The Red River Ring Read Online Free PDF Page A

knew he had interests out here, much less a bunch of sons. There’s more going on here than a feller can figure.”
    â€œYou gonna find out?” Thad asked.
    Del smiled and shook his head. “Hell, no. I don’t want to know nothing. The less I know the less I can tell and the happier he and I will both be.”
    Thad nodded.
    It was easy enough to find Colredge’s office. Colredge and Bent Land, Grain and Cattle was painted on the second story windows above the mortuary. A narrow enclosed hall stairway behind a street door in the middle of the building led to the second story office.
    Pommel entered the office without knocking. A male bookkeeper rose from his desk and asked uncomfortably if he could be of help.
    â€œI’m looking for Nab Colredge,” Pommel said eyeing the door behind the bookkeeper.
    â€œDo you have an appointment?” the bookkeeper asked uncomfortably.
    â€œDo I need one?” Pommel asked.
    â€œUh, no, I guess you don’t. We’re about ready to close for the day. May I tell him who you are?”
    â€œSoap Withers.”
    â€œYes, sir, Mr. Withers. I’ll tell him you’re wanting to see him.”
    The bookkeeper went through the door. He returned quickly with a smile.
    â€œYes, sir, Mr. Withers. Go right in. Mr. Colredge says he’s eager to see you.”
    The smile left Colredge’s face when Pommel stepped through the door. He glanced toward a second man sitting near a window and appeared confused. Colredge was a balding, well-dressed man in his fifties with a gray handle bar mustache. The other man was in his thirties, short, dark, slim. A pair of Colt revolvers were hanging from his hips butt forward, each holster on a separate belt crossed over the other.
    â€œI’m afraid there’s been a mistake. I thought my secretary stated that you were Soap Withers,” Colredge said.
    â€œI’m a friend of Soap’s. I guess the secretary misunderstood,” Pommel said.
    â€œWhat can I do for you?” Colredge asked.
    Pommel eyed the man by the window and stepped to the side to give him an angle to view both men at the same time. “Soap says you’re looking for gun hands. Men willing to do hard labor and ask no questions for a hundred dollars.”
    â€œSoap talks too much,” the man at the window said.
    â€œI’m always looking for riders,” Colredge said as he slowly opened his desk center drawer.
    â€œI’m your man,” Pommel said.
    â€œYou appear to be a well dressed man. Perhaps a little too well dressed for the line of work I have in mind,” Colredge said after a pause.
    â€œMaybe I’m just good at my job,” Pommel said.
    â€œI didn’t catch your name,” the man at the window said.
    â€œI didn’t throw it. I guess I don’t know yours either.”
    â€œThis is Burt Blake. He runs a freighting and stage company here in Pampa for me,” Colredge said.
    Pommel eyed Blake closely. “He’s pretty well heeled for a freight clerk.”
    â€œTough country. I protect the line’s interests,” Blake answered.
    â€œAlways wondered why some fellers saw fit to carry two pistols. Always wondered if they couldn’t get the job done with just one,” Pommel said.
    Blake smiled coldly. “Some fellows can take on bigger jobs than other fellows.”
    Pommel nodded and smiled. “My name’s Pommel McMurphy. I used to trail boss out of the Plateau country. Trail driving’s dried up with the railroads and I’m looking for work.”
    Blake laughed softly and shook his head. “And Soap Withers sent you to us?”
    Colredge slowly slid his hand toward the open drawer. “Where is Soap?”
    â€œSoap’s buried under a mesquite tree near twenty-mile oak on the Palo Duro.”
    Blake stiffened in his chair. Colredge moved his hand back from the drawer.
    â€œHe died of a drafty shirt. Somebody put a hole