The Loner: The Bounty Killers Read Online Free PDF

From there, the horse would probably wander into town.
    If it was possible, though, The Kid intended to return and claim the animal for himself. A man who could switch back and forth between two horses like the black and the buckskin could outrun just about anybody.
    Riding the buckskin, The Kid headed into Las Vegas. The day had grown hot, so he wasn’t wearing his black coat, and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up a couple of turns over his tanned forearms.
    The town wasn’t very big, with only a single main street and a few cross streets. The springs that made Las Vegas a green oasis in the middle of a vast brown-and-tan landscape had attracted many different people over the years, beginning with the Piute Indians. Mormons had established a settlement there, but it hadn’t lasted.
    The discovery of gold and silver in the nearby hills had made Las Vegas spring to life again, and ever since it had flickered in and out of existence like a candle flame, depending on how the mines were producing. At times it was a bustling settlement, but it went through stretches when it was little more than a ghost town.
    The place seemed to be doing all right. A spur line had been built from the main route of the Santa Fe Railroad in the south, and that had brought the telegraph wires with it as well.
    Those telegraph wires were what interested The Kid. The sooner he got in touch with his lawyer, the better.
    A water tank stood at the far end of the settlement, beside the railroad tracks. The telegraph office was inside the depot. The Kid had to ride the entire length of the street to get there.
    No one seemed to pay any attention to him. He didn’t hurry, keeping the buckskin at a casual pace, instead.
    Halfway to his destination gunfire roared out.
    Women screamed and men shouted curses. Everybody in the street and along the boardwalks scurried for cover. The Kid reined in sharply and looked for the source of the shots. Whoever was burning powder didn’t seem to be shooting at him.
    Several men spilled from the double doors of an impressive two story building constructed of large sandstone blocks. Painted on the wall above the awning over the boardwalk were the words FIRST BANK OF LAS VEGAS .
    That and the gunshots were enough to tell The Kid what was going on, even before he saw the bandannas pulled up over the faces of the men who ran out. Smoke curled from the barrels of the guns in their hands.
    A bank robbery was none of his business. He had problems of his own. He was willing to let the outlaws get away, though the possibility they might have killed someone during the shootout in the bank nagged at him.
    But then a man came running around the corner carrying a shotgun. Sunlight winked off the badge pinned to his shirt.
    The four masked men who had just run out of the bank saw him and swung their guns toward the lawman.
    The Kid knew they could fire before the man would be able to bring his scattergun to bear and yelled, “Hey!” He palmed out his Colt and squeezed off a shot.
    The slug hit one of the outlaws in the back of his right shoulder, shattering bone and spinning him halfway around. He dropped his gun and let out a howl of pain as he staggered into the street clutching the wound and collapsed.
    Realizing they were suddenly caught between two fires caused the remaining outlaws to hesitate, giving the lawman time to raise the shotgun and squeeze off both barrels. Flame gushed from the weapon’s twin muzzles.
    The double load of buckshot tore into two of the robbers, flinging them backward and shredding their flesh. When they landed on the boardwalk, their chests and faces looked like raw meat.
    That left only one of the outlaws on his feet, and as The Kid snapped a shot at him, he twisted around and darted back through the open doors into the building. The Kid’s bullet missed and chipped dust and stone splinters from the wall next to the door.
    The lawman started toward the entrance, obviously intending to