Trail of the Hanged Man Read Online Free PDF

Morgans?’
    ‘Violet and Joey – sure. Knew their daddy, too. Good folks.’
    ‘Then you’d vouch for them?’
    ‘In a frog’s wink.’ Her gaze returned to the window in time to see the sheriff enter his office. ‘Though it might not be the most popular vote in town, if you get my meaning?’
    Lawless grinned, tipped his hat, opened the door and stepped out into the cool, windless morning.
     
    Sheriff Tishman looked up from the stack of old wanted posters he was reading and grinned as Lawless entered. ‘Have a seat,’ he said, indicating the chair beside his desk. ‘Coffee’s heating up.’
    ‘Thanks, but I intend to put some dust behind me.’
    The lawman lost his smile. ‘You ain’t taking my offer?’
    Lawless shook his head.
    ‘That’s too bad, amigo . I was looking forward to hearing more of them fancy words.’
    ‘Maybe another time.’
    ‘Sure. I can always use a good man. By the way’ – the sheriff held up one of the Wanted posters – ‘your cousin, Will – he’s a dead ringer for you.’
    ‘’Cept for one thing,’ Lawless said. ‘He has a scar on his chest.’
    ‘That’d be mighty hard to see if he kept his shirt buttoned all the time.’
    ‘Nigh impossible, I’d say.’
    The words hung in the air like a veiled threat, daring the sheriff to press the issue. Unfazed, the lawman swatted a fly that landed on the wanted posters and scooped its squashed remains into a waste basket.
    ‘That’s the problem with killing things,’ he said pointedly. ‘There’s always a corpse to bury.’
    ‘Beats getting buried yourself,’ Lawless said.
    ‘Never thought of it that way.’ The sheriff shuffled through the posters, giving himself time to figure out how he could get his question answered without getting shot. ‘This scar your cousin has,’ he said finally, ‘any idea how he got it?’
    ‘Knife fight.’
    ‘Where?’
    ‘El Tecolote.’
    ‘’Mean that old cantina down in Las Palomas?
    ‘Uh-huh. Got jumped by border trash.’
    ‘You were there, then?’
    ‘Heard about it later.’
    ‘Self-defence, I bet.’
    Lawless smiled mirthlessly. ‘That was the “rumor”.’ He left.
    Rising, Sheriff Tishman plodded to the doorway, stood there watching Lawless untie his grullo from the hitching rail. ‘Rumor I heard,’ he said, ‘your cousin was piss-drunk and tried to carve up a soldier from Camp Furlong who was kissing his whore.’
    ‘Wouldn’t surprise me,’ Lawless said. ‘The camp’s just a mile from the border and Columbus, across the railroad tracks, is a dry town.’
    The sheriff chuckled. ‘That’s why I try never to ride south of Deming. In my book, folks who vote against liquor being sold don’t deserve law and order.’ He waited until Lawless had mounted before adding: ‘That shirt of yourn … you always keep it buttoned up?’
    ‘Winter and summer.’
    ‘Must raise a powerful sweat riding in this heat.’
    ‘Powerful.’
    ‘Yet you still keep it buttoned?’
    Lawless shrugged. ‘Way I figure it, if the shirt-maker didn’t want folks to use the top button he wouldn’t have sewed it there.’ Before the sheriff could question him further, he nudged the grullo into a trot and became part of the wagon and buggy traffic moving along the street.
    Sheriff Tishman took a lemon drop from the bag in his vestpocket, put it in his mouth and sucked contentedly. The tart flavor soothed his tensions. Unhurried, he looked at the poster still in his hand. Above the words ‘Wanted Dead or Alive – $5,000 Reward’ Will Lawless’s stubbled, mustachioed face glared at him. It bore a startling resemblance to the man riding away from him.
    With a heavy sigh, the lawman re-entered his office and pinned the poster on the wall behind his desk.
    He never wanted to forget that face.
    As he studied it he absently fingered the rope burns on his neck, wondering as he did if the rurales really had hanged the Texas outlaw Will Lawless.

CHAPTER SIX
    The Morgans’ ranch was