The Savage Curse Read Online Free PDF Page B

likely we’ll get to know each other better after we all have some vittles and some hot coffee after supper. Gets mighty chilly out here in the desert at night.”
    â€œI know,” John said.
    Horky and the others dismounted, along with Ben. Horky took Ben’s horse and followed Jake to a fissure in the canyon wall behind the firelit adobe. The horses and men disappeared as John stood next to Crudder.
    â€œYeah, we got a big ol’ corral back there with several head of beef. Makes a good hideout, wouldn’t you say?”
    â€œWhat is this place?” John asked.
    â€œI think Yaqui used this place to hide from the army. Some say it was built by Navajo or some such tribe, maybe the Havasupai. Lots of legends in this country.”
    John felt a queasiness in his stomach. He could no longer hear either the horses or the men. It was as if they had been swallowed up by this secret canyon. The quiet was so thick, he thought he could cut it with a knife. The roiling in his stomach he recognized as something close to fear. He and Ben were completely at the mercy of these outlaws. Crudder held all the cards and owned the deck.
    â€œJake,” Crudder said, “I didn’t give you this feller’s handle a while ago. Goes by the name of Johnny Logan.”
    â€œLogan,” Ward said, avoiding John’s penetrating gaze. “I better see to the fire.”
    Ward went inside the adobe. John could see his silhouette against the blazing light of the fire. John’s brows knitted in thought, but all the thoughts were dead ends, leading nowhere.
    Ben came back, walking with Horky. The others followed. All except Ben were smoking cigarettes. The tips glowed in the gathering gloom like fireflies on a summer night. The smoke hung in the still air like morning steam along a river.
    â€œHorky here,” Ben said to John, “used to herd sheep up in Colorado. When he was a kid. Small world, eh, Johnny?”
    John flashed Ben a look, shook his head slightly.
    Ben caught on fast and shut up.
    The men went inside the adobe. The cook fire made it hot inside, but when John leaned against a wall, the adobe was cool. He studied the faces of the men as they squatted around the room, their faces lit by firelight. When Hobart and his gang had murdered his parents and the other prospectors in Colorado, he had memorized all their faces. He wanted to be sure that none of these men had been there that day, that none had been in Hobart’s bunch. He recognized none of them, but his gaze lingered on Ward longer than on the others.
    â€œWell, boys,” Crudder said, hefting Ben’s gunbelt, which was still wrapped up in a bundle of leather, bullets, and buckle. “Shall we trust these owlhoots with their weapons?”
    â€œIf you vouch for ’em, Cruddy,” Ward said. “They look all right to me.”
    â€œUm, I do not know,” Horky said. “We do not know nothing about them.”
    â€œThey ain’t wearin’ badges,” Jubal Mead said. “That’s good enough for me.”
    â€œWe ain’t gonna vote, are we?” Jesse said. “I can’t tell who a man is just by lookin’ at him.”
    Crudder turned to look at John Savage.
    â€œYou want to join up with us, Logan?” he said.
    â€œDepends,” John said. “We don’t know much about outlawin’.”
    Crudder and the others laughed. All but Ward, who narrowed his eyes as he gazed at Savage.
    â€œThat’s for sure,” Crudder said, and then he told Ward about the Logans robbing a preacher in Lordsburg. “They may be dumb, but at least they tried.”
    Horky picked up John’s gunbelt and unwrapped it. He slid the pistol from its holster and let out a long low whistle.
    â€œThat is a pretty six-gun,” he said. He bent his head and held the engraved inscription up to the firelight and mouthed the words inscribed on the barrel in silver inlay.
    â€œNo