Spirit Of The Mountain Man/ordeal Of The Mountain Man (Pinnacle Westerns) Read Online Free PDF Page B

about how he had been caught off guard by the grizzly. Hank laid a fire and filled a coffeepot with fresh water. He set that to boil and broke out Smoke’s skillet.
    “I’ll bet you’re hungry, right?” he asked Smoke dryly.
    “Don’t even mention it.”
    “Bacon, eggs, an’ fried tatters?” Hank prompted.
    “A pound of bacon, a dozen eggs, and two pounds of potatoes with onions, if you please,” Smoke answered calmly. “And that’s just for starters.” Then his temper caught him out again. “And I don’t like bein’ done for!”
    His voice echoed across the water in the silence that followed. As though on a signal all three men broke up in side-splitting laughter. Finally, Smoke choked out a sensible reply. “I’ll tell you about it after the first cup of coffee.”
    Monte stepped forward, extending a silver flask in one hand. “I’ve got a little rye to spike it with.”
    “Good,” Smoke grumped. “Damn good. Then you’ll hear it all.”

3
     
    After Smoke had recounted his incident with the bear, with frequent interruptions of sniggers and out-and-out hee-haw braying laughter, he got around to asking Monte what had brought the lawman out from Big Rock. Monte took a pull on his coffee, rubbed his chin in a contemplative manner, and turned his sky-blue eyes on Smoke.
    “Well, it might not mean anything at all. It’s something I picked up from the telegraph. Only, the names were familiar, and I did want an excuse to sample some of Sally’s great pie, so I rode out to tell you about it.”
    “Well, then, stop chasin’ around Murphy’s barn and do it,” Smoke responded in mock irritation.
    “All right, I will. Three men have escaped from Yuma Prison.”
    It left Smoke unimpressed and unconcerned. “There’s more than that has gotten out of there.”
    Monte ignored Smoke’s teasing interruption. “These three went together. Beings as how you put all of them behind bars, I got to thinkin’ that maybe you should know.”
    “Who are they?’
    Monte named them. Smoke listened and shook his head. “I remember those three right well. I had no idea they had gotten together in prison. How’d a thing like that happen?”
    Right at home with this sort of situation, Monte called off the list. “Attempted escape can get a man transferred. So can a killing inside prison that a certain convict cannot be proven to have done. Or just being a constant pain in the ass. There’s plenty of causes. And, considering the Territorial Prison at Yuma is the hellhole of the entire system, no doubt the worst all wind up there eventually.”
    Smoke nodded affirmatively. “You’ve described Buckner, Spectre, and Tinsdale perfectly, Monte. They are all killers, they would no doubt contrive to escape, and beyond any doubt, they are all huge pains in the ass.”
    “There’s more. They badly injured one guard, and killed another and a turnkey on the way out.”
    “Yep. I had no idea they’d been put together, like I said, but with these killings, it makes it clear that they’re up to no good. Now, let’s put out this fire and go look at a piece of that pie.”
     
     
    After the noon-hour rush, business had slackened off at the Grand Canyon Saloon, in the Arizona town of the same name. Five cronies sat around a green baise-topped table playing a desultory game of poker. The hands took forever to be played and the largest bet was half a dollar. At another table, one sequestered in a shadow-darkened corner, Spectre, Tinsdale, and Buckner sat conducting business. They had been in the settlement on the rim of the Grand Canyon for less than a day. They had as yet to pay any notice to the spectacular view. Bored with the lack of activity, Buckner nodded toward the card players.
    “Last of the big-time spenders.”
    Victor Spectre studied him over the rim of a whiskey glass. “I’d not sneer, were I you. Up until we killed that old man on the Colorado, the most you’ve had in your pocket for the last fifteen years