Buchanan's Revenge Read Online Free PDF

conver sation and continued his restless tour.
    The fifth day passed. The sixth. The seventh. Bu chanan was at the yard and waiting as dawn appeared on the morning of the eighth day. In his mind he went over the little s peech he had prepared for Rig, the one in which it he turned o ver the business and wished him luck. Rig would protest some, try to give him some money, but to no avai l . Then Rig would understand that the best thing he could do for him was to let him be on his way.
    Mid-morning came, p assed into afternoon, and there was no sign of Rig. The northbound stage pulled in but the driver had seen n othing of a red freight wagon.
    “Remem b e r passing it a week or so ago," the fellow said, “Going south with a load of cotton. That the one?"
    That was the one all right. Shadows grew longer, dusk fell, and a dis a ppointed Buchanan bought himself a quart o f bourbon and took it to the bar at the San Antonio Hotel. The bottle was some two fingers lighter when company arrived.
    "I see you're buying the first drink," Honest John Magee said pointedly.
    "Help yourself, mister," Buchanan told him glumly. "He'll be here tomorrow, sure."
    "Will he?"
    "Bright and early. He knows he's expected."
    Magee downed his drink, raised h i s eyes to Buchanan's face. "Bogan ever tell you about working for the Argus Express Company?" the broker asked in a careful voice.
    "Sure he did. Why?"
    "Ever say why he was fired?"
    "On account of the trouble he got into —killing that fellow in Hondo . . ."
    Magee was shaking his head. "He was fired a month before that happened," he said. "For stealing."
    Buchanan studied the speaker. "I hope you can back that up," he said quietly.
    "The law was never brought into it," Magee answered. "It was settled quietly by Amos Ferguson, who owned Argus, and Bogan. Seemed that Amos knew B o gan's father from someplace. A sheriff, isn't he?"
    Buchanan nodded. "What was Rig accused of stealing?"
    "A shipment of axes. A wagonload of them. His story was that he was jumped by agents between here and Hondo. A story that didn't hold up so far as old Amos was concerned."
    "Why not?"
    Magee poured them both a drink. "A fellow comes to you with patches in his britches and you give him a job for seven dollars a week. His room and board are five, and he buys himself some boots and work clothes. Then a load he's delivering gets hijacked. Axes. Easy to get rid of and impossible to identify."
    "So?"
    "So you happen to be over in Hondo one Saturday night. Sitting at a dark table in the back of this saloon is this seven-a-week driver of yours. He's sitting with this married woman and the/re drinking good whisky, not beer. And instead of those work pants and worn boots he's sporting an outfit that must have cost sixty dollars. And when he leaves the place he and the woman drive off in a brand new shiny rig. Well, what would you think happened to those axes?"
    Buchanan seemed absorbed in the three interlocking circles his finger was tracing on the bar top. But Magee hadn't invented any story about Rig. Why should he? And "the little he had seen of Ruthie Stell was enough to know that she was the woman men like Bogan turn bad over. Buchanan met the other man's gaze, looked deep into it.
    "You figure your cotton is gone?" he asked him.
    "It was worth ten thousand in gold to my customer in Matamoros," Magee replied. "That's an awful lot of temp tation for the wrong man."
    Buchanan set his empty glass down, swung away.
    "Where you going?" Magee called after him.
    "South, mister. To Matamoros. But I will be back."
    "I know you will," the broker said.
    Buchanan rode out of San Antone within twenty min u tes. On his hip rode a Colt. In the saddle boot was a Winchester. Marshal Grieve watched him go with satis faction.
    That," he said aloud, "is more natural."
    Three
    I n a country of big men, they called this one Big Red. In a fierce society where only the strongest had the right to lead, no man of his band ever challenged the rule