The Gunsmith 386 Read Online Free PDF Page A

the job for that reason rather than something personal.
    Clint had just killed a young man named Travis, who had something personal against him, but took months to reveal himself. This man had clearly done what he did for money. The question was, what about the other two? Maybe one of them had a personal grudge and had hired the other two to back his play.
    â€œSeen enough?” Ingram asked.
    Clint shook his head and said, “I’ve seen nothing. There’s nothing helpful here, so yeah, I guess I’m done.”
    â€œCome on,” Ingram said, “let’s get a drink.”
    They left the undertaker’s office and walked to one of the smaller saloons. When they entered, the only person there was the bartender.
    â€œLeo, beers for me and my friend.”
    â€œComin’ up, Sheriff,” the bartender said.
    He set two beers on the bar. Ingram picked one up and handed it to Clint.
    â€œWhat are your plans now?” he asked.
    â€œMy horse needs a few days, so I’ll be around waiting to see what your trackers come up with.”
    Ingram raised his beer mug and said, “Maybe you can even relax.”
    â€œI doubt that,” Clint said. “I’ve sent out some telegrams to see if I can pick up some information.”
    â€œYou think maybe somebody out there is after you?” Ingram asked. “Spending some money?”
    â€œMaybe.”
    â€œWell,” Ingram said, “I hope we can come up with the answers for you.” He drank half his beer and set the mug down on the bar. “I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll see you later.”
    â€œThanks for your help, Sheriff.”
    â€œJust doin’ my job, Mr. Adams,” Ingram said.
    â€œThanks anyway.”
    Ingram nodded and left the saloon. Clint looked at the bartender, who was cleaning a glass and watching him.
    â€œWhat’s on your mind?” Clint asked.
    The man shrugged.
    â€œI was just listenin’.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œI may have somethin’ for you.”
    â€œLike what?”
    â€œInformation.”
    â€œAnd what’s it going to cost me?”
    â€œA few bucks.”
    â€œIt will have to be worth it.”
    â€œThere was a stranger in here last night.”
    â€œJust one?”
    â€œJust one, but he talked about a partner.”
    Clint didn’t think he had enough money in his pocket to make the man talk further. He could have shaken it out of him—or scared it out—but he decided not to.
    â€œOkay,” Clint said. “I’ll be back for the information.”
    â€œDon’t you wanna know how much I want?”
    â€œI’m going to come back with some money,” Clint said. “With however much I feel the information is worth.” He put down his beer mug. “And you’re going to take it.”
    He turned and walked out, headed for the bank.

TEN
    Clint needed to send a telegram before he could go to the bank. He also needed to get a reply.
    â€œI’ll be at the café across the street when the reply comes in,” Clint told the telegraph operator.
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œAny replies from my other telegrams?”
    â€œWell, yes, sir,” the young clerk said. “I took them to your hotel, like you said. Left them with the desk clerk. You wasn’t there.”
    â€œNo, I wasn’t,” Clint said. “Okay, I’ll be across the street.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    Clint walked out, crossed the street, and entered the café. It was between breakfast and lunch, so he had his pick of any table. He chose one against the back wall. Just once he’d like to sit at the window and look out while he ate, but the Gunsmith in a window was just too much of a target.
    â€œSir?” the waiter asked.
    â€œCoffee, and pie,” Clint said.
    â€œApple, rhubarb, or peach.”
    â€œPeach,” Clint said.
    â€œComin’ up, sir.”
    He was waiting for his