Slocum's Silver Burden Read Online Free PDF Page A

cop expertly emptied Bully Boy’s pockets, found little, then stood and kicked the dead man.
    â€œHe feels cheated that the man he was robbin’ was broke. Never occurred to him that Bully Boy was dead. And it wouldn’t matter one whit to him if he figgered it out.”
    The two cops walked on, never looking back at the corpse.
    â€œThanks. I was feeling guilty over killing him and would have shot both policemen.”
    â€œThat would have brought the wrath of God down on you. Or at least the wrath of James Otis.”
    â€œWho’s that?”
    â€œThe mayor of this fine city. But maybe he isn’t carin’ so much at the moment. Heard the rumor he’s afflicted with cholera and doin’ poorly.”
    â€œWhy were you following me?”
    â€œIt’s like this, mister. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.” Underwood looked sharply at Slocum. He might be lacking fingers but his gaze was intent. Nothing dulled his bright blue eyes.
    Slocum gave his name but nothing more. He had wanted posters that had followed him for all the years after the end of the war for killing a carpetbagger judge who had tried to steal Slocum’s Stand, the farm that had been in his family for generations. He had left the judge and his hired gunman in graves down by the springhouse, ridden away, and never looked back to see who was catching up with him. Since then, he hadn’t lived a perfect life. More than once he had sampled the outlaw life. Whatever it took to keep body and soul together, he did. He preferred legal jobs, but he wasn’t inclined to be dragged into a crime by someone he didn’t know.
    â€œI want to offer you a job.”
    Slocum had anticipated this.
    â€œI already told you that I’m not a killer for hire.”
    â€œBut takin’ a man’s life in self-defense doesn’t bother you overly, does it? You’re not sheddin’ tears over Bully Boy.”
    â€œHe would have killed me,” Slocum said simply.
    â€œYou think them police did the right thing? Robbin’ a dead man?”
    Slocum shrugged. He didn’t care what the officers did as long as they left him alone. They were only doing what they needed to stay alive, too. San Francisco was a tough town.
    â€œI don’t want you to murder nobody, but you got to be willin’ to pull the trigger if it comes to that.”
    They walked along the street, heading back to the Embarcadero. Underwood seemed determined to go to a five-story brick building, edging Slocum back in that direction every time he tried to veer away. Rather than break openly with Underwood, he let the old sailor have his way. Since he had no job or prospects—he didn’t even have a horse—he had nothing to lose by letting the man bend his ear awhile longer.
    â€œSpit it out. What do you want from me?”
    â€œI told you. I get a finder’s fee if I bring ’im a man worth hirin’. Truth is, there are thousands of men in San Francisco willin’ to kill for the price of a drink. Them’s not the ones needed since they’ll turn and run at the first sign of trouble.”
    â€œAre you recruiting for a filibuster? I don’t want any part of that.”
    â€œWhat? No,” Underwood said, laughing heartily. “You’re the first who’s ever thought that, but it makes sense. There’s no intent on invadin’ another country and takin’ it over. Shows you’re the sort needed, you comin’ up with an idea like that, though. You don’t rely on your fists or your gun alone. You think on matters. That’s the kind of man Mr. Collingswood needs most, especially right now.”
    They came to a halt in front of the tall building. Emblazoned in gilt paint on the glass doors was the Central California Railroad logo, a bear blowing steam out its ears as it dragged along a passenger car.
    â€œYour boss is looking to hire railroad