Wild West Podcast

Chapter 9: Riding into Danger and Romance: Buck Laramie's Face-off Against Killer Rollins and the Surprise Love Confession in the Wild West

May 09, 2020 Michael King
Wild West Podcast
Chapter 9: Riding into Danger and Romance: Buck Laramie's Face-off Against Killer Rollins and the Surprise Love Confession in the Wild West
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Ever wondered what would happen when a hardened cowboy crosses paths with a notorious gang? Get ready to ride into the Wild West with Buck Laramie, the brave protagonist of the gripping story, "Killer Unmasked." Left to face Eli Harrison's gang alone, Buck puts everything on the line to protect Bob Anders. However, a shocking revelation awaits him - the infamous Killer Rollins is responsible for his brother's death. But fear not! Buck's good friend, Slim Jones, and the sheriff swoop in to save the day. A thrilling tale of bravery, betrayal, and justice awaits you.

But hold your horses! There's more to it than just the adrenaline-pumping action. We take an emotional detour with the reunion of long-lost friends, Buck Laramie and Judy Anders. In the midst of chaos, their meeting brings a surprising warmth, opening up old memories, hard truths, and unexpected feelings. Tune in to uncover the intriguing turn of events as Buck and Judy revisit their past and confess their love for each other. Amidst the jokes and speculations about a possible marriage, one question remains - What would the perfect wife for Buck look like? Join us for an episode that masterfully combines adrenaline-filled action, heartwarming romance, and delightful humor.

THE END

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Speaker 1:

This story was originally published in the October 1935 issue of Western Aces Starting life as an unsold submission written by pulp author Chandler Whipple. Popular writer Robert E Howard offered to rework and improve the tale, later published in Bookform and in other places as the Last Ride Wild West Podcast produced the audio version of the original transcript as it was first published. This story is in the public domain. Chapter 9 Killer Unmasked.

Speaker 1:

Laramie was charging for the rear of the house before the triumphant shout ended. Anders would never agree to buying freedom for that gang to save his own life and Laramie knew that whatever truce might be agreed upon, harrison would never let the sheriff live. The same thought motivated the savage attack of Slim Jones and the Bar X-Men on the front door. But that door happened to be of unusual strength. Nothing short of a log-battering ram could smash it. The rear door was of ordinary thin paneling. Bracing his good right shoulder to the shock, laramie rammed his full charging weight against the rear door. He crashed inward and he catapulted into the room gun. First he had a fleeting glimpse of the swarly Mexican wheeling from the doorway that led into the main room and then he ducked and jerked the trigger as a knife sang past his head. The roar of the 45 shook the narrow room and the knife thrower hit the planks and lay twitching With a lunging stride.

Speaker 1:

Laramie was through the door into the main room. He caught a glimpse of men standing momentarily frozen, glaring up from their work of tying Bob Anders to a chair Eli Harrison, another Mexican, and Mark Raleigh. For an infantisimal tick of time. The scene held Then blurred with gun smoke as the 45's roared death across the narrow confines. Hot lead was a coal of hell burning its way through the flesh of Laramie's already wounded shoulder. Bob Anders lurched out of the chair, rolling clumsily toward the wall. The room was a mad welter of sounded smoke. In the last light of gathering dusk, many half rolled behind the partial cover of a cast iron stove.

Speaker 1:

Drawing his second gun, the Mexican fled to the bunk room, howling his broken left arm flopping. Mark Raleigh backed after him in a stumbling run, shooting as he went. Crouched inside the door, he glared, awaiting his chance. But Harrison, already badly wounded, had gone berserk, distaining cover or touched with madness, he came storming across the room, shooting as he came, spattering blood at every step. His eyes flamed through the drifting fog of smoke like those of a rabid wolf. Laramie raised himself to his full height and faced him, searing lead wind past his ear, jerked at his shirt, stung his thigh. What his own gun was burning red and Harrison was swaying in his stride like a bull which feels the Matador's steel. His last shot flamed almost in Laramie's face and then, at close range, a bullet split the cold heart of the Devil of San Leon and the greed and ambitions of Eli Harrison were over Laramie, with one loaded cartridge left in his last gun, leaned back against the wall out of range of the bunk room.

