Charlie Martz and Other Stories by Elmore Leonard Read Free Book Online Page A

out.”
    Charlie winked at the New Mexico nobleman. “Count, you got to remember that Mickey here is a clean liver and don’t have no truck with the sources of evil . . . outside of this drinking hell he runs. Here, let me heft it,” he said, reaching for the gun.
    â€œHow she look to you, Charlie?” the Count asked with a pleased smile on his face. He hadn’t had a complaint against his gunsmithing yet and wasn’t expecting any.
    Charlie balanced the heavy Colt .44 in his hand deftly. His tan, freckled fingers curled around the ebony gun-butt as he spun the cylinder.
    â€œThe old iron looks like new, Rudy. I wouldn’t have known it. You know I had in mind to chuck it, when I remembered how you make over old irons. Yes, sir, I think this is just fine.” Charlie inspected the revolver with a broad smile on his face. “Just fine and dandy.”
    â€œGlad you like it, Charlie,” the Count said. “Only I ain’t finished yet. Just brought it in to show you the external ornamentation, you might say.”
    â€œYou might say,” Mickey Tigh put in. “But we wouldn’t.”
    The Count shot Mickey a quick glance. “Just stick to your beer drawing, Fat Boy.” He returned to Charlie. “As I was saying, the finish is finished, and the bullets fit the cylinder as you probably noticed. There are five in there now and the hammer’s on the empty chamber. Only trouble is when you squeeze the trigger, the cylinder moves around too far and the hammer falls in between the chambers and jams. Doesn’t do the hammer any good either. It’s getting all bent out of shape with my testing it to fall right. Yep, it looks fine, but the way it is, it ain’t worth a tiddly-do.”
    â€œYou don’t tell me! Well, I’ll be damned!” Charlie was more disappointed than surprised.
    â€œOh, I’ll fix it, Charlie. Like I said, I just wanted you to see how far along with it I am.”
    Charlie looked at the shiny pistol sadly, reluctant to give it back to the Count. “Rudy, what you say I just hold on to it awhile and kind of get the feel of it? Been a long time since I used this girl.” Charlie was a little boy with a new toy. He wasn’t very subtle about it either.
    â€œSure, Charlie. It’s your gun,” the Count answered.
    The Doña Ana sheriff lifted the pistol he was carrying from the worn leather holster and handed it to Mickey Tigh. “Here, put this one behind the bar, Mick, and I’ll get it when I go.” He slipped the renovated Colt into the holster and patted it lightly. “Feels good.”
    â€œWant another beer, Charlie?” said the bartender.
    â€œDon’t mind if I do, Mick,” Charlie answered him, shaking his head. “That’s a killin’ ride from Cruces.”
    The Count glanced over his shoulder just then and gave Charlie a poke with his elbow. “Look out, Charlie, here comes that rough rider, Vance Roman.”
    A few heavy, high-heeled footsteps, accompanied by the jingle of Mexican spurs, and Vance Roman was at the bar.
    â€œWhat you got there, Charlie? Looks like new iron. Let’s have a look.”
    Before the sheriff could prepare for anything, Vance Roman jerked the Colt from Charlie’s holster with a howl of laughter and pointed it in his face.
    â€œWhat are you doing with one of these, old-timer? They shoot real bullets, you know!” Vance threw his head back and howled again, and then waved the Colt in the direction of his compadres . “Hey, boys! Look what Charlie’s got! Think we ought to tell him what it is?”
    Charlie made a wild grab for it over Vance’s head, but the cowboy jerked it out of his reach. “Give me my gun, you crazy kid!” Charlie was dead serious.
    Vance wore his usual silly, superior grin. He held the pistol highover his head and held Charlie away at arm’s length. “Aw, does the sheriff