High Wild Desert Read Online Free PDF Page B

Englishman’s mines?” Dave asked.
    â€œYep, they did, brother,” said Oldham, drawing the cinch snug beneath the buckskin’s belly. “What we heard is true, the John Bulls are sneaking their payroll money in by stagecoach right now. They rolled in, set off a strongbox and rolled on. Nobody seemed any the wiser for it. Except for me, that is.” He grinned, his teeth looking pearly white against the red-blue dust caked on his face. He swung up into his saddle and sat atop his horse staring from one face to the other. “Boys, we’re fixing to become well heeled.”
    â€œ
Whooiee!
” said Dave. “It’s high time I was struck by some solid good fortune.”
    â€œHere’s the deal,” said Oldham. “We ride in, do some drinking, get fed and bred. Tomorrow we ride out to the mines—collect the payroll money from the John Bulls.”
    The men smiled and nodded at each other. Little Deak bounced up and down in his saddle, his stubby legs sticking straight out on either side. Reye looked at him, then at Blind Simon, and his smile went flat as he turned and stared at Oldham with his wrists crossed on his saddle horn.
    â€œNot to take on a dark attitude, Oldham, but I’ve gotta ask, how much of a cut do these two new men get?” He nodded at Little Deak Holder and Blind Simon.
    â€œCome on, Chic, let it go,” said Sieg, getting disgusted.
    â€œKeep out of this,” Reye warned Sieg. He stared at Oldham Coyle for an answer.
    â€œAn even split,” said Oldham. “Why?” he asked, sensing something brewing.
    â€œI don’t think they deserve full shares, that’s
why
,” Reye said bluntly.
    â€œEverybody gets a full share, Reye,” Oldham said. “What’s wrong with you anyway?”
    â€œPay him no mind, Oldham,” said Sieg. “He’s had a mad-on off and on, all day.”
    â€œ
I said
keep out of it, Sieg,” said Reye. “I still want to know what they’re doing riding with us.”
    â€œAll right, Chic, since you’re questioning my judgment,” said Oldham, stepping his horse closer, “let’s see if I can make you understand. Last year, Simon Goss hid me out from a Colorado sheriff and a hanging posse at a place called Apostle Camp, up above Black Hawk. For that, I told him if he ever needed to make a run or two, let me know. So he did a while back. Now here he is. And I’m good for my word.”
    â€œI understand you’re good for your word, Oldham,” said Reye. “But the man can’t see.”
    â€œWe’ve been through all this,” Blind Simon called out. He turned his head back and forth, singling out the sound of Reye’s voice.
    â€œHe sees shadows and such,” said Coyle. “More important, he makes up for what he can’t see with his other senses. He’s got the hearing of a watchdog.”
    â€œYeah, what else?” said Reye, sounding dubious, unmoved.
    Staring at Reye, Oldham called out over his shoulder to Blind Simon, “Point us out the best hot food in this town, Simon,” he said.
    The blind man sniffed the air quickly, then raised his arm and pointed a finger in the direction of the town sitting three hundred yards away.
    â€œAny womenfolk?” Oldham asked.
    Simon kept his arm raised but moved it slightly to his right, stopping at three different points.
    â€œThere, there and there,” he said respectively. “No shortage of females here,” he replied, “but you best like rose-lilac perfume. It smells like there’s been a cosmetics drummer through town of late.”
    The men all looked impressed. Reye only stared, not giving in yet.
    â€œWhat’s that restaurant serving today?” Oldham asked Simon Goss.
    â€œRocky Mountain ram shank,” Simon said confidently, “all you can eat.”
    â€œStewed or baked—?” said Oldham.
    â€œAll right, Oldham, I