Lawman from Nogales (9781101544747) Read Online Free PDF Page B

poor Freddie Loopy, a man who worked for me—a man greatly admired by all, both Americano and Mexicano alike,” Defoe said, pointing at Sam with his right finger from beneath his swallow-tailed coat, taking his hand off his gun in doing so.
    Sam caught the gesture. Yes, the trouble was over, he thought. For now anyway .
    â€œHe came upon me with the double-barrel, Defoe,” Sam said, “the same gun he was ready to pull on me in your cantina. If I were to think on it long enough, I might decide that you put him up to it.” He stared hard at the Frenchman.
    Defoe stared ahead, not backing an inch. The Ranger had let him know it was over. Now it was up to Defoe to look good for his followers. Sam would give him that much.
    â€œBut I don’t have time to think on it,” Sam continued, gesturing toward Erin, a step behind him to the side. “Her brother is lying dead up in the loft. Is Wild Roses going to see to it she gets him buried proper?”
    Defoe continued to stare at the Ranger for a moment, as if in consideration.
    â€œYes, of course,” he said finally, letting out a sigh. Behind him, the men appeared to settle down even more.
    â€œMiss Erin,” Defoe said, reaching up and taking off his battered silk top hat, “you have my deepest sympathy.”
    â€œA snakebite is a terrible way to die,” a crusty old Texan in buckskins cut in. “I’ve seen men’s tongues turn inside out, blacken and burst before they can—”
    â€œThat’s enough, Yancy,” Defoe said, cutting the old border rat off. “Why don’t you and Zerro go bring the poor fellow down and take him to the barber?” He glanced around and asked, “Where is Walden anyway?”
    â€œThe barber was with one of the doves a while ago,” said one of the villagers.
    Defoe chuffed. “If it has been over a few seconds, he is all finished. Someone go get him. Have him meet Yancy and Zerro at his tonsorial shop.” He turned back to the Ranger with a smoldering glare.
    â€œObliged,” Sam said, on behalf of Erin.
    â€œYes, thank you, Mr. Defoe,” Erin said in a grief-stricken voice. “I will find a way to repay you and the town of Wild Roses someday, when I get on my feet.”
    â€œOh . . . ?” Defoe studied her face for a moment, her eyes reddened by her tears. “Are you looking for work, then, young lady?”
    â€œI—I don’t want to—”
    â€œShe’s not looking for that kind of work, Defoe,” Sam cut in sharply.
    Ignoring the Ranger, Defoe tipped his silk hat toward Erin.
    â€œPardon me for asking,” Defoe said. “But that is the business I’m in, coarse though it may appear to some.”
    â€œI understand,” Erin said, humbly. “Thank you for asking. But I’ll be going back to Ireland as soon as I can find a port and make passage. I still have kin there.”
    â€œI see,” said Defoe. He turned to the Ranger and said, “So, you and I are going to try to be civil to each other, for the sake of this grieving young woman?”
    â€œYes, as far as I’m concerned,” Sam said. “I have no problem with you, unless you’re a part of the Gun Killers I’m hunting.” He gazed evenly at Defoe, convinced that the shifty Frenchman was on good terms with the gang, if not actually a member.
    â€œAs you can see, I run a cantina here in this Mexican hellhole,” Defoe said, spreading his hands, his right hand still behind the lapel of his long dusty coat. “But you have my word that this is all I do.”
    Sam nodded, pretending to be satisfied, but he knew better. He’d already seen too much for Defoe to convince him otherwise. Besides, how could he take the word of a man who wore a third arm in order to shoot someone by surprise?

Chapter 5

    Hector Pasada didn’t stop until the sun had sunk completely out of sight behind the mountain line