Macarastor

Cord moved to the near wall of the dugout and grabbed some rawhide thongs hanging on a spike. Moving to the harmonica man, who was still in a heap where Asa had shoved him, Cord dropped the thongs next to him and ordered him to bind Oren’s hands. When it was done, Cord moved behind the group and issued his next command: “Now then, outside. And don’t get any notions.” Macara opened the door and the group moved outside as ordered, with Cord and Macara bringing up the rear. When they were well into the clearing, Cord raised his revolver in the air and discharged one shot. It split the quiet night loudly and, seconds later, elicited the reaction Cord desired. With a flurry of feet and weapons, the occupants of the camp turned out of their quarters in a confused but ready state. As their eyes adjusted to the moonlight, Cord’s voice stopped them where they were. “I’m a United States Marshal. I’m here to arrest Oren Rudabaugh. Drop your weapons and stand down.” “Get him, boys.” Asa boomed. The disjointed group began to advance. Cord’s gun immediately went to within an inch of Asa’s head. “I meant what I said, you idiot.” Cord cocked the pistol loudly. “Now call them off.” Asa considered for a second and thought better of the action. His opportunity would come at another time. “Wait. Back off.” he called. The group stopped as one. “Toss the guns away, as far as you can.” Cord commanded. Pistols and rifles landed a safe distance away as the group complied. Cord lowered the hammer on the revolver and directed the entire group to the corral. “Is the Tremayne horse here?” he asked Macara. Macara looked over the remuda and picked out the Tremayne horse. “That bay there.” he answered, pointing. Cord grabbed the arm of the harmonica man. “Saddle that bay and tie her to the corral.” He then turned to Macara. “Cason, will you get our horses please?” “Aye.” Macara said as he started out for the brush. The harmonica man quickly saddled the bay and tied her off to a corral post as instructed. By that time, Macara was returning with their mounts. Cord’s next order had the harmonica man open the corral gate once again. His first shot had stirred the animals and made then skittish. Another two shots now drove the horses through the open corral gate and into the night as far away from the disturbing noise as they could get. Asa pondered Cord’s actions and concluded that he was dealing with a worthy adversary, one who seemed to have all the plans in place to pull this off. But this was not over. Not hardly. Cord ordered Oren into the saddle of the bay horse, and then he and Macara mounted. Cord’s last statement was directed to Asa: “If anyone tries anything, my prisoner is a dead man.” and the trio started off to leave the camp. Once they were out of sight, Asa cried out: “Go find them horses.” He stooped down and grabbed a rock from the ground and angrily flung it in the general direction that Cord and his party had taken. As the group scurried off to locate and retrieve the horses, Asa took two steps forward and called: “This ain’t hardly over, lawman. You hear me? This ain’t over.”