Arkansas Smith Read Online Free PDF

immediately set about fixing up the cabin. He had checked on Will but found his friend in a deep, drug-induced sleep, his breathing sounding regular and strong as his body fought off the infection that was currently seeping poison through his body.
    He was going to make it: Arkansas was sure of it. He closed the bedroom door and set about righting the damage done to the place. The windows took a while to fix; the panes of glass Arkansas had bought in town slotted in perfectly to their frames, but Arkansas had to use small nails to secure the glass in place. Once that was done he started on the fence and after several hours of backbreaking but enjoyable work he had the corral together.
    He stood back, wiped sweat from his brow, and admired the results of his toil. The place looked as good as new and it would take a very sharp eye to find any sign of the destruction that had happened here only days ago.
    Arkansas went back inside to check on Will. Hefound him awake, sitting up in bed. His complexion looked better now that his usual colour had returned to his cheeks, but there was a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead and his grey hair looked slick. His eyes were clear with no sign of the bloodshot so evident only this morning.
    ‘How you feeling?’
    Will gave a weak smile. ‘Like I was stampeded on by a herd of buffalo and then some.’
    ‘That good?’ Arkansas said with a smile, and poured a cup of water from the pitcher on the upturned crate. He handed it to Will who now had the strength to take the glass and guide it to his own lips.
    ‘Thanks,’ Will said, after draining the entire cup. ‘I must be on the mend,’ he said. ‘I’m starving. I could eat a horse.’
    ‘I could fix some eggs and bacon,’ Arkansas said. ‘I picked up some supplies in town when I got the doc.’
    ‘Sounds good,’ Will said, and winced at a sudden wave of pain. ‘My side feels like it’s been kicked by a mule.’
    ‘A forty-four calibre mule,’ Arkansas replied, and was about to go and prepare the meal when he heard a scream from outside.
    A woman’s scream, shrill, panicked, terrified.
    Arkansas grabbed the Spencer and handed it to Will and then, his own Colt clear of leather, he ran outside.
     
    ‘You said he was dead.’ John Lance paced the small room, a cigar clamped between his teeth. ‘You saidyou’d killed him. And yet now you come here and tell me this?’ Small specks of ash fell from the cigar as he spoke. ‘Kill you two is what I should do.’
    Clay and Jim exchanged looks and then glanced towards Jake for assistance, but none was forthcoming. Jake, ranch foreman of the Double L, right-hand man to John Lance, and good friend of both Jim and Clay, stood there at the door and looked on impassively. If he was going to speak up for them he was taking his time about it.
    ‘Tell me about this Arkansas Smith,’ Lance said, and flicked the ash from his cigar.
    For a moment there was silence as both Jim and Clay fidgeted, neither of them wanting to take the initiative.
    ‘Well?’
    It was Jim who spoke. ‘That’s who he said he was. I don’t know if he is, or where he came from, or how he got here. All we know is that he took the doc out to McCord’s place.’
    The two men had ridden through the night and then spent the best part of the morning debating whether to tell Lance about the doctor and the newcomer who claimed to be Arkansas Smith. In the end they decided it was prudent to do so. They didn’t tell him though that they had doubled back and confronted Dr Cooter on the way back to town. The way things were going they decided to keep that to themselves.
    ‘You evidently didn’t kill McCord.’ Lance didn’t like this turn of events at all. If McCord had survived,which seemed likely, and named Jim and Clay as the men that had attacked him, then that would implicate his own good name. They worked for him and maybe the law would see that they had been acting on his orders when they had shot him. And what of