Speaker 1:

�come on out, raleigh�. He called �Harrison's dead. Your game's played out�. The hidden gunman spat like an infuriated cat. �no, my game ain't played out�, he yelled in a voice edged with blood.

Speaker 1:

Madness. �not till I've wiped you out, you mangy stray. But before I kill you, I want you to know that you ain't the first Laramie I've sent to hell. I'd have thought you'd knowed me, in spite of these whiskers. �i'm Rawlins, you fool. I'm Raleigh Rawlins� that plugged your horse-thief brother Luke in Santa Maria.

Speaker 1:

Rollins snarled Laramie suddenly white. No wonder you knowed me. Yes, rollins howled the gunman. I'm the one that made friends with Luke Laramie and got him drunk till he told me all about this hideout and the trails across the desert. Then I picked a fight with Luke when he was too drunk to stand and killed him to keep his mouth shut. And what you gonna do about it? I'm gonna kill ya. You hell, buzzard, gritted Laramie, blurching away from the walls as Rollins came frothing through the door with both guns blazing.

Speaker 1:

Laramie fired once from the hip. His last bullet ripped through Killer Rollins' warped brain. Laramie looked down on him as he died with his spurred heels, drumming a death march on the floor. Frantic feet behind him brought him around to see a livid, swarly face convulsed with fear and hate, a brown arm lifting a razor edge knife. He had forgotten the Mexican. He threw up his empty pistol to guard the downward sweep of the sharp blade. Then, once more, the blast of a six gun shook the room. Jose Martinez of Chihuahua lifted one scream of invocation and blasphemy at some forgotten Aztec god as his soul went speeding its way to hell.

Speaker 1:

Laramie turned and stared stupidly, through the smoke, blurred dusk, at a tall, slim figure holding a smoking gun. Laramie turned and stared stupidly, through the smoke, blurred dusk, at a tall, slim figure holding a smoking gun. Others were pouring in through the kitchen. So brief had been the desperate fight that the men who raced around the house at the first bellow of the guns had just reached the scene. Laramie shook his head day-sadly. Slim, he muttered. See if Bob's hurt, not me. The sheriff answered for himself. Struggling up to a sitting posture by the wall, I fell out of the chair and rolled out a line when the lead started singing cut me loose, somebody. Cut him loose, slim, muttered Laramie, I'm kinda dizzy.

Speaker 1:

Stark's silence followed the roar of the Six Guns, silence that hurt Buck Laramy's eardrums. Like a man in a daze, he staggered to a chair and sank down heavily upon it. Scarcely knowing what he did, he found himself muttering the words of a song he hated. When the folks heard that Brady was dead, they all turned out, all dressed in red, marched down the street, sang a song Brady's gone to hell, with his stetson on. He was hardly aware when Bob Anders came and cut his blood-soaked shirt away and washed his wounds, dressing them as best he could, with strips torn from his own shirt and whiskey from a jug found on the table. The bite of the alcohol roused Laramy from the days that enveloped him and a deep swig of the same medicine cleared his dizzy head, laramy rose stiffly. He glanced about to the dead men staring glassily in the lamp light shuttered and wretched suddenly at the reek of the blood that blackened the planks. Let's get out in the open.

Speaker 1:

As they emerged into the cool dusk they were aware that the shooting had ceased. A voice was bawling loudly at the head of the canyon. Through the distance made the words unintelligible. Slim came running back through the dusk. They're making a parley, bob, he reported. They want to know if they'll be given a fair trial if they surrender. I'll talk to them. Rest, you, keep undercover.

Speaker 1:

The sheriff worked toward the head of the canyon until he was within airshot of the men in and about the tunnel and shouted Are you all brazed, ready to give in? What's your terms? Balled back the spokesman, recognizing the sheriff's voice. I ain't makin' terms. You'll all get a fair trial in an honest court. You better make up your minds. I know there ain't a lot of you left. Harrison's dead is. So is Raleigh. I got forty men outside this canyon and enough inside behind you to wipe you out. Throw your guns out where I can see them and come out with your hands high. I'll give you till I count ten.

