Collection 1989 - Long Ride Home (v5.0) Read Online Free PDF

when he saw Ollie reach over and break a straw from the broom and start picking his teeth with it.
    Outside on the porch, Fox drew closer to Sartain. “Better sleep with your gun on,” he said dryly. “I don’t like this setup.”
    â€œMe either. Wonder what that dark-haired girl is doin’ in this den of wolves? She don’t fit in, not one bit.”
    â€œWe’ll see,” Kim said. “I think we’ll stick around for awhile. When the stage goes on, we’ll send a letter to Carson about jobs, but that’ll be just an excuse to stay on here.”
    CHAPTER 3
    S ARTAIN KICKED HIS feet from under the blankets in the chill of dawn. He rubbed his, eyes and growled under his breath, then pulled on his wool socks and padded across the room to throw cold water on his face. When he had straightened, he looked at Bud. The lean and freckled cowhand was sleeping with his mouth open, snoring gently.
    Kim grinned suddenly and looked at the basin of cold water, then remembered they would sleep here tonight and thought the better of his impulse. Crossing to the bed he sat down hard and searched under it for a boot. He pulled it on, stamping his foot into place. Bud Fox opened one wary eye. “I know, you lousy souwegian, you want me to wake up. Well, I ain’t a gonna do it!” Closing his eyes he snored hard.
    Sartain grinned and pulled on the other boot, then crossed to the water pitcher. Lifting it, he sloshed the water about noisily, then looked at the bed. Bud Fox had both eyes wide with alarm. “You do it,” he threatened, “an’ so help me, I’ll kill you!”
    Kim chuckled. “Get up! We got work to do!”
    â€œWhy get up? What we got to do that’s so pressin’?” As he talked, Fox sat up. “When I think of eating breakfast with that outfit I get cold chills. I never did see such a low-down passel o’ folks in all my days.” He stretched. “ ’Ceptin’ for that dark-haired Jeanie.”
    Kim said nothing, but he was in complete agreement. As he belted on his guns he looked out the window, studying the white track of the trail. Nowhere had he seen such a misbegotten bunch of buildings or people.
    â€œYou watch that Matty Brown,” Fox warned, heading for the basin. “He’s pizen mean. Sticks out all over him.”
    â€œThey’re all of a kind, this bunch,” Kim agreed. “I reckon we won’t have to travel much further to find what we want. Proving it may be a full-sized job. That old man downstairs fair gives me the chills. To my notion he’s the worst of the lot.”
    When they left the room Kim Sartain paused and glanced down the bare and empty hall. Five more doors opened off the hall, but now all were closed. There was a door at the end, too, but that must lead to the stairs he had seen from below.
    Turning, they walked down the hall, their boots sounding loud in the passage. The stairs took them to the barroom where all was dark and still. The dusty bottles behind the bar, the few scattered tables with their cards and dirty glasses that stood desolate and still, all were lost in the half gloom of early day.
    Outside a low wind was blowing and they hustled across to the warmth of the boardinghouse. Here a light was burning but there was no one in sight, although the table was set and they could hear sounds from the kitchen, a rattle of dishes, and then someone shaking down a stove.
    Kim hung his hat on a peg and glanced into the cracked mirror on the wall. His narrow, dark face looked cold this morning. As cold as he felt. He hitched his guns to an easier place, resting his palms on the polished butts of the big .44 Russians for an instant. There were places where the checking on the walnut butt had worn almost smooth from handling.
    There were hurried footsteps and then the dark-haired girl came through the door with a coffee pot. She smiled quickly, glancing from Kim to Bud