[Texas Rangers 05] - Texas Vendetta Read Online Free PDF Page B

spendin’ my money foolishly. I’ll sleep in the wagon yard.”
    Andy suspected the captain would have chosen the hotel, but the captain was better paid. Privates rode for thirty dollars a month. At least nowadays they actually received it. Rusty had told him that in earlier times they often went unpaid for long stretches while the state struggled with a thin and leaky treasury.
    Andy followed Farley from the jail to the wagon yard, each carrying his rolled blankets. Farley turned on him and pointed up the street. “You don’t have to copy after me. Go to the hotel if you’re of a mind to.”
    “They don’t pay me any more than they pay you.” He knew it would look awkward if he, the junior of the two, took better accommodations. Farley was sure to let the other Rangers know. Some would take it as a sign that Andy was being uppity. Among proud Texans, that was a cardinal sin.
    Andy let Farley stay a few steps ahead, befitting Farley’s seniority. Anyway, he could do without Farley’s company.
    He thought about how pleasant it would be to order supper in the hotel, where they served meals on a white tablecloth. Maybe someday, when he had more money in his pocket. A working cowboy earned as much as a Ranger and seldom if ever had to face somebody with a gun and criminal intentions.
    He bought a loaf of freshly baked bread and a spicy sausage to share with Farley. Farley bought a bottle but did not offer to share it. Nor did he bother to thank Andy for the supper. The man and his contradictions intrigued Andy as much as they offended him.
    The darkness was compromised only slightly by a lighted lantern at the open front doors of the stable. Andy sat on a wooden bench, watching Farley tip the bottle. He broke a long silence. “I heard you say some people oughtn’t to ever drink.”
    “I don’t drink enough to let it get in my way.”
    Andy watched a match flare after Farley rolled a cigarette. He said, “Not that I give a damn, but I wonder what makes you itch so bad. You’ve never liked me from the time we first met.”
    The observation caught Farley off guard. “I never thought much about it. Didn’t seem important. But now that you mention it, I don’t like you. You stole a horse from me once.”
    “He never was yours in the first place.” On the run from the state police, Farley had abandoned a worn-out horse and had taken one from Rusty. Farley’s father gave Rusty a sorrel in return. Rusty turned the animal over to Andy, who named him Long Red.
    Farley said, “I’d told my daddy I wanted that horse. Figured I’d earned him for all the work I did for nothin’ on that man-killin’ old farm.”
    “Guess he didn’t see it like you did.”
    “Lots of things he didn’t see like I did. Got to where I couldn’t stay around him anymore. But those damned state police had no call to kill him.” Farley’s voice was bitter.
    “You gave the carpetbaggers a lot of trouble. Don’t you think you came out about even?”
    “I tried to give them back as good as what they gave me.”
    “Why, then, did you wind up joinin’ the Rangers?”
    “The state police was mostly scallywags. The Rangers are us, the old-timey Texans. You think after all I went through in the war and with the carpetbaggers that I could ever settle down on the farm again? You think you could, after livin’ with the Comanches?”
    “If I set my mind to it. I just got a little restless, so I joined the Rangers. Wanted to see if I could ever be as good as Rusty Shannon.”
    On that question he was still undecided. He knew he was not yet. He wondered if he ever would be.
    Farley asked, “What do you think of the service, now that you’ve been in it awhile?”
    “I didn’t look for it to be fun. Mostly it’s been long days in camp standin’ horse guard or out followin’ long trails that fade away before we find anybody. I can see why men like Dick Landon slip off and get drunk.”
    “Excitement is considerable overrated. Now you’d