Speaker 1:

And as he began to count, rifles and pistols began clattering on the bare earth and haggard, bloodstained powder, blackened men rose from behind the rocks with their hands in the air and came out of the tunnel in the same manner. We quits, announced the spokesman. Four of the boys are laying back against the rocks, two shot up to move under their own power, one's got a broke leg, whereas horse fell on him. Some of the rest of us need to have wounds dressed. Laramie and Slam in the punchers came out of cover with guns trained on the weary outlaws and at a shout from Anders, the men outside came streaming through the tunnel, whooping vengefully no mob stuff, warn Anders. As the men grabbed the prisoners and bound their hands none too gently. Get those four wounded men out of the rocks and we'll see what we can do for them.

Speaker 1:

Presently, a curious parade came filing through the tunnel into the outer valley where twilight still lingered, and as Laramie emerged from the dark tunnel, he felt as if his dark and sinister pass had fallen from him like a worn out coat. One of the four wounded men who had been brought through the tunnel on crude stretchers, rigged out of rifles and coats, was in a talkative mood. Fear and the pain of his wound had broken his nerve entirely and he was overflowing with information. I'll tell you anything you want to know. Put in a good word for me at my trial and I'll spill the works. He declined, ignoring the silent glances of his heartier companions.

Speaker 1:

How did Harrison get mixed up in this deal, demanded the sheriff. Mixed Hell. He planned the whole thing. He was cashier in a bank when the Laramies robbed it the real ones, I mean. If it hadn't been for that robbery, old Brown would soon found out that Harrison was stealing from him. But the Laramies killed Brown and gave Harrison a chance to cover his tracks. They got blamed for the dough he stole, as well as the money they'd actually taken. That gave Harrison an idea how to be king of Sandleon. The Laramies had acted as scapegoats for him once and he aimed to use him again. But he had to wait until he could get to be president of the bank and had taken time to round up a gang. So he'd ruin the ranchers, give mortgages and finally get their outfits and then send his coyotes out of the county and be King of San Leon broke in Laramie.

Speaker 1:

We know that part. Where'd Rawlins come in? Harrison knowed him years ago on the Rio Grande. When Harrison aimed to raise his gang, he went to Mexico and found Rawlins. Harrison knowed the real Laramies had a secret hideout. So Rawlins made friends with Luke Laramie and we know all about that, interrupted Anders with a quick glance at Buck. Yeah Well, everything was bueno until a word came from Mexico that Buck Laramie was riding up from there. Harrison got skittish. He thought Laramie was coming to take toll for his brother so he sent Rawlins to waylay Laramie. Rawlins missed but later went to San Leon to try again. He shot you instead, anders. We heard it was out to get you anyway. You'd been prowling too close to our hideout to suit Harrison.

Speaker 1:

Harrison seemed to go kinda low-code when he first heard Laramie was heading this way. He made us pull that full stunt of a fake bankhold up to pull the wool over folks' eyes more than ever. Hell, nobody suspected him anyway. Then he risked coming out here, but he was panicky and wanted us to get ready to make a clean sweep tonight and pull out. When Laramie got away from us this morning, harrison decided he'd ride to Mexico with us. Well, when the fighting started, harrison and Rawly stayed out of sight, nothing they could do, and they hoped we'd be able to break out of the canyon. They didn't want to be seen and recognized. If it should turn out, laramie hadn't told anybody he was head of the gang. Harrison would be able to stay on then.

Speaker 1:

Preparations were being made to start back to San Leon with the prisoners when a sheepish looking delegation headed by Mayor Jim Watkins approached Laramie. Watkins hummed and hawed with embarrassment and finally blurted out with typical western bluntness Look here, laramie, we owe you something now and we're just as hot to pay our debts as you are to pay yours. Harrison had a small ranch out of ways from town which he ain't need no more and he ain't got no wares, so we can get it easy enough. We thought if you was aiming maybe to stay around San Leon, we'd like Powerful Well to make you a present of that ranch and kind of help you get start in the cow business. And we don't want the 50,000 water said you aimed to give to us. You wiped out that debt.

