Hold On Mr. Larabee

Disclaimer: The Magnificent Seven and characters are the property of MGM Television, The Mirsch Corporation, Trilogy Entertainment Group and CBS. No profit has been made off of this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 8

The taunting that had been going on in the barn ceased with the sound of a gun shot outside. Buck watched as Frank moved hurriedly to the barn door to peer out, glancing at Vin and Ezra, he could see right away the fear in their eyes.

Turning back to his prisoners Frank smirked, "Guess Ol' Dick got tired of your friend. Figure you three will be joining him in hell soon. I wonder which one of you will get to be first."

There was total silence for all of about a minute and then Ezra chimed in, "Excuse me, but how are you positive that your nefarious brother was the one who did the shooting? For all we know, Mr. Larabee got the jump on him and is at this moment working to effect our release."

Frank just laughed and slapped at his knee, "You're a funny one, Gambler. Someone get a jump on Dick? I do not think so, he's killed at least a thirty men down in Mexico and he's gonna do that here too, but bigger. We'll be famous; it'll be parties every night, all the women you want, and all the liquor you can drink." At Buck's guffaw he turned to face the ladies man. "What? You think that's not going to happen?"

Buck gave him a toothy grin with none of his usual kindness, "You think Ol' Dick's just gonna let you ride on his coat tails? You'll be there to do his bending and stretching, he won't share his fame with you. Oh, and you think you'll get the women? You might, after he's done with them."

Frank stalked up to Buck and stabbed a finger into the ladies man's chest, "Why do you continue to speak when I've told you to stop? Can't you follow orders?" throwing his hands up in the air, he moved over to where the gambler was tied up, "Here's what we're gonna do. Each time the magpie over there opens his mouth I punish you; that seem like an idea to you?"

"I don't know what you hope to accomplish with that. Mr. Wilmington has always been loquacious, can't seem to help himself." Ezra grinned when Frank looked at him in confusion.

"Speak English you candied ass peacock." Frank's eyes narrowed as Ezra smirked.

"I am speaking English. Would you prefer it if I said he was talkative, chatty, glib, oh how about voluble or garrulous. I can go on all day if you like." The gambler gave the horse thief the most innocent expression he could muster.

Roaring in anger, Frank grabbed Ezra's face in one hand and his knife in the other, "I'm gonna cut your tongue right outta your head. Then let's see how chatty you are." Frank brought the knife to Ezra's lip and squeezed his face tighter forcing a moan of pain from the man.

A banging on the door to the barn broke up the pandemonium that was occurring in the inside, Buck and Vin halted their protests as the door vibrated again, the hinges loudly protesting their abuse.

Frank re-sheathed his knife and gave Ezra a hard pat to his cheeks, "You get to keep your tongue for now, you better be thankful for the interruption." The banging echoed through the barn's interior again, "Hold your horses, I'm a comin'. Had some business to tend to."

As the barn door was opened, Dick Peters struggled in with his captive. Laughing as he made his way to the center of the building. His left hand still tangled in the gunsliger's hair, dragging him along. Chris had a desperate grip on Peters's wrist trying to keep his hair from being pulled out from the roots. When Peters finally released the him he fell to the ground in a boneless heap, unable to move; his precious store of energy depleted.

Dick turned to his brother, "Well, the gang's all here. Shall we begin or should we partake of the evening's feast? Appears we interrupted their supper plans."

"Let's eat first, don't want the food to get too cold." Frank answered as he glanced down at the injured man at his feet. Frank used his foot to flip him over onto his back, "Course I'm not sure this one's gonna make it that long. Probably shouldn't have shot him, not much life left in him."

Dick clapped Frank on the shoulder, "That's why I've got you little brother, see you're gonna go on up to that fancy house, put us together two beautiful dinner plates and bring down some supplies to patch him up."

Frank looked at his brother in frustration, "Me? How come I gotta put him back together? You shot him, you put him back together. We're supposed to be partners in this, fifty-fifty."

"Come, come little brother, I shot him, that's fifty percent, you fix him, that's another fifty percent." Dick explained as he pulled Chris's Peacemaker from the waistband of his pants. Walking over to one of the lanterns he looked at it in the light, letting out a whistle, "Nice piece of work you got here Larabee, think I'll add it to my collection." He grinned at the gunslinger, who was starting to show signs of life. Stalking over, he pressed Chris back to the ground with his boot, "Now Frank, I ain't telling you again. Go get the food and supplies or I'll make you sorry Ma ever birthed you."

Frank snarled at his brother, but said nothing more as he slammed out of the barn and into the night; his brother's laughter following him.

Dick turned back to the others once Frank was gone, "Now as I see it, you all are my opportunity to make a name for myself in these parts. Heck, seems to me you all are widely known round here and I'm gonna become famous by putting each and everyone of ya seven in the ground."

Buck snorted and both Vin and Ezra cringed, "Seems to me you can't count, you've only got four of us. Plus out here, you don't have any witnesses to the killings."

"Buck!" Ezra and Vin shouted, the man was gonna get them all killed; quick like.

"You should heed your friends' warning; you'll live longer that way." Dick sauntered over to Buck, looking him up and down. They were of a size, maybe he'd have to fight this man before he killed him. As he thought on it, he liked that idea better and better. Yes, he thought to himself. That idea definitely had possibility. Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement on the floor, turning he could see that the gunslinger trying to get up, "You just don't know when to stay down do you?"

Chris warily watched Peters as he finally gained his feet. The hole in his chest felt like a burning inferno and he was as weak as a newborn colt, to compound matters, an incessant ringing had begun in his ears. "Do you really think you can get away with this?" Chris rasped out, taking an unsteady step back.

Grinning widely, Peters drew closer to the gunslinger, "So far it seems to be working."

Vin watched anxiously as Chris wavered where he was standing, it appeared that only pure cussedness was keeping him on his feet. The tracker continued to work at his bindings and had to steel his expression when he felt them start to slip.

Frank startled them all when he banged into the barn, laden down with food from the kitchen and a sack full of supplies, "Got what you wanted, Dick. Them biscuits sure are good; brought the whole plate down with butter and honey."

Dick Peters' attention remained on Chris, "Bring me that chair over in the corner and set it right in the middle here." Quick as lightning he lunged at the gunslinger, Chris managed to land a few well placed punches before Peters had him back down on the ground; face in the dirt.

Peters had one hand on the nape of his neck and a knee pressed into his lower back. Chris fought for all he was worth. When Peters leaned over to grab his free arm, Chris somehow managed to grab the horse thief's ear. Peters screamed at the top of his lungs and he lost his grip on the gunslinger and Chris was able to scramble onto his back. Bringing his booted foot up with as much force as he could he landed a kick to Peters' crotch; dropping him to the ground like a felled tree. Wheezing heavily Chris pulled himself away as Frank rushed in to check in his brother.

Dick Peters clutched at his privates and rolled on the ground, he pulled in a breath and hissed out, "Grab him!"