West of Tombstone Read Online Free PDF

it,’ Barney Yount said definitely. ‘They knew we couldn’t be far behind. Besides, if they buried that scrip it would be rotted away before they could come back and retrieve it, and the silver chest would need a big hole.’
    Eyes scoured Cameron Black’s, hoping for some hint, perhaps. Cameron knew that the scrip was already gone, that the silver had been discarded for its weight because Stony was traveling alone with one horse, and needed to travel fast and long carrying only the substantial fortune in gold, but to reveal that would be all the more damning. How could a wandering stranger be privy to these fact?
    It was simple when one realized that the wandering innocent was meant to be killed and left behind as Stony, and that Harte would then be riding along a cold trail. Why hadn’t Stony killed him earlier on before Cam had learned any of these things? Harte had even saved him with that snap shot which killed the rattler. Also simple when given a little thought as Stony had said, two men with arms were better than one in Apache country. And Stony had not cared to lead Cam’s pony with his stiffening, rotting body strapped to it. ‘Stony’ had to be found as if freshly killed. The sheriff, whatever he was, was cunning enough to be able to tell a days-old body from a man who has been shot recently, apparently by his own friends in a squabble over the money.
    It did no good for Cameron to know these things. He could not tell the sheriff, and the big man would not believe him at this point. The lawman’s convictions had solidified and Barney Yount was an inflexible man.
    â€˜There are only two choices, Harte,’ the sheriff now said, rolling up his sleeves as the day grew oppressive with the dry heat and the shadows shortened beneath the scattered oaks. ‘Give up the money and tell us where your friends went, or I’ll beat you to death.’

THREE
    The hulking shadow of Sheriff Yount blotted out the sun. Cameron, now seated on the hot earth, turned his hands up imploringly.
    â€˜I don’t know where the money is, I tell you!’ he said frantically. ‘I don’t know where they went.’
    â€˜Damn you, you liar,’ Yount said. There was foam on his lips as he leaned down, jerked Cameron toward him by his collar and slammed a meaty fist into his face. Cameron sagged back like a flour sack, his tortured head spinning again, throbbing with pain.
    Agent Morton grabbed Sheriff Yount by the arm. ‘Hold on, Barney,’ the slender man said. ‘Maybe he really doesn’t know. He took a slug off his skull. Maybe he can’t remember … or more likely, they had already cut him out of their plans. If they tried to murder him, don’t that make sense?’
    â€˜He knows, the liar!’ Barney Yount said, his massive chest rising and falling with anger.
    â€˜All right,’ Morton went on, still calm and logical. ‘Let’s say he does know and he’s faking it. Where is it going to get us, Barney, if you kill him? The shape he’s in it might not take much to do that. Then where would we be? Wells Fargo wants the money back, that’s all – and dead men can’t tell us anything.’
    â€˜No,’ Barney Yount had to admit, his anger slowly cooling. He straightened up, loosened his tightly clenched fists and wiped back a strand of red hair from his forehead. ‘What do you suggest we do, Morton?’
    â€˜That’s your business, isn’t it?’
    â€˜Yeah, I guess it is,’ Yount said with a heavy sigh. ‘I suppose I’ll have to have his scalp sewn up and then throw him in the darkest cell Yuma prison has to offer. Ever seen that prison, Harte? A hundred and thirty degrees this time of year. Locked in a ten by ten cell. You won’t like it a bit, I guarantee you. If you want to come clean now, I can transport you to Tombstone jail. It’ll seem like heaven compared to the hell