The Ranger of Austin: Hard Western Edition
Western by Heinz Spuarra
The volume of this book corresponds to 109 paperback pages.
On the way to Tucksville, the ranger Berry Flinn is shot and left lying. Old Tim Bander picks him up and reports on the many oddities in the place. That’s why Flinn is here. Two ranchers were killed and a stranger unleashed a gang of outlaws on the town. There is hot lead in the air.
Copyright
A CassiopeiaPress book: CASSIOPEIAPRESS, UKSAK E-Books, Alfred Bekker, Alfred Bekker presents, Casssiopeia-XXX-press, Alfredbooks, Uksak Sonder-Edition, Cassiopeiapress Extra Edition, Cassiopeiapress / AlfredBooks and BEKKERpublishing are imprints of
Alfred Bekker
© Roman by Author / COVER FIRUZ ASKIN
© this edition 2021 by AlfredBekker / CassiopeiaPress, Lengerich / Westphalia in arrangement with Edition Bärenklau, published by Jörg Martin Munsonius.
The imagined persons have nothing to do with actually living persons. Identical names are accidental and not intended.
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1
“Goddam, I would like to bet my nag that a Winchester just popped!” Muttered the old trapper Tim Bander and accelerated the gait of his horse with a thigh pressure.
The shaggy gelding had its ears upright. He immediately fell into a brisk trot that a stranger would hardly have believed the horse to be capable of. In addition, the animal seemed to have a sure instinct, because it changed direction and now stopped where the reverberation of the shot had come from without Tim Bander having done anything.
The trapper’s forehead was furrowed. Dark thoughts seemed to be circling behind it. “Who will have bitten the grass now?” He wondered. As he did so, his mind wandered back to the day when that pack of bandits suddenly appeared in Tucksville and ravaged the town. Gleen Cooper was the first among hers Bullets had to die. Nobody knew why. It was said that he should have drawn first but shot last against Burt, whose last name nobody knew who had come to town with all the other gunslingers.
A number of cowboys who wanted to take action against the gang were the next to fall by the wayside. On the other hand, the sheriff, Red Langon, had been a little more lucky. He had been lying in his office for four weeks with a shot leg, incapable of fighting.
And last week Owen Lander. What’s going to happen to poor Peggy? She can never cultivate the giant ranch herself!thought Tim Bander. As he did so, he scratched his wild beard and spat a wave of chewing tobacco into the scanty grass. At that moment the last hills that had surrounded Tim Bander until then receded. His bony hand pulled the reins in slightly, which immediately brought the gelding to a stop.
“It must have been here somewhere!” He stated, skidding out of the saddle. With both hands he shaded his eyes against the blinding evening sun. And then he saw what he had feared. Fifty yards in front of him was a horse on the old Poststrasse and nudged a lifeless bundle with his soft mouth, which lay in the dust of the road.
“He was caught!”the old man crunched, lowering his hands. The expression on his face had grown even darker. With a jerky movement he grabbed the reins of his body and pulled it behind him towards the place where the riderless horse was standing. “In a moment we’ll know who was next!
But Tim Bander was wrong. When he reached Poststrasse and stopped his step in front of the lifeless body, he looked into the face of a stranger. In the face of a young man he had never seen in Tucksville. The stranger might be twenty-five years old. He wore a black suede suit that was covered all over with dust. A wide ammunition belt, to which two low-hanging holster pockets were attached, wrapped around the hips. They had now twisted a little so that only the cocks of the heavy Colts could be seen. But these, and the long, sinewy hands, said enough to Tim Bander. Here lay a man in front of him who knew how to use his weapons. And if it hadn’t been for that frank face with the straw-blond hair, the hunter would have turned on the spot and put a few miles between himself and the stranger. After all, it was not good to be found in the company of a bandit, even if it was a dead man. But this man couldn’t be a criminal. No, there was definitely something missing, the cold, merciless trait that each of these killers had, who could no longer be wiped from their faces.
Suddenly Tim Bander noticed something else. The young man wasn’t dead. He had just tried to turn. A low moan came over his dry lips, and the soft mouth of the horse, which the old man hadn’t noticed until then, caressed his blond hair.
Suddenly there was movement in the hunter. He quickly took a canteen from his pannier, opened the cap, and leaned over the stranger. With one hand he tried to push the man’s teeth apart, while his other hand held the bottle and dripped small sips onto the injured man’s tongue.
After a few minutes, the eyelids of the one lying on the floor opened. A pair of calm, gray eyes stared blankly at Tim Bander.
“What is it?” Asked a cracked voice.
“It seems to me as if someone scratched you, Sonnyreplied the trapper, pulling off the wounded man’s shirt to check on his injury. “A shoulder wound; it seems you can survive it!
he added with a chuckle. He properly bandaged the young man and then dragged the heavy body a few steps away from the road. “The mail isn’t supposed to come in two days, but you don’t lie down on the street,” he said with a grin.
“Rex!” Called the man softly. Immediately his horse stood next to him. It neighed softly, as if it wanted to express its joy at the awakening of its master.
Tim Bander examined the animal carefully. And since he knew a lot about horses, he did not miss the mustang breed. “You’re riding a damn fast horse, stranger. It must have cost a lot of money. ”
The wounded man shook his head. “You overestimate my circumstanceshe smiled. “A friend gave it to me.
“Hm, the hunter rocked his head back and forth. “Tim Bander could use a friend like that too.
“Yeah, I did a lot for the man who runs a horse ranch over in Arizona. By the way, I’m called Berry Flinn. ”
Tim Bander’s gaze touched the wounded man’s holster again. “Are you looking for work here?” He asked casually
“Not directly. Berry Flinn smiled slightly. “But if you happen to want me to do a good job, I would do it when this is over
, he pointed to his shoulder, “surely thinking about it.”
“There will be a while longer with that. The wound doesn’t heal that quickly. Are you a cowboy? ”
“Not directly. Actually more hunters and trappers. ”
“We’d be colleagues, so to speak!”
“Hm! Only the game we hunt seems to be of somewhat different nature. ”
Berry Flinn’s face darkened again.
“Well, yes!the old man stated. “I almost thought you were a decent person. But men who carry guns like that, and two at that, are probably not born to work.
“There are more things than just looking after cows that can be called work,” said the wounded man, referring back to him. Then, exhausted, he sank his head into the grass and fell asleep a little later.
Tim Bander muttered to himself for a while. Finally he got up a little stiffly and looked under the nearby trees for dry branches to light a fire to prepare a night meal for himself and the injured person. The hunter himself could not say why he did this. How easy it was to just get on your horse and ride away.
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