Day of Independence by William W. Johnstone Read Free Book Online

his feet.
    He was done, all used up, finished.
    His gun dropped from his hand, thudded to the floor... and a second later Hank Cannan followed it.

    Cannan woke to the concerned brown eyes of Dr. Hans Krueger.
    â€œHow are you feeling, Ranger?” the young physician asked.
    â€œI don’t know,” Cannan said.
    Krueger sat on the bed and Roxie Miller peered over his shoulder. “You got shot again,” she said.
    â€œThe bullet went through your arm and into your rib cage,” the doctor said. “Luckily it didn’t penetrate far and I was able to extract it.”
    â€œYou have to stop getting shot,” Roxie said.
    Without lifting his head from the pillow, Cannan said, “I didn’t have much choice in the matter.” He was surprised at how weak his voice sounded.
    Krueger smiled slightly.
    â€œI’m afraid Miz Roxie is right, Ranger Cannan,” he said. “I keep patching you up, but I’m not a miracle worker. Next time you might not be so lucky.”
    â€œDoc, I’m all shot to pieces,” Cannan said. “How lucky can a man get?”
    â€œAs you can tell, Mr. Cannan is not a good patient, Dr. Krueger,” Roxie said. “He was drinking whiskey and smoking cigars with Baptiste Dupoix, the gambler, and him sick in bed.”
    â€œNo more smoking and drinking until we get you on your feet, Ranger,” the doctor said.
    â€œWhen will that be?” Cannan said.
    â€œA few weeks.” Krueger thought for a moment, then said, “Will your superiors come looking for you?”
    Cannan shook his head. “No, I’m on my own. A Texas Ranger is supposed to look out for his ownself.”
    â€œEven if his life is in danger?” Krueger said.
    â€œYes, even if his life is in danger. He’s expected to handle it. That’s how it works.”
    Cannan moved in the bed, and immediately jagged shards of pain stabbed at him.
    â€œDamn it,” he said, breathing hard, “who shot me?”
    Roxie answered that. “Feller by the name of Jess Gable. He works for Abe Hacker.”
    â€œThere were two of them,” Cannan said.
    â€œAccording to Hacker, the other one was Dave Randall,” Roxie said.
    â€œYou said, works for Abe Hacker. You mean he’s still alive?” Cannan said.
    â€œBarely,” Krueger said. “He has a belly wound, and there’s nothing I can do for him except ease his pain and make his dying easier.” The young doctor’s face took on a strained look as he forced himself to admit that death, his archenemy, had beaten him. “He won’t last the night,” he said.
    â€œWhy did they try to kill me?”
    Cannan addressed his question to Roxie. She worked the saloons where whiskey-talking men freely exchanged gossip about the citizens of Last Chance.
    â€œHacker says Gable and Randall were rogue employees who wanted to kill a lawman,” she says. “He says his men are out hunting for Randall and when they find him, they’ll turn him over to the law.”
    â€œWhat law?” Cannan said. “I’m the only law in Last Chance. I mean, what’s left of me.”
    The Ranger and his wife had once been invited to attend a mummy unwrapping party at a grand house in Austin. Now, lying in bed, swathed in bandages, he felt like that Ancient Egyptian feller... before he was unwrapped.
    â€œWhere is Gable now?” Cannan said.
    â€œAcross the street at the Cattleman’s Hotel,” Dr. Krueger said. “He’ll die in his room, and Hacker says he’ll bury him decently, for old times’ sake.”
    Cannan badly wanted to sleep, just close his eyes and drift, but he forced himself to stay alert.
    Outside the reflector lamps were lit along the street and from one of the saloons a bored piano player one-fingered the notes of a Chopin étude. An owl, perched on the top of one of the false-fronted buildings, asked its question of the night