The Red River Ring Read Online Free PDF Page B

settlement again.
    A dark headed, portly man was sitting at a workbench working on the internal mechanisms of a revolver. He turned his swivel chair and removed his magnifying glasses.
    â€œCan I help you, sir?” he asked.
    â€œI need two or three boxes of .44/40 Winchester cartridges,” Pommel answered. “I want to look at your long range rifles if you have any for sale.”
    â€œAin’t got much in the way of Winchesters. I got a couple of new Ballard Sporting rifles and some odds and ends.”
    Pommel’s eyes ranged over the small arrangement of rifles scattered along the wall behind the counter. “What about the three-band Enfield? Is it for sale?”
    â€œSure is. Not many are interested in those old muzzleloaders now-a-days, especially infantry rifles.” The gunsmith drew down an exceptionally well cared for rifle-musket and handed it over. “I don’t know how many were carried in the war but it was a bunch.”
    Pommel examined it carefully. It was a standard issue Three-band Enfield .577 caliber infantry rifle with elevated sights and sling.
    â€œI took it in trade from a fellow who said he used it for guard duty at Brownsville. He said that he doubted the gun had been fired a hundred times,” the gunsmith said. “You got an interest in such a thing?”
    â€œI carried one just like it for three years a while back,” Pommel said. “In the right hands it can knock a man out of the saddle at six hundred yards.”
    â€œSounds like you know.”
    â€œI do. Have you any Minie balls for it?”
    â€œOnly a few but I got a bullet mold, tin of percussion caps and some bar lead I can throw in. If you’ll take it, I’d let the works go for five dollars.”
    â€œThat don’t sound like much for a gun in such good shape,” Pommel said.
    â€œNobody wants these guns anymore. Everyone wants a cartridge model or a carbine. It might sit on the shelf for years before anyone else took an interest in it. I sell them. I ain’t got no interest in collecting them,” the gunsmith said with a smile.
    â€œI’m in the same saddle,” Pommel said. “Twenty years ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated but for what I have in mind, I’m going to need a good long-range repeater.”
    â€œLong-range repeater, huh? You talk like a man who appreciates a fine rifle. How much are you willing to spend?”
    â€œWhat have you got?” Pommel asked.
    â€œJust a minute, I’ll get it,” the gunsmith said.
    He stepped into a back room and returned with one of the finest Model 1873 Winchesters McMurphy had ever seen.
    â€œI bought this Winchester Model 1873 Sporting Rifle from a spike hunter when he needed a grub stake,” the gunsmith said as he carefully placed the long blue rifle on the counter. “One thing about those buffalo hunters. They knew their rifles. He claimed he ordered this one from the factory. It’s got a thirty inch octagon barrel, buckhorn rear sights adjustable to four hundred yards, pistol grip hand checkered walnut butt stock and some of the finest case hardening I’ve ever seen on a receiver. It doesn’t have an ounce of rust or a scratch on it. I doubt there is a finer ’73 in West Texas.”
    â€œWhat’s the caliber?” Pommel asked as he lifted the Winchester and admired the tiger striped walnut forearm and stock.
    â€œIt’s a .44/40 Winchester Centerfire just like your Remington. The spike hunter claimed it was his backup rifle to his Sharps. You know, in case of trouble. Look what he had engraved on the brass plate on the bottom of the receiver.”
    Pommel turned the rifle and smiled as he read the engraving. “Gravedigger. Seems appropriate.”
    â€œI ain’t claiming it’s a one-in-a-thousand rifle, but if it ain’t, it should be. It will group five rounds inside an inch at a hundred yards.”
    â€œHow much?”