of Bodie for some time. Olson had been a lawmen for many years. A solid, dependable man who had forsaken carrying a gun in the last five years of his life. His decision caused a deal of debate around Clear Springs and some open criticism, but Olson refused to back down. His choice proved to be sound. The town had never been overly rowdy and the only time when it did was when local ranch hands came in at month end, sometimes weekends, to let off steam and spend their pay in the local saloons and restaurants. When trouble did show itself Gunnar Olsen would step in and settle it either with words, or if things became a little stressed, his big fists.
Olsen had been a big man, in all respects, standing over six feet tall, with a powerful build. Thick blonde hair and blue eyes, he was a good looking man and his deep voice still held the cadence of his Swedish background, despite having lived in America since he was five years old. He had become a lawman simply because he had a deep feeling for maintaining it. Prior to pinning on a badge Olsen had been a skilled wheelwright, running a successful business in Clear Springs. When he was offered the position of deputy he had immediately accepted the job, siding the then sheriff, Rafe Thomas. In the five years he was deputy Olsen maintained his business and when he was elected fulltime lawman on Thomas’s retirement, he divided his time between his business and the law.
From day one Olsen put his mark on the way he ran the sheriff’s office. He was a hands on lawman, working day and night to keep the town safe. He was unmarried and devoted himself to his chosen way of life. His stern but fair way quickly earned him the respect of the community. He only had to show his face when trouble showed itself to have those involved back down. Olsen had a natural affinity for dealing with anyone stepping out of line. It was inevitable he would came up against those who wanted to step over the line, and anyone who did face the big lawman soon found they had taken on more than was sensible. Olsen talked his way out of trouble on more than one occasion, despite sometimes having to face someone with a gun. If his words didn’t do the trick, Olsen’s big fists would end the dispute quickly. Though this seemed to be a satisfactory way, there were those who were vocal in their opposition. They felt Olsen was walking a fine line and one day something would happen he wouldn’t be able to deal with.
In the end their fears were proven to be correct.
When Ty McLennan showed up in Clear Springs, a thirty-five year old who could talk his way out of anything, seemingly looking for work and proving to the town he was a handy man to have around when he sided with Olsen during a situation in one of the town’s saloons. It had been one of the few times Gunnar Olsen found himself close to being outnumbered when a trio of out-of-town drifters had caused problems. Olsen had tried to calm the ruckus down, but already having drunk too much, the newcomers had refused to back down and Olsen found himself being threatened by a drawn gun in the hand of a belligerent, loudmouthed opponent. It might have gone badly for Olsen if it had not been for McLennan stepping in, swinging an unexpected fist that had put the gunman to his knees. Although the troublemaker lost his gun he rounded on McLennan and they traded blows. By this time Olsen had seen he was out from under the gun and was able to deal with the other pair in his usual manner. It was over in minutes. The three rowdies were floored, their weapons taken away, and with McLennan’s help Olsen dragged them over to the jail and locked them in the cells.
Their seemed an inevitability to what happened next. The town fathers convened a hasty meeting and it came up with the suggestion to appoint McLennan as deputy sheriff. Olsen had to admit he had been placed in a difficult position and if McLennan had not been there a tragedy might have occurred. Ty McLennan became deputy sheriff and slipped into the role with ease. Yet there was something about his new assistant that unsettled Gunnar Olsen. He couldn’t put his finger on it, kept his thoughts to himself, but watched and waited because he was sure there was more to the man.
Over the next couple of weeks McLennan took to his new job with enthusiasm, backing Olsen whenever the need arose. It seemed on the surface that the town’s new deputy was fitting in nicely. Even Olsen couldn’t find fault with the man’s behavior, yet he still held a lingering doubt that he could not dismiss.
With roundup time bringing in extra hands for the outlying ranches new faces kept appearing in Clear Springs and the influx meant busier times when hungry and thirsty men came to town, especially at weekends. The saloons, all four, found themselves busy and none of them were complaining. They stayed open late, as did the couple of restaurants along Main Street.
It was to be expected trouble would show itself. Cowhands worked hard and played hard. They came to town determined to have a good time. Liquor flowed. So did emotions and it had to bust free, leading to fallouts. The majority ended amicably over another round of drinks. Some stepped over the line and whisky-fueled tempers erupted. Blows were thrown. Some missed their mark. Others did not.
~*~
It was mid-morning. The early rush was past so the bank was quiet. There was only one customer when Ty McLennan walked in, nodding at the tellers behind the counter. His appearance was accepted. He had been doing this for the weeks, his armed presence a comfort as the big safe behind the counter held money awaiting the monthly payday for the local ranches and the timber company situated a few miles out of town in the hills. Additional cash had been shipped in a few days earlier, arriving at the Clear Springs rail depot two days