Castroville: Countdown to Armageddon: Book 7 Read Online Free PDF Page B

currently at the top of the mountain but who would eventually, inevitably, be knocked off.
         Robbie tossed his backpack over the north wall of the old zoo and wondered if he should’ve just left well enough alone and admired Hannah from a distance.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    -7-
     
           Randy rode up to a gate where two armed sentries sat together smoking stale cigarettes and talking of better times.
         The passageway to the ranch was nothing more than a set of rutted tire tracks, now well grown over with Johnson grass.
         No cars or pickup trucks had driven through the gate in many months, and the grass took that as permission to do its thing. The vehicle tracks were now barely visible, beneath a wrought-iron arbor that said “Lazy R Ranch, Est. 1878”
         The “R” on the sign listed sixty degrees to the left, thereby justifying its moniker.
         The men stood up as Randy approached and readied their rifles in case they were needed.
         “Hold up, stranger,” the taller of them commanded. “State your business.”
         Randy took the demand in stride. He adopted a friendly tone.
         “Well, now, that’s no way to greet a visitor. The right way, the Texas way , is to say, ‘Howdy, stranger and welcome. How can we help you this fine day?’”
         The tall man wasn’t impressed. He stood in stone silence, waiting for an answer to his question.
         He was wary of all lawmen anyway, and this Ranger with a smart mouth wasn’t scoring any points with him.
         The shorter man, sensing that Randy was no immediate threat, was a bit warmer.
         “What can we do for you, Ranger?”
         “I’m hunting a man. A pretty bad man, robbed and killed a family in San Antonio. I heard he headed this way. Wanted to find out if you’ve seen him.”
         The tall man growled, “We ain’t seen nobody like that.”
         “Well heck, mister. I haven’t even described him yet. And there’s a good sized reward for him. Five thousand dollars in gold coin. Put up by the surviving family members.”
         That gave the tall man pause and whetted the appetite of his partner.
         “What’s this man look like, Ranger?”
         “Tall, white, gray hair and lots of it. Big bushy mustache. Goes by the name of Tom. He rides a big Morgan with a black saddle. Horse has a brown spot on his left flank in the shape of Oklahoma. Why anyone would own a horse with God-forsaken Oklahoma on its side is beyond me.”
         The shorter of the two men happened to be the one who hid Tom’s horse in the north barn after Jack Payton took him hostage. He didn’t notice the brown spot the Ranger was referring to. But then again, he wasn’t looking.
         And everything else checked out.
         “Say we see this guy, Ranger, how do we get ahold of you to give you his body and collect the reward?”
         “Oh, don’t shoot him. If you shoot him you won’t get the reward. The family wants him alive. They want to let justice be done so they can enjoy seeing him standing atop the gallows begging for his life the same way his victims did. Then they want the pleasure of watching him swing by the rope and soil his trousers as he draws his last breath. They say they won’t pay the reward unless he’s still alive.”
         “Okay, then. Suppose he wanders along and we get the drop on him. Say we tie him up and hold him for you. How do we get ahold of you?”
         “Oh, I’ll be around town for a couple of days before I head on. I’ll tell you what. I’ll come by this way again tomorrow about this time, maybe a bit later in the day. If you haven’t seen him I’ll drop by the following day. If you or your neighbors haven’t seen him by then I’ll assume he headed north and I’ll light out that way myself.”
         “Fair enough, Ranger.