Song of Eagles Read Online Free PDF Page A

visit.”
    As the two shook hands Chisum looked over MacCallister’s shoulder and said, “Well I’ll be jiggered. Looks like more company comin’.”
    Falcon turned to see a lone rider walking his horse up the dirt road toward the ranch house. The rider was a short man wearing a dirty black coat over a soiled and rumpled shirt that Falcon thought must have once been white. As the rider drew closer, Falcon turned to Chisum. “Hell, John. It looks like a kid on that horse. You taken to hiring boys now?”
    Chisum chuckled. “Things aren’t that bad yet, Falcon.”
    The rider reined his horse to a halt and sat, looking at the hard cases standing in front of the house with their rifles trained on him. He grinned and removed his hat, running his hands through light brown hair. His eyes crinkled as he smiled at Falcon and Chisum on the porch.
    â€œOne of you Mr. John Chisum?”
    Chisum nodded and stepped forward. “Yeah, that’s me. What can I do for you, young man?”
    â€œMy name’s Billy Bonney. I heard you was lookin’ to hire some men . . . men who know their way around a six-shooter.”
    Falcon noticed that though the lips smiled and the eyes narrowed in apparent good humor, there was something deep in the eyes that belied the grin. They were cold as well water on a frosty morning. As they flicked back and forth, sizing up the men with guns in the area, it was obvious they missed nothing. Falcon knew instinctively this was no mere boy, but a deadly man to be reckoned with.
    Chisum gave a snort. “And you think that would be you, is that it?”
    â€œYes, sir.” With a minimum of motion, Bonney slowly pulled his coat back and tucked it in his belt behind his back, letting his hands hang loose by his side. “If you have any doubts in the matter, I’d be right happy to show you with any of these galoots standing here.”
    Mack Monroe, one of the toughest looking hombres in the group of men, stepped forward. He was about five-foot eleven inches tall and must have weighed almost two hundred and fifty pounds. He stood in front of Bonney with his hands on his hips.
    â€œI’m Mack Monroe, foreman of this here spread, an’ you can show me how good you are, if you’ve got the guts.” Without taking his eyes off the newcomer, he added, “You want I should throw this pup in the water trough, Boss?”
    Bonney’s eyes slowly looked Monroe up and down, then cut to Chisum. “If I kill this man, can I have his job, Mr. Chisum?” His face showed no fear whatsoever. In fact, he still had the boyish grin on his lips, as if taking a life was no more than a game to him.
    Chisum rubbed his moustache, his own lips curled up in mirth at the cojones this boy was showing. He’d seen few men have the courage to face Monroe, with fists or with guns. “No, I’ll have none of that, Mr. Bonney. If you kill him, I’ll still be a man short even if I hire you.”
    Chisum walked to the porch rail and took a tin coffee mug and pitched it to one of the other hands. “Bob, on the count of three, throw this mug in the air. Monroe, you and Bonney can both draw down on it and we’ll see if this kid has what it takes.”
    Falcon stood on the porch watching Bonney out of the corner of his eye and saw the young man’s lips curl up in a sly smile at the mention of a shooting contest. “How good is Monroe, John?”
    â€œHe’s the best I’ve got with a short gun, Falcon. Why?”
    Falcon inclined his head at Bonney and said, where all could hear him. “I’ve got a hundred dollars says the kid takes him. Are you on?”
    Chisum frowned suspiciously. “Do you know this man, Falcon?”
    â€œNever seen him before in my life.”
    â€œThen why on earth would you risk a hundred dollars on him?”
    â€œFirst of all, I’m a gambler, for a living and for fun. Second, look