Hard Ride to Wichita Read Online Free PDF Page B

couple of those things stashed somewhere, I’d say you still owe us,” Red told him.
    â€œThat’s a good gun,” Marty said. “I fired it myself.”
    Red laughed loudly. “I know that’s a damn lie. If you fired more than two rounds from that thing, you’d be missing a piece of your hand.”
    The iron was partly rusted, but its weight felt good in Luke’s hand. He hefted it and nodded in satisfaction as he rested his thumb against the hammer. After taking a breath, he pulled it back to hear the invigorating clack of the firing mechanism. “What kind of gun is it?”
    â€œIt’s a genuine Colt,” Joseph told him.
    â€œThere’s two shots in the cylinder ready to go.” Eyeing the other boy suspiciously, Red asked, “You won’t shoot us, will you?”
    Glaring at Marty, Luke said, “I never said I was gonna kill anyone. I just want to see if this thing really works or not.”
    â€œDon’t do it,” Red warned. “I’ve heard of men getting their whole hand blown off when a pistol misfires.”
    â€œI’ll be careful.”
    â€œDon’t matter how careful you are! Something goes wrong and that gun could blow up in your face.”
    Luke’s eyes were glassy and transfixed upon the weapon in his hand. “Just get me something to shoot at.”
    â€œAre you gonna take that gun as a trade or not?” Marty asked. “We wanna be done with this.”
    Luke glanced over at him and was about to fiercely tell the boy to mind his manners when he realized Marty was already stricken mute. Without meaning to, Luke had pointed the Colt at the boy. Reluctantly he lowered the pistol and forced himself to sound innocent when he said, “I never shot a gun before. That’s all I’m after.” Luke wasn’t much of an actor, but he was convincing enough to get the Paulsen boys to relax a bit.
    â€œThere’s some bottles over there,” Joseph said. “Marty, go set them up on that fence.”
    As Marty hurried away to complete the task he’d been given, Red walked over to Luke and whispered, “Just take the gun and be done with it. We can probably sell it to get the money we were after.”
    â€œDon’t you want to try to shoot it?” Luke asked.
    â€œI shot a gun before. My pa has one. Hasn’t yours ever taken you hunting?”
    â€œI’ve been hunting, but this isn’t like any hunting rifle. This has been through Indian wars,” Luke said as he turned the Colt over to see how the light reflected off its rusted surface from different angles. “This is like a pistol carried by gunfighters.”
    â€œIt’s one carried by a soldier,” Red reminded him.
    â€œPlenty of gunfighters used to be soldiers.” Looking up to find a trio of bottles lined up on the fence separating the lot from the strip of land behind the neighboring store, Luke grinned and opened the Colt’s cylinder.
    â€œYou wanna bet that thing won’t blow off your hand?” Red asked.
    â€œIt won’t.”
    Seeing that he wasn’t about to sway his friend from the course he’d chosen, Red threw his stick at the ground with enough force to bury its point several inches into the dirt. He stormed off a few steps before turning and placing his hands on his hips to watch what transpired next.
    Luke squared his shoulders, planted his feet, and straightened his elbow. Bringing that arm up, he felt as if the Colt had gained a few pounds in the last few seconds. Adjusting his stance and ignoring the tension in his muscles, he sighted along the top of the barrel and pulled the trigger. The Colt let out a haggard bark and kicked against his palm without so much as nicking the bottle.
    â€œThat’s got some punch!” Luke said while smiling as if he’d sent glass flying in every direction.
    â€œIt sure does,” Joseph said. “Try it