Leadville Read Online Free PDF Page A

business.”
    “What should I do?”
    “Jenny knows her mother-in-law better’n us. She’ll protect herself. Keep your mind on our business at hand.”
    In less time than I expected, McAllen and his friend from the Pinkertons marched up the street with more purpose than a couple of generals about to go into battle.
    “Let’s go. We’re late,” McAllen snapped.
    “I’m free to go? No charges?” I asked.
    “Not entirely. I’ll explain on the trail,” was all McAllen said.
    Wordlessly, we saddled our riding horses and gave the packhorse loads a final tug to insure that they were secure. Swinging into the saddle, I rubbed Chestnut’s neck and then pulled the reins lightly to guide him into the street. I had owned numerous horses in the East, but none compared with Chestnut for steady character, trail skills, and endurance. He had carried me all over the West for more than a year, and we got along just fine. The dime novels talked about how cowboys loved their horses. I could certainly see how affection grew between man and horse, but I still preferred humankind. Maybe I hadn’t been in the West long enough yet.
    We rode single file out of town, but as soon as we emerged into open country, McAllen turned in his saddle and waved me up. I trotted up the string of horses and settled into an easy walking gait beside McAllen.
    “You’ll face a hearing on our return.”
    “But the marshal still let me leave town?”
    “In my custody … with my promise you won’t bolt.”
    “So I’m your prisoner?”
    “I’m just responsible for your behavior. You have to be back in nineteen days, when the judge’s circuit brings him to Durango.”
    “What if we haven’t found your daughter by then? Sharp bought enough supplies to get us through the winter.”
    McAllen glanced back toward Sharp but said only, “Nineteen days should be enough.”
    “Did the marshal buy my story?”
    “After I vouched for you and explained the rest. Those two had made a nuisance of themselves around town, and a witness saw them hanging around outside the café until they saw you alone. I don’t think you’ll have a problem, but this ain’t Pickhandle. They got real law here.”
    In Pickhandle Gulch, I had also killed two men in a street fight, but the town was so lawless that no one even questioned me. Before that incident, I had never even shot at a man before. I had learned to handle firearms growing up in my father’s New York City gun shop. After he died, I ran the high-end shop and practiced or tested new models several hours a day. I became proficient with handguns, rifles, and shotguns.
    “Are you going to introduce your friend?” I asked.
    McAllen reined up and waited for all four of us to gather in a rough circle. “Jeff Sharp and Steve Dancy, I’d like to introduce Alfred Mathers, but he prefers to go by Red.”
    Red wore his black hair short, and his high cheekbones and sturdy-looking chin made him look formidable.
    “Half-breed?” Sharp asked.
    “My father was Shoshone, but I speak Ute. My Indian name is Red Oriole.”
    Sharp laughed. “That explains the absence of red hair.” He reached out his hand. “Welcome to our little band.” After handshakes all around, Sharp asked, “Known our cordial leader long?”
    “I track for the Pinkertons. The captain an’ I have done a few assignments together.”
    “What were you doing this morning?” I was curious, because I knew McAllen never allowed his men to sit idle.
    “The captain—”
    “Steve, you asked for an introduction. You got it. We’re wasting time. I’ll explain after we’ve made camp tonight.” To punctuate his point, McAllen wheeled his horse around and resumed riding southwest.

Chapter 6
     
    Because of the shooting at the café, we didn’t reach our destination before nightfall. Red had ridden on ahead to scout the terrain, and by the time we caught up with him at dusk, he had trout cooking on sticks extended over a welcoming fire. We ate in