Buffalo Soldiers (The Gunsmith, No. 362)
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Former slave Bass Reeves is now a deputy marshal. With the help of Clint Adams, he's tracking a gang of masked bank robbers, who once rode as Buffalo Soldiers. What made the heroes of the cavalry go bad?
but he pushed her hand away and said, “Get behind the bed and stay down!” She did as he said, her eyes beginning to focus again. She didn’t know why he was pushing her down behind the bed, but she could guess. He grabbed his gun and stood against the wall, behind the door, held his fingers to his lips. She thought he looked absolutely beautiful like that… TWENTY-ONE When the door slammed open, Clint did two things: he pushed Julie out of the way, and drew his gun from the holster on the
to kill…who? A dignitary? Or just a lot of people?” “Or both.” “All right, then,” Clint said. “We keep going.” “I never thought anything else,” Bass Reeves said. Corporal Jefferson accepted a beer from Carl Weatherby, who then handed another to Ben Webster. “Siddown, Carl,” Jefferson said. Weatherby sat with his own beer. “They shoulda been here by now, Corporal,” Weatherby said. “Don’t worry, Carl,” Jefferson said. “The sarge will be here. He gave us the short way so we’d be here waitin’
said. “You’re famous.” “Well, you’re a well-known black lawman,” Clint said, “and these are black men.” “Black men,” Reeves said. “Also black lawmen. What do they have against me?” “I guess that’s something we’re going to have to ask them,” Clint said. “Take a walk,” Washington told Jefferson. “What?” “Take a walk around town, see what you can see,” the sergeant said. “What if they see me?” “If they do, and they stop you, bring them here,” Washington said. “Tell them I’m here.” “What if
can’t stay together, or do our next jobs together. We must make it hard for Bass Reeves to track us.” “Bass Reeves?” one of the soldiers said, his eyes popping. “Yes,” Washington said. “He killed Rafe and Lou.” The men exchanged glances and a buzz went through them. “Then we should kill him,” one of them said. “And we will,” Washington said. “Believe me, the time will come, but I’ll say when. But right now I wanna talk to Jefferson and Edwards. I’ll explain to them what we’re gonna do, and
what the sarge said we should do?” “No,” Edwards said. He stared at the two younger men. From appearances, he could have been forty or seventy. In truth, he was close to sixty, had spent many years in the saddle, even as a slave. He had a lot of bitterness in him, which was why he was following Sergeant Washington on these raids. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want that Bass Reeves on my tail,” Edwards said, “so we’re gonna go back and take care of him.” “The sergeant said he’d tell us