Showdown Read Online Free PDF Page A

and with one fluid movement, Frank closed his hand around the handle of the coffeepot, took one step, and smacked Sonny in the center of the forehead with the heavy pot. Hot coffee splattered as the pot impacted against Sonny’s head with a dull clunking sound and Sonny stretched out on the floor, out cold.
    Frank put the dented pot back on the bar. “Damn shame to waste good coffee like that,” he said. “But coffee’s easier to clean up than blood.”

Four
    A wicked cut of lightning flashed outside, followed by a tremendous clap of thunder. The thunder rattled the windows of the saloon.
    â€œMy word!” one of the Eastern men exclaimed.
    â€œIt’s gonna rain like a bull pissin’ on a flat rock,” Bob said. He looked at the women. “ ’Cuse my language, ladies. I forgot you was here.”
    â€œClouds have been building all day,” Frank said as Sonny groaned on the floor. “I suspect the storm is going to be a bad one.”
    â€œHow do you know that?” a woman asked.
    â€œBecause it’s building from the east. Anytime a storm blows in here from that direction, it’s a bad one.”
    The stage driver walked in, carrying the last of the luggage. “Startin’ to rain,” he said. He glanced at the man on the barroom floor. “What happened to him?”
    â€œHe got tired and decided to take a nap,” Bob told him.
    â€œWell, somebody step over him and get me a drink,” the driver said. “I got me a hunch we’re all gonna get to know each other right well if this storm is as bad as it looks.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” one of the traveling men asked.
    â€œWe’re sometimes cut off here after a bad storm,” Doc Raven explained. “Sometimes for a couple of weeks. The passes are closed due to rock slides, and bridges wash out. While your rooms are being readied, why don’t we introduce ourselves and have a drink? You people might be here for several days.”
    â€œThere is a man lying unconscious and perhaps badly hurt on the floor!” a woman said, her voice filled with indignation. “And nothing is being done to help him.”
    â€œHe’s all right,” Doc Raven said. “But he’ll have a headache when he wakes up. What is your name, madam?”
    â€œNora Greene. That is my husband,” she said, pointing, “Edmund.”
    Sonny groaned and put a hand to his head. He made no attempt to rise from the barroom floor.
    â€œI’m John Garver,” a man said. “My wife decided at the last minute not to accompany us on this Western adventure.”
    â€œThe manhunt, you mean?” Raven asked.
    â€œWell . . . yes.”
    â€œAre you one of the men who put up money to hunt me like some sort of rabid animal?” Frank asked.
    â€œAh . . . well . . . yes,” John said.
    â€œWhat kind of people are you?” Frank questioned. “I’m not a criminal. I’m not wanted by any court. What kind of mind considers a manhunt sport?”
    Sonny groaned and managed to sit up on the floor. There was a trickle of blood and a swelling knot in the center of his forehead. His glazed eyes found Frank. “You bastard! I’ll kill you,” he mumbled.
    â€œI doubt it,” Frank replied. “Now just sit there and shut up.” He looked at the group of men and women and pointed to Sonny. “Is this dude in your employ?”
    â€œHe is our bodyguard,” Margaret said. “He is one of the finest bodyguards in all of New York City.”
    â€œWell, if your fine bodyguard isn’t careful, he’s going to be a dead bodyguard,” Frank told her. “This isn’t New York City, folks. Out here, the rules of conduct are somewhat different.”
    â€œI should have you arrested,” a man blurted out. “I believe I shall summon a police officer right now.”
    â€œYeah, you do that,” the stage driver