Slocum 419 Read Online Free PDF Page A

Someone took that life and I am going to find out who.”
    â€œJohn, it’s really none of your business. You don’t have a stake in Durango. It’s a mining town and people live and die here all the time.”
    â€œAmy, I’m a wanted man,” he said. “I’m wanted for murder. A carpetbagger judge back in Calhoun County, Georgia, claimed my family’s land for himself after the war, and he got it—permanently. I buried him by the springhouse. That’s a fact that I can’t change right now. But this Nichols man, he deserves better than he got. His soul cries out for justice.”
    â€œBut it’s still not your place to—”
    He cut her off.
    â€œYes, it’s my place. I saw it happen. I have to do something for Nichols and maybe a few others who have been swept under the old rug.”
    She gasped in alarm and hung her head.
    Slocum got up and set the cheroot in the ashtray. He began to put his clothes back on while Amy sat there on the bed, her eyes welling up with tears.
    â€œDon’t get yourself killed, John. Not now. Not after this. Not after you and me.”
    Slocum pulled on his boots and thought about the man in the mine, flying through the air, dead as a stone.
    And he thought about the women’s voices.
    If he ever heard them again, he would recognize them.
    One way or another, Wilbur Nichols would get the justice he deserved.
    Either at the end of a rope, or from the barrel of a gun.

5
    Amy dressed quickly. She combed her hair and put on fresh lipstick and a touch of rouge to each cheek.
    Slocum watched her dress and felt desire for her all over again.
    â€œWell, I guess this is as good as I’m going to feel all day,” she said. She gave Slocum a peck on the cheek. She stood on tiptoes to reach him with her lips.
    â€œThere will be other times,” he said.
    â€œPromise?”
    â€œI promise,” he said. “Before you go, can you give me a starting point?”
    â€œA starting point?”
    â€œA name, or names. Those fellers you overheard in the saloon. I’d like to talk to at least one of them.”
    â€œThere was only one whose name I knew,” she said. “Wally Fowler. He’s more of a regular than the others. He’s not a miner or prospector. I think he owns a hardware store. Sells mining tools and such.”
    â€œThanks. Know the name of his store?”
    â€œOh, I think it’s Fowler’s Tools or something like that.”
    â€œGood. That’s a start.”
    â€œJohn, I wish you’d stay out of this. I’ll just worry about you and get sick.”
    â€œI’m not going to stick my neck out. I’m just curious, that’s all.”
    â€œHa. You’re a town tamer if I ever saw one.”
    Slocum laughed and kissed her on the lips.
    â€œSee you at the saloon later,” he said.
    â€œI’ll be a nervous wreck until you walk through those batwing doors.”
    â€œDon’t be. Just take care of your girls.”
    â€œI will,” she said.
    â€œBut don’t take the place of any of them.”
    Amy laughed heartily.
    â€œNever,” she said, and then Slocum walked her to the door and opened it.
    â€œGood-bye, John.”
    â€œGood-bye, Amy.” He locked the door as she walked down the hall. He wanted her again when he saw the bounce of her buttocks.
    He found the store owned by Wally Fowler. The sign on the false front proclaimed that it was FOWLER’S MINING EQUIPMENT CO. “Close enough,” he said to himself as he walked up to the front door.
    Inside, he saw stacks of picks, shovels, adzes, sluice boxes, plowshares, harnesses, boxes of DuPont dynamite, percussion caps, fuses, knives, gold pans, square nails, and assorted pieces of heavy timbers and planking, sacks of concrete, trowels, water jugs, and wooden canteens.
    There were two customers in the store and a man arranging items on a shelf behind the counter where