Vengeance Trail Read Online Free PDF Page B

gathered in the reddish whiskers, giving them the color of dried blood.
    “What sort of offer?”
    “Well hell, if’n you’ll let us come up to the cabin, I’ll reckon you’ll find out!”
    Two men shared the wagon seat. The one doing the talking was Faustus Greenbush, a mountain man like himself. He and Faustus
     had shared camps and grub together, and now and then their liquor. But that was as far as it went. Eli Stagg maintained no
     friends.
    The other man was well-dressed—a checked suit and a dandy little hat perched atop his head.
    “This is Mr. Kimbel,” announced Faustus with a mouth smeared and stained by tobacco juice.
    He saw the man Kimbel eye him, eye the rifle in his hands, whisper something to Faustus.
    “Got no secrets around here,” said Eli Stagg sternly, his fierce stare leaving no allowance for humor.
    The man in the checked suit stiffened.
    “I just told your friend here that you didn’t seem prepared for company and that maybe we ought to return another time.”
    “Depends on your business.”
    “Like I told you, Eli. It’s a money deal.”
    “Step on down then.”
    Eli Stagg produced a jug of sour mash from within the cabin and sat it on a stump. The three men stood around the stump and
     shared the liquor and talked about why Mr. Kimbel had come.
    “Mr. Greenbush tells me you are very, very good at tracking and hunting,” said George Kimbel.
    “Let’s cut to it, Mr. Kimbel. What is it you need doin’ and how much you willin’ to pay?”
    Kimbel explained it.
    “A thousand dollars just to find this feller and kill him?”
    “That’s correct. Of course, I’ll want my name left out of the matter, and that of Mrs. Gray. As far as anyone else is concerned,
     we’ve never had this discussion.”
    “How much a reward is the state offerin’?”
    “Five hundred, but only paid upon trial and conviction of the accused. Those whom I represent, Mr. Stagg, are not so much
     interested in trials as they are seeing that justice is served.”
    “I ain’t a blind man, mister. I can see your point!”
    “I am prepared to offer you one hundred dollars in advance, for travelling expenses if you will. The rest to be paid upon
     proof that the task has been carried out.”
    “Proof! What sort of proof!”
    “We can find something that will be acceptable to all concerned, I’m sure.” Kimbel reached within an inside pocket of his
     suit coat and handed Eli Stagg a folded piece of paper:
    $500 REWARD FOR THE CAPTURE OF THE KILLERS OF SENATOR WILLARD FRANCIS GRAY. THE RESPONSIBLE PARTIES ARE DESCRIBED AS A DEADLY
     OUTLAW CALLED BY THE SOBRIQUET “HANDSOME JOHNNY.” HIS ACCOMPLICE IS WOMAN DESCRIBED AS SWEET AND INNOCENT IN LOOKS AND SMALL
     IN STATURE. HER NAME IS NOT KNOWN. THE PAIR Were LAST SEEN IN FT. SMITH WHERE THEY SOLD THE MARE THAT SENATOR GRAY WAS RIDINGON HIS FATEFUL DAY. IT IS BELIEVED THAT THE COUPLE ARE ON THEIR WAY TO TEXAS. THE REWARD WILL BE PAID UPON THE CAPTURE AND
     CONVICTION BY THE STATE OF ARKANSAS.
    Above the description were the drawings of a dark-haired man with a black moustache and a woman with a narrow face but attractive
     features.
    The mountain man’s features bunched as he read the poster and studied the drawings.
    “Soon enough,” said Kimbel, “I suspect the law will learn their identity. A smart man looking for them would be well advised
     to keep close company with the marshall’s office in Ft. Smith.”
    Eli Stagg looked up from the paper, his breath souring the air between the two men.
    “I reckon I know how to find what ever it is I’m lookin’ for, mister.”
    “Yes. Yes, I suppose you do, Mr. Stagg.”
    “I’ll take that hunnerd dollars now.”
    He did not bother to count the money. “I take a man at his word,” he said. “A bond is a bond. I’ll see that your man don’t
     come to trial. You see that the rest of my money’s waitin’ when the job is done. I ain’t a patient man when it comes to collectin’
     what’s due me.