Trail of the Hanged Man Read Online Free PDF Page A

their coffee.
    Lawless kept waiting for the sheriff to say what was on his mind. But the lawman made no mention of it. Finally, with the sun now yellowing the rooftops of the buildings across the street, he could wait no longer. ‘Let’s have it, Sheriff. I want to be halfway to Arizona by sundown.’
    ‘Maybe after your hear me out, you won’t need to go to Arizona.’
    ‘I doubt that.’
    The sheriff drained his coffee and leaned back, dug out a crumpled paper bag and offered it to Lawless. ‘Lemon drop?’
    Lawless shook his head. ‘Just get to the meat.’
    The sheriff popped a candy into his mouth, tucked the bagaway and placed his huge fleshy hand palm-down on the table. For a moment he locked gazes with Lawless and then withdrew his hand to reveal a deputy star.
    Lawless almost laughed. ‘You aren’t asking me to wear that, are you?’
    ‘Why not? Fella handles a gun like you I want him beside me, not facing me.’
    ‘Sorry.’
    ‘Two hundred a month, room and board and free ammo.’
    ‘That’s more than fair, but no thanks. I break broomtails, not people.’
    ‘You expect me to believe that, amigo , after seeing you slap leather?’
    ‘You better believe it,’ Lawless said grimly. ‘I don’t like being called a liar.’
    ‘Farthest thing from my mind,’ Sheriff Tishman said. ‘I’m just trying to take advantage of your skill with a gun. And to prove it, I’ll up the offer from two to three hundred. Now, what d’you say?’
    Lawless didn’t say anything.
    ‘Four?’
    Lawless blinked. ‘Four hundred a month?’
    ‘And found.’
    ‘Judas.’
    ‘That mean you accept?’
    Lawless ignored the question. ‘Whom do I have to kill?’
    The sheriff cocked his head, looking at him as if he were a rare artifact.
    ‘I asked you a question, Sheriff.’
    ‘Uh? Oh, yeah, sorry. It’s just I ain’t never heard anyone say “whom” before. Mighty fancy.’
    ‘I’ll try to be more illiterate for you in future,’ Lawless said. ‘Now, answer my question.’
    ‘Hopefully – no one.’
    ‘Then why the high-roller wages?’
    ‘I figure you’re worth it.’
    ‘You mean Mr Edfors does?’
    Sheriff Tishman reddened, started to admonish Lawless, decided against it and swallowed, hard.
    ‘Mr Edfors owns the bank, not the sheriff’s office.’
    ‘I’ve heard he owns both.’
    ‘Then you heard wrong. Now, you ready to throw in with me or not?’
    Lawless was tempted. Wear a star for twelve months and he’d have almost $5,000 – more greenbacks than he’d ever hoped to call his own.
    ‘Tell you what,’ the sheriff said, rising. ‘I can see you’re interested . So why don’t you sit here a spell, think it over while you’re finishing your coffee? And when you decide, stop by my office. I’ll swear you in and then walk you over to your new digs. How’s that sound?’ Before Lawless could reply, the sheriff left money for the check, waved to the waitress and left.
    Expressionless, she watched the lawman walk past the window and cross over to his office. She then brought the coffee pot to Lawless’s table.
    ‘How long you lived here?’ he asked, as she refilled his cup.
    ‘Nigh on three years.’
    ‘Like it?’
    ‘Better than some towns, worse than others. Why? You figuring on becoming a permanent customer?’
    ‘With a deputy’s badge.’
    ‘Oh.’
    ‘Would I be making a mistake?’
    She held his wolfish, amber gaze without flinching. ‘You don’t look to me like a man who needs advice.’
    ‘Didn’t you ask around before taking this job?’
    ‘Mister, I was so glad to escape from that hellhole cantina I was stuck in, this place seemed like heaven in a teacup.’
    Lawless nodded, understanding. He’d held a few jobs he hated in the past. It wasn’t fun. ‘Guess I got my answer,’ he said.
    Rising, he went to the door. There, as the waitress started clearing his table, a thought hit him and he looked back, said: ‘By any chance, ma’am, do you know the