The Man with the Iron Badge Read Online Free PDF Page A

of this.”
    â€œI’ll see you when I get back,” Clint said.
    â€œAs always, watch your back, my friend.”
    The two men shook hands, and Clint left the saloon.

TEN
    Nate Starkweather watched his men empty the bank safe and fill some bank bags with coin and paper money. Another of his men had the bank employees and a few customers backed against a wall and was keeping them covered.
    Nate was staring out the front window, waiting for the arrival of the law. He liked nothing better than watching lawmen run toward him, with the sun glinting off their badges. His mentor, the Mexican gunman Jose Batista, had told him to use that reflected light as targets, and he had spent his life doing just that.
    â€œHere they come!” he shouted. “Right on time. Are we ready?”
    â€œReady, Boss!” his number one man, Santino, called out.
    He had one man out front holding the horses, four men with him in the bank. Three of them came out from behind the tellers’ cages with money bags.
    â€œLet’s go!” Starkweather called out.
    He opened the door and ran out, his men behind him. He heard a shot from inside the bank, but didn’t let that concern him. His only concern was the approaching lawmen, running with their guns out.
    â€œHold it right there!” the sheriff yelled.
    â€œMount up!” Starkweather shouted to his men.
    As his men grabbed their horses and mounted up, Starkweather stepped clear of the excited animals so he could have a clear shot. He drew his gun and fired two shots. With unerring accuracy each of his bullets drilled a hole in one of the tin stars pinned to the chests of the lawmen. Both men staggered and went down.
    Starkweather holstered his gun, mounted his horse, and led his men out of town. He was careful to have all of his men ride their horses right over the bodies of the sheriff and his deputy.
    The townspeople of Lost Mesa, New Mexico, watched helplessly as the gang rode out of town.
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    Nate Starkweather waited until they were several miles outside of town before he raised his hand to halt the gang’s progress.
    â€œThink we should be stoppin’ here, Boss?” one of the men asked.
    â€œYeah,” another man said. “What about a posse?”
    â€œThere won’t be any posse,” Santino said. “Not for a while. They will need to appoint a new sheriff first.”
    Starkweather took the time to replace his spent shells with live ones, then holstered his gun.
    â€œEvans, gimme your bag,” he said.
    Paul Evans looked reluctant to part with his bag of money, but Santino went over and grabbed it from him, carried it to Starkweather.
    â€œWalker,” Starkweather said. “Your bag.”
    â€œSure, Boss.”
    Walker dismounted, and carried his bag to his boss.
    â€œSantino, you take Ryan’s bag.”
    Santino did as he was told. Now he had two bags tied to his saddle, and so did Starkweather. A man named Leo Vail had the fifth bag.
    â€œOkay, now we split up,” Starkweather said. “The four of you ride west, while Santino and me ride north. Then we all circle around and meet in that canyon. Got it?”
    â€œWe got it,” Vail said. “Let’s go, boys.”
    Walker and Evans remounted, and the four men turned their horses and rode west.
    â€œWhy did you let them keep one bag?” Santino asked. “They might just keep going.”
    â€œDid you see which bag I left them?” Starkweather asked. “Vail filled it from the tellers’ cages. There ain’t enough there for a five-way split.”
    â€œMaybe they’ll fight over it,” Santino said. “End up killing each other.”
    â€œNobody but Vail is worth a damn,” Starkweather said.
    â€œHow smart can he be if he filled his bag from the tellers’ cages?”
    â€œBecause he knew I’d let him keep that bag,” Starkweather said. “If the others try to take it from him,