Badlanders by David Robbins Read Free Book Online Page A

woman,” Tuck said.
    â€œDon’t talk to my sister like that,” Isolda said. She was simmering inside. “It makes me mad.”
    â€œWhat will you do?” Scar said. “Take a swing at us.”
    He and the others laughed.
    â€œIf she doesn’t, I might,” Beaumont Adams said from the doorway of the Three Aces. Pushing through the batwings, he strolled out. He was dressed in his frock coat and white shirt with a string tie and a pair of polished boots. His black hat was low over his brow, shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun.
    Scar scowled. “Stay out of this, gambler.”
    â€œWhy, Mr. Scar Wratner, how rude of you,” Beaumont said jokingly. “Would that I could, but these are my premises.” He smiled at Isolda and Edana. “I was lookin’ out the window and couldn’t help noticing the predicament you ladies are in.”
    â€œWhat’s a predicament?” Tuck asked.
    â€œIt means trouble,” Grat said.
    â€œWhy in hell does everybody around here use big words?” Tuck said.
    â€œIt’s not that our words are so big,” Beaumont said. “It’s that your brain is so puny.”
    Isolda laughed.
    â€œYou shouldn’t ought to stick your nose where it’s not wanted,” Scar Wratner warned him.
    â€œI’ll stick it where I please,” Beaumont said. “You’d be well advised to light a shuck while you still can.”
    Scar lowered his hands to his sides so they brushed hisSmith & Wessons. “Are you threatenin’ us, gambler man?”
    â€œPerish forfend,” Beaumont said. “It’s not me you have to worry about. It’s the quick-draw artist who works for this gentleman here.”
    â€œDo I know you?” Alexander asked.
    â€œUnless I’m mistaken, you’re the new boss of the Diamond B,” Beaumont said. “Mr. Jessup, isn’t it? And these would be your girls. Franklyn Wells mentioned you on his last visit. He likes to stop in and wet his whistle.”
    â€œWhat quick-draw artist were you talkin’ about?” Grat asked, his hand hanging near a nickel-plated Remington.
    â€œYou boys really ought to get the lay of the land before you go around annoyin’ folks,” Beaumont said. “Annoy the wrong one and he’s liable to squish you.”
    â€œWhat the hell are you talkin’ about, mister?” Tuck said. “How did squishin’ get into this?”
    â€œIt’s what he likes to do, I hear.”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œWho have we been talkin’ about?” Beaumont said. “The gun hand. I heard him with my own ears. He likes to squish things.”
    â€œYou’re makin’ no kind of sense,” Scar Wratner said. “Go back inside and have your fun with your customers.”
    â€œAnd miss the fireworks? Not on your life.” Beaumont leaned against a post and folded his arms. “I might finally get to see how good he is. I’ve been wonderin’ since I first set eyes on the gent.”
    â€œOn who?” Tuck practically snarled.
    â€œAnd you called this lovely lady dumb?” Beaumont said. “She has more brains in her little finger than you do between your ears.”
    â€œDon’t start on my brain again,” Tuck said, his jaw twitching.
    â€œWhat was that about finally seein’ how good this gun shark of yours is?” Grat said.
    â€œI keep tellin’ you. He’s not mine. He rides for the Diamond B. He’s pards with the foreman, and gossip has it he’s bucked more than a few gents out, permanent, down to Texas. Neither he nor the foreman take any guff, so this should be doubly interestin’.”
    â€œWhat, consarn you?” Tuck said in exasperation.
    â€œThe gun battle,” Beaumont said.
    â€œWe’ll have one with you if you don’t come clean,” Scar declared.
    Beaumont smiled. “That gun shark and that foreman I