The Law of a Fast Gun Read Online Free PDF Page B

alongside the six-foot-high driver wheels of his locomotive, squirting oil from an oversized oil can with a very long spout into the fittings.
    When the cows reached the depot, they were pushed into the loading pens where they were held until they could be driven up ramps and crowded into the cars. It was a noisy operation, with the cattle bawling, the cowboys whistling, shouting, and cursing, gates being slammed shut, and the engine venting steam.
    Jessup had come into town with the first batch of cows, and now stood at the loading chute watching as the cattle were loaded.
    “How many do you have?” Gene Harris asked as he wrote out a receipt. Harris was the broker that Jessup had hired to sell his herd.
    “Three hundred in this batch.”
    “How many total?”
    “I brought three thousand head up,” Jessup answered. “What is the going price?”
    “Depends on how many head we ship out of here,” Harris replied. “Like I told you before, the lower the number, the greater the demand, and that will drive the price up. I’ll get the best price I can for you, Jessup, you know that.”
    “There are two other herds coming.”
    “How big?”
    “One is nearly as large as mine, the other a little smaller.”
    Harris shook his head. “That’s not good,” he said. “But like I said, I’ll do the best I can. Do they have someone brokering their cattle for them? Or are they just going to ship north for whatever they can get?”
    “Hell, this is the first time I’ve ever used a broker,” Jessup replied. “So I’m sure they don’t have one. I think they just plan to ship them north and take whatever the rate is on delivery.”
    “It’s good that they don’t have brokers,” Harris said. “I know I can get you a better price than they’re going to get. But it sure would be good if they weren’t shipping at all. We could double our asking price, maybe even do better than that.”
    When the last of the cows were loaded, Jessup returned to the camp. For the cowboys, though, this was their first time to be in any town since they started the drive weeks earlier.
    When Shorty, Tex, and Brandt finished the loading, Shorty jumped onto his horse, spurred it into a gallop and shouted to the two men behind him.
    “Come on! Let’s show this town that we’re here!”
    Tex and Brandt got on their horses and broke into a gallop as well, and the three dashed down the main street of Braggadocio, laughing at the people who had to scramble to get out of their way. They tied off their horses at the hitching rail in front of the Hog Lot, then pushed through the bat-wing doors.
    “The Bar-J is here!” Shorty shouted.
    “You boys bring in them cows we seen comin’ down the street earlier?” one of the saloon patrons asked.
    “We not only brought ’em down the street, we brought ’em halfway down the state,” Shorty said.
    “Well, welcome to Braggadocio.”
    “You want to make us welcome? Bring us whiskey and women!” Tex shouted.
    Shorty and Brandt’s raucous laughter followed Tex’s yell.

Chapter 3
    NOT LONG AFTER SHORTY, TEX, AND BRANDT ARRIVED at the Hog Lot, several of the other Bar-J riders came into the saloon as well, and the atmosphere changed almost immediately. Unlike the locals, who were generally quiet and reserved, the cowboys were loud and boisterous. They were argumentative with the customers and with each other.
    “Hey, piano player, play ‘Buffalo Gals’!” Shorty yelled.
    Hawke complied. He also played, by request, “Oh Susanna,” “Dixie,” and “Jimmy Crack Corn.”
    “Hey, piano player, play ‘Buffalo Gals’!” Shorty yelled.
    Once again Hawke complied, then he played “Trail to Mexico,” “Sally Doodin,” and the “Texas Quickstep.”
    “Hey, piano player, play ‘Buffalo Gals’!” Shorty yelled again.
    “Come on, cowboy,” Hawke replied with a smile. “I’ve played that song half a dozen times. I’m sure people are getting tired of hearing it.”
    Shorty, who had been