Novel 1968 - Brionne (v5.0) Read Online Free PDF Page B

You first, conductor.”
    It took them a minute to walk through the two cars. No one was missing. Dutton Mowry, already slumped in his seat prepared for sleep, eyed them curiously as they walked down the car.
    “No one missing,” Brionne commented pleasantly, “so there’s nothing to keep us, is there, conductor? Suppose you give them the high-ball?”
    “Now, just a minute!” The conductor’s protest was silenced when he saw the gun.
    “Give them the signal, conductor, and if there are any complaints, I will stand responsible. I am Major James Brionne, and I think you will find your superiors will know me.”
    “Well, if you put it that way, I—”
    “I
have
put it that way, conductor. We have delayed too long.”
    Reluctantly, the conductor stepped down and gave the signal. The whistle tooted and the cars jangled as the engine took up the slack. From the direction of town Brionne saw several dark figures sprinting toward the station. The conductor saw them, too.
    “Too bad,” Brionne said pleasantly. “They’re going to be late.”
    The train started to move, rolled a bit faster, the whistle blew again. Under the train the rail ends began to clack and the cars creaked.
    The men shouted, but the train continued to roll. Brionne lifted a hand and waved.
    “Conductor, you may know this man.” Brionne indicated his prisoner. “If you do, please persuade him that I wish to be left alone. I have no axes to grind, but I have no desire to be shot at. The next time shooting starts, if he is in the vicinity, I shall shoot him first.”
    “I don’t want any trouble on my train,” the conductor protested.
    “And neither do I. My son and I are coming west because we love peace…and quiet.
    “As for you, conductor, I imagine you will be very busy thinking up explanations to cover your rather peculiar association with those gentlemen back there, and to show why their horses are in the baggage car.”
    He indicated the door, and they entered the coach. The conductor and the other man walked forward; Brionne dropped into the seat beside Mat.
    “Pa, were those men back there the ones who shot at you?”
    “It’s a reasonable assumption, Mat.”
    “But why?”
    Brionne shrugged. “Mistaken identity perhaps. Or they might think I am doing some investigation for the government. There are people who know that I am close to Grant, and there have been some people who are stealing from the government, who may think that I am coming out to uncover their crimes.…
    “Being shot at is distasteful,” he added. “I hope we shall have no more of it, whatever the cause.”
    “What will those men do?” Mat asked.
    “Catch the next train, I suppose. Now you’d better get some sleep. We have a long ride ahead.”

----
    P ROMONTORY WAS A row of weather-beaten shacks and tents facing the railroad. A sign proclaimed PACIFIC HOTEL: Soda Water. Next door was the Echo Bakery & Restaurant, Meals At All Hours. Further along were the Palace Saloon and the Sunny Side Hotel, which was a tent.
    “We won’t stay here,” Brionne said.
    Dutton Mowry came up and paused beside them. “You huntin’ a horse? That there livery stable yonder usually has some good stock. I’m headin’ thataway.”
    They walked along together. The street was dusty and crowded. Dozens of horses stood at the hitching rails in front of the saloons and hotels. There were many idlers, but there were few women.
    The hostler looked up as they drew near. He threw a hard glance at Mowry. “You back again? Never did see a man who did so much runnin’ around.”
    Mowry grinned at him. “Don’t worry, Pat. I’m fixin’ to light. I need a horse. So do these folks—and Pat, they’re friends of mine.”
    Pat got up and led them back into the corral. Brionne walked out and the horses started to move. He watched them for a minute. “That all you’ve got?”
    “Well,” Pat said, “you can’t ride more’n one at a time, can you? Yep, that’s the