The Indian Ring Read Online Free PDF Page A

his left, and Strongheart whirled drawing.
    The man, a big, burly, redheaded teamster put his hands up palms facing out and laughed nervously, “Easy, mister, easy. I was just gonna tell ya that was a righteous shooting. Ya gave that man every chance in the world not to draw.”
    Strongheart reholstered his six-shooter, saying, “Sorry, sir. Thank you. Would you hang around until the police or marshal get here and explain what you saw?”
    â€œShore,” the big man said extending his hand.
    They shook.
    â€œYou’ll be the Pinkerton Strongheart, eh?”
    Joshua said, “Yes, I am. How did you know?”
    The man chuckled and held his hand out with a sweep showing Strongheart’s presence.
    He said, “Look at ya. I heard about ya plenty and looking at ya it shore as hell ain’t hard ta guess who ya are.”
    Joshua was embarrassed.
    A deputy marshal came in and got the accounts from several eyewitnesses including the teamster. He knew Joshua from the Pinkertons and knew of him by his reputation. He and Joshua went through the man’s pockets looking for evidence but found none.
    Then Joshua asked the teamster, “Did you see this man come in here with anybody?”
    The freighter said, “I shore did. I come in the same time, and he rode up with a feller in a fancy business suit, and he was riding the prettiest big old black Thoroughbred you ever seen. Long legs and he had a fancy Mexican black saddle. He took off before you come in. Not too long before.”
    Joshua said, “Did you see which way he rode off?”
    â€œNope,” the teamster replied. “Sorry. I tell you what, though. That Thoroughbred is seventeen hands tall if he is an inch. Find him and you’ll find the man. That horse was some beauty. Had a white blaze but no stockings or socks. All black.”
    â€œThat helps, mister,” Joshua said. “Much obliged.”
    As soon as the deputy released him, Strongheart took off looking for a beautiful black Thoroughbred and the man who owned it. He started riding through the nighttime streets of Denver thinking that next morning he would make the rounds of blacksmiths and livery stables and ask about such a horse. The grass was greening and bears were out of hibernation. Strongheart was looking forward to and hoping for a wonderful summer ahead.
    Little did he know that June would be one of the bloodiest months he would ever witness.
    He went into a saloon when he found a tall black Thoroughbred tied up outside and looked around.
    He went up to the bartender and quietly asked, “Do you know who owns that big black Thoroughbred outside?”
    â€œShore enuff, Injun,” the big, gruff barkeep answered. “That big boy belongs to ole Alejandro Cabal, over there playing poker. The skinny little Mex runt ya see. Why? Ya wanna buy him?”
    â€œNo,” Strongheart responded with a grin. “Just wondered. Handsome horse.”
    He looked at a very small Hispanic-looking man in the corner engrossed in a card game. He knew that was not the varmint he sought. Joshua thanked the bartender and walked out. Climbing into the saddle he headed north away from the saloon and just happened to notice two men saddling up nearby and walking behind him up the street. He kicked Eagle into a trot and glanced back, noticing that the two shadowy figures followed suit.
    Strongheart suddenly turned right down a side street then left into a narrower street filled with closed businesses. The two riders soon turned the same corner behind him, and Joshua kicked Eagle into a canter, making a couple turns back onto the main busy street he left. Numerous saloons and bawdy houses dotted both sides of the street and there were plenty of sounds of music, laughter, and shouts from most buildings.
    The two men held back a safe distance, but there was no denial in Joshua’s mind. He knew they were up to no good, and then he noticed a third rider joined them.