And Kill Them All Read Online Free PDF

Didn’t leave me with any definite date of return, tell the God’s truth.”
    Boston Teal let out a derisive snort. “Gutless pile of runny dung heard brother Irby was on the way. Just used his ole lady’s passin’ as a coward’s excuse to blow out of town. Man’s yeller as mustard, by God. Got henhouse ways and smells of feathers.”
    Cosner grabbed a half-filled tin cup from the top of his desk then threw it across the room at Teal’s cell door. The battered utensil bounced off the rough-textured iron straps right in front of the mouthy prisoner’s face. Coffee flew all over the grinning, foot-shot bank robber. The unexpected bath really set him off and the water-headed jackass jumped up on the cell door and hung there like some kind of bug-eyed tree squirrel. Gritted his teeth and went to growling and slobbering in the manner of a hydrophobic dog.
    Cosner whacked the desktop with an open palm. Flat-handed lick sounded like an angry kid whacked an empty barrel with a long stick. He eyeballed the jailbird and yelped, “Stop that goddamned racket, you gallin’ son of a bitch. Fine woman’s gone to her heavenly re-ward, and you got nothing to offer on the matter.”
    Red-faced, purple-necked, and crazy-looking as hell, Teal screwed his head sidewise. Eyes a bulging, he glared through one of the openings between the iron straps in front of his face. “Well, I can sure as hell say this. You boys don’t let me outta this here animal cage, and damned quick, bet none of you’ll live much longer. Figure the only reason brother Irby ain’t stormed this sorry excuse for a hoosegow and freed me already’s a ’cause he thought an idiot like you might well go and shoot me for sure ’fore he could get in here and get me out.”
    The deputy jumped to his feet again and shook an angry finger Teal’s direction. “Well, if that’s what your brother thinks, he’s right. If’n he’d a put one booted foot over my threshold, I’d a blasted the bejabberous hell out you first, then him, by God. Same fate applies for any fires he might attempt to set.”
    Teal spit a glob of snotty phlegm onto the dirty floor just outside his cramped enclosure. Shook the door of the cell by rocking back and forth from his hanging position. Yelled, “You ain’t gonna live long enough to shoot anybody, you stump-jumpin’ hick. Bet all three a you badge-wearin’ bastards’ll be deader’n a trio of them boys what fell at the Alamo ’fore it gets good dark.”
    Boz turned and, very politely, I thought, said, “Shut the hell up, Teal. I’m already tired of the sound of your voice. Every time you open your mouth, it sounds like a crosscut saw going through petrified oak knots. And, hell’s bells, I just walked in the door.”
    Teal dropped to the floor with a heavy, one-footed thump. Twisted around on his good kicker like a crippled terpsichorean at a hoedown. Took aim and spit again. “Well, screw you and the horse you rode in on, you law-bringin’ son of a bitch.”
    On a personal level, I thought Teal’s jail-cell bravado grossly misplaced. Man just didn’t seem to realize the gravity of his arrogant mistake. Not even when Boz strode over to the cell’s chained-and-padlocked door. My amigo’s spurs clinked and jingled when he came to a grinning stop and motioned for the prisoner to come closer.
    All I can say on the matter, now, is that Boston Teal had to have possessed just about as much intelligence as a south Louisiana cantaloupe, when he dragged his damaged foot back over to the tiny cubicle’s door and leaned forward. I couldn’t help but grin as I had no doubt as to what was about to happen. Tell the honest to God truth, I felt a sense of real joy at the prospect of the entertainment in the works.
    Teal turned his scruffy noggin sidewise. Sneered when he got right up