Ralph Compton Comanche Trail Read Online Free PDF

never made no connection to the Bender place till you brought it to mind. But now that I’ve thought on it, seems all the bad things I’ve been hearing about took place down that way.” He cleared his throat and shook rain from his hat. “Anyways, as soon as this storm passes, I’m gonna deputize me a few men here in town and go down there for a look-see and some conversation with those folks.”
    â€œI’ll be wanting to go along,” Taylor said.
    â€œIn that case, consider yourself rightfully deputized.” With that he turned and walked back into the watery night.
    The driving rain, the likes of which eastern Kansas had seldom before seen, continued for two days.
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    Four men were already waiting with Marshal Thorntree when Taylor arrived in front of the jail to finally begin the morning ride to the Benders’ place. Though a clear blue sky greeted them, the three-day storm had left the street a chocolate quagmire. Standing pools of rainwater made the street look like a stagnant riverbed. There were no wagons or buggies in sight and few other people aside from idle shopkeepers stirred.
    â€œGonna be mighty slow going, I’m afraid,” the marshal said as the newly deputized men sat along the boardwalk, scraping mud from their boots.
    â€œThis here’s my deputies,” he said after a brief nod to Taylor. “Tater Barclay here, he’s kinda my full-time, part-time deputy when he ain’t drunk or tending his place.” The burly man with oversized arms that strained against the sleeves of his flannel shirt nodded at him. “These boys areJason and Mason Weatherby, fairly good for nothing mostly, but they’ll have to do.”
    The twin brothers flashed identical smiles. “Reckon you get what you pay for, Marshal,” Mason Weatherby shot back.
    â€œAnd this,” Thorntree continued, “is Brother Winfrey. He does our preaching.”
    Though surprised that a man of the cloth would be riding with them, Taylor only nodded in the direction of the slightly built man whose long, prematurely silver hair reached to his shoulders.
    Brother Winfrey stood to extend a handshake. “I’ve not always had the calling,” he said. “Rode with Sterling Price and the Missouri State Guard back in the day.” He tapped a hand against the handle of a ten-year-old army-issue Colt that hung at his side.
    â€œNow that we’ve made our proper acquaintances,” the marshal said, “we’d best mount up and be on our way.”
    He rode point, followed by the twins, Barclay, and the preacher. Taylor brought up the rear.
    â€œAnybody rides hisself off into a gully and gets drowned,” Thorntree yelled back at his posse, “we ain’t stopping for you.”

Chapter 4
    The six riders remained in their saddles, staring toward the ramshackle cabin’s open doorway, the sign that had promised food and lodging swinging in the gentle breeze from the one nail that still held it in place. The snorting of their mounts was the only interruption to the silence.
    â€œHello, the house,” Marshal Thorntree called out.
    When there was no response, he instructed Barclay and the twins to check the barn. He, the preacher, and Taylor headed toward the cabin.
    Inside, debris was scattered across the dirt floor. Footprints of scavenging coyotes crisscrossed the room.
    â€œDon’t look like there was much for the critters to find here,” the marshal said as Taylor pulled back the canvas that separated the single room. “Cleaned out back here too,” he said. Only the frame of the bed remained.
    Barclay joined them. “Only thing out in the barn is a milk cow badly in need of tending. I give her some hay and seen she had fresh water. By the looks of tracks, there was once a wagon there, but it’s gone.”
    Thorntree looked around the deserted cabin. “Appears tome these