Outlaw Pass (9781101544785) Read Online Free PDF

What about this feller, Samson, that owns the stables?” Adam asked then. “Is he on the sheriff’s list of road agents?”
    â€œNo, Jack’s not in with Plummer’s crowd. He’ll deal fair with you,” Earl replied.
    After Earl gave Adam directions to the road to Bannack, they parted company, Earl to his room in the rear of his store, and Adam heading to the stables to check on his horse. “You watch your back,” Earl called out as he stepped off the boardwalk and disappeared between the buildings.
    This seemed to be the standard advice everybody offered. “I will,” Adam replied, “and thanks again.”
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    He decided against staying in the hotel that night for two reasons. The first was the inflated costs for everything in the town; the second was a matter of caution. In light of his altercation with the two outlaws in the saloon, and his subsequent talk with Earl Foster, he decided it a prudent idea to sleep in the stable with his horse. That way, he’d be ready to ride before sunup, he hoped before the acquaintances he had made the night before decided to look for him.
    He returned to the barn to find Samson already gone for the night and the stable door barred on the inside. Walking around the barn, he discovered a small shack behind it, which was obviously the stable owner’s house. Judging by the light in the window, he figured that Samson was probably eating his supper. Adam considered disturbing him to inquire about sleeping in the stall with his horse, but only for a moment. I’m paying him enough for Brownie’s board , he thought. To hell with it . He continued his walk around the barn, looking for a means of entrance, but the only other door he found was at the back, and it had a padlock on it. Back to the front of the building after finding no likely way to get inside, he looked up at the hayloft door. It was closed, but didn’t appear to be barred. “I could reach that if I had my horse,” he murmured. “Too bad he’s inside the damn barn.” Then a rain barrel at the corner of the building caught his eye. He studied it for a few moments, shifting his gaze back and forth between the barrel and the hayloft door, estimating the distance. It was worth a try, he decided.
    After taking a look around to make sure no one of the noisy crowd of saloon patrons down the street had noticed him lurking around the stables, he went to the rain barrel and quickly pushed it over on its side, dumping its full contents on the ground. From the impression left in the soil, he guessed that it had been in place for quite some time, causing him to hope the bottom had not become too rotten to support his weight. When all the water had emptied, he rolled the barrel over to the stable doors and stood it upside down beneath the hayloft. I don’t know . . . , he thought as he cautiously climbed upon the weathered bottom of the barrel. If this damn bottom is rotten, I’ll end up in the barrel. On his knees, he rose very gingerly to his feet with no indication of failure other than a creaking, cracking sound of the weathered bottom.
    Standing as tall as he could on tiptoes, he found that the sill of the hayloft door was still inches above his reach. “Damn!” he swore in frustration. A sudden increase in the creaking from the barrel bottom informed him that he had to do something quickly. Looking up at the door above him, he determined that there was a few inches’ gap between the bottom of the door and the doorsill. With no more time to decide, he flexed his knees and jumped just as the barrel bottom broke in two. He managed to catch hold of the sill, but was now dangling by his fingertips, and wondering if the whole endeavor was worth it to save a few dollars.
    By sliding his hands, one at a time, under the edge of one of the double doors, he succeeded in pushing it open. Feeling the toll on his arms from hanging there, he