Sam Bass Read Online Free PDF Page A

“The shake is good for a week,” he said. “After that there’s no deal. Dad is our witness.”
    Sam shook his hand and walked out without another word. I followed him. “You don’t have anywhere near six hundred dollars,” I said.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œHow much do you have?” “About two hundred.”
    â€œYou’re crazy. Where are you going to raise four hundred dollars in a week?”
    Sam gave me a tight little smile. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll get it.”
    He did, too. He got it from Army. The next Sunday, they rode out of town together in the morning and returned near sundown, Sam astride the mare and leading his buckskin. He was grinning bigger than I’d ever seen him. “Dad, meet Jenny,” he said. “The fastest horse in Texas.”
    Army was grinning, too. He said, “There’s many a dollar in Jenny.”
    Then I knew what their intention was, and I was troubled.

    Army owned two-thirds of Jenny, but she really belonged to Sam. I gave permission to stable her in my barn, and every day when he finished his work Sam went straight there and put a hackamore over her head and leapt upon her bareback and rode out to the racetrack. There he galloped her up and down the harrowed stretch until darkness brought him home. Sometimes he wouldn’t arrive until after supper, and Mrs. Egan complained of that, but Sam always refused to let her warm it for him. She complained of his no longer milking the cow or gathering the eggs, too, but I reminded her that those were no part of the duties for which I was paying him. Nor was he obligated to carry the children piggyback or attend the Bible readings, which he no longer did. He tended the animals and drove my wagons with the same care and profit as before, and that was all I had a right to ask of him.
    We were hurt by his withdrawal from our family circle, though. Even I, who as a horseman understood his enthusiasm for his new possession, couldn’t help being offended by the indifference he displayed toward us, since we had gone the extra mile to befriend him.
    I won’t say I was angry. I was disappointed. Yes. And my disappointment wasn’t eased by his constant company with the least worthy of his companions, the derelict husband and freighter, Henry Underwood. That ne’er-do-well now walked in Sam’s shadow like a cur, and he rode out to the track every day, too. I mentioned to Sam one night that I didn’t like the company he was keeping.
    â€œWhat’s wrong with Henry, Dad?” he asked.
    â€œHe’s no good.”
    â€œAw, there ain’t nothing wrong with Henry. He’s just helping me train Jenny.”
    â€œYes, when he should be at home with his wife.”
    â€œHis wife’s a bitch, Dad. There ain’t nothing wrong with Henry.”
    I had never heard Sam refer to a woman in that way, and I bit my tongue to hold back the reply I wanted to make. It would serve no purpose, and I might wind up losing my most valuable hand. So I said nothing. But I didn’t like Sam’s new cockiness, and I didn’t like his mare for inspiring it, and I didn’t like Army’s involvement with either of them. That part of it came to a head on the day the mare won her first race.
    I heard Sam and Army long before they reached the house. They were shouting and singing in the night, and I knew they were drunk. I stood at the gate, watching for them to come up the lane. They were on foot, weaving hither and yon, leading their three horses. I sent Mrs. Egan and the children into the house and told them to shut the door. I stood waiting, and when they reached the house Army handed his reins to Sam and staggered up to me. He grinned in a silly way and took off his hat and handed it to me. “Hold it with both hands, brother,” he said. Then he stuck his hands into his pockets and dropped several silver dollars into the hat. He rummaged in other