Speaker 1:

A curious morose-ness had settled over Laramie, a futile feeling of anti-climax and a bitter yearning. He did not understand. He felt old and weary, a desire to be alone and an urge to ride away over the rim of the world and forget. He did not even realize what it was. He wanted to forget. Thanks, he muttered. I'm paying that 50,000 back to the men it belonged to and I'll be moving on tomorrow. Where to? He made a helpless, uncertain gesture. You think it over? Urged Watkins turning away. Men were already mounting moving down the trail. Anders touched Laramie's sleeve let's go, buck, you need some attention on them wounds. Go ahead, bob, I'll be along. I want to kind of sit here and rest. Anders glanced sharply at him and then made a hidden gesture to some Jones and turned away.

Speaker 1:

The cavalcade moved down the trail in the growing darkness armed men riding toward a new era of peace and prosperity, gaunt, haggard bound men riding toward the penitentiary and the gallows. Laramie sat motionless, his empty hands hanging limp on his knees. A vital chapter in his life had closed, leaving him without a goal. He had kept his vow. Now he had no plan or purpose to take its place.

Speaker 1:

Slim Jones, standing nearby, not understanding Laramie's mood but not intruding on it, started to speak. Then both men lifted their heads at the unexpected rumble of wheels Buckboard ejaculated Slim. No buckboard ever come up that trail, snorted Laramie Once. Coming now. And who do you think? Whole Joel, by Galley, and look who he's driving. Laramie's heart gave a convulsive leap and then started pounding as he saw the slim, supple figure beside the old rancher. She pulled up near them and handed the lines to Slim who sprang to help her down. Biggest fight ever fit in San Leon County roared waters, and I didn't get a fire shot, Cuss a blasted leg anyway. He done a man's part anyway, joel, assured Laramie.

Speaker 1:

And then he forgot Joel waters entirely in the miracle of seeing Judy Anders standing before him, smiling gently, her hand outstretched, and the rising moon melting her soft hair to golden witchfire. I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you today, she said softly I've been bitter about things that were none of your fault. Don't apologize please. He stuttered inwardly, cursing himself because of his confusion. The touch of her slim, firm hand sent shivers through his frame and he knew all at once what that empty, gnawing yearning was, the more poignant now because so unattainable. You saved my neck. Nobody that does that needs to apologize.

Speaker 1:

You was probably right anyhow, or Bob went down the trail with the others. You must have missed him. I saw him and talked to him. She said softly. He said you were behind them. I came on expecting to meet you. He was momentarily startled. You came on to meet me. Oh, of course Joel would want to see how bad shut up I was. He achieved a ghastly excuse for a laugh. Mr Waters wanted to see you, of course, but I, buck, I wanted to see you too.

Speaker 1:

She was leaning close to him and looking up at him and he was dizzy with the fragrance and beauty of her and, in his dizziness, said the most inane and idiotic thing he possibly could have said To see me. He gurgled wildly what, what do you want to see me for? She seemed to draw away from him and her voice was a bit too precise. I wanted to apologize for my rudeness this morning, she said a little distantly. I said don't apologize to me.

Speaker 1:

He gasped you saved my life and I, I, judy, dang it. I love you. It was out, the amazing statement blurted out involuntarily. He was frozen by his own audacity, stunned and paralyzed, but she did not seem to mind. Somehow he found she was in his arms and numbly he heard her saying I love you too, buck. I've loved you ever since I was a little girl and we went to school together. Only, I've tried to force myself not to think of you for the past six years, but I've loved the memory of you. That's why it hurt me so to think that you'd gone bad, as I thought you had that horse I brought you. It wasn't all together because you helped Buck that I brought it to you. It was partly because my own feeling, oh Buck, to learn you're straight and honorable is like having a black shadow lifted from between us. You'll never leave me, buck, leave you.

Speaker 1:

Laramie gasped just long enough to find Watkins and tell him I'm taken up on his proposition he made me, and then I'm aiming on spending the rest of my life making you happy. The rest was lost in a perfectly natural, sound Kissin' Beam. Joel Waters, sitting in his buckboard and gently manipulating his wounded leg, reckon they'll be a Marion in these parts pretty soon. Slim, Don't tell me or figure none gettin' hitched, inquired Slim, pretending to misunderstand but grinning behind his hand. You go light on that sarcastic tone. I'm liable to get married any day now. It's just a matter of time to light aside. What type of woman would make me the best wife? The end.

The Last Ride
A Reunion and Apology
Unexpected Love Confession and Future Marriage