Destined to Die by George G. Gilman Read Free Book Online Page A

head to toe, then started to check on his horse and gear. ‘You’re the guy Will Gershel says might have killed the Engels and screwed that snot-nose kid of theirs?’
    ‘You going to try to stop me, Mr Larkin?’
    The logger spat and some of the saliva did not clear his beard. ‘Shit, kid, how would I do that? You with them two pistols and that sawn-down shotgun dangling from the saddle?’
    Gold nodded. ‘Okay.’
    He took his hand from the coat pocket and took up the reins.
    ‘You have to do anythin’ to that girl and Mrs Gershel to get free?’
    ‘The girl may have a rope bum around her neck.’
    ‘If I’m gonna believe that, I have to figure you didn’t do what the girl said you did.’
    ‘You’re a believer in truth, Mr Larkin.’
    ‘Then ride away from here in any direction but north, kid. Will Gershel’s a good and honest man. If he wasn’t, he’d have took care of you himself. Seein’ as how you claim Jesse, his own son, did the killin’s. But with the crowd of other hillbillies he’s roundin’ up, he’ll take a back seat. Good and honest men, nearly all of them. But in a crowd, they’ll stick together to protect their own. Wrongs and rights of it won’t make much odds. You ride on the north trail and you’ll head slap bang into them.’
    ‘They told you a lot, Mr Larkin,’ Gold lit another cheroot, ‘considering you’re not one of them.’
    ‘No, kid, I ain’t one of them. I’m from Illinois and spent most of my workin’ life up in Montana and Oregon until I got too old to keep pace with the youngsters. And my blood got too thin to take them northern winters. But Will and me, we get on fine, us bein’ such close neighbours. And he asked me a favour. To go down the trail to his place and stand guard over you. Didn’t like the idea of leavin’ Martha to do it. But with so many men to get together over a big piece of country, it needed him and Jesse both to round them up.’
    ‘Why didn’t you do him the favour, Mr Larkin?’
    ‘Said I’d think about it, kid. Kept thikin’ instead of how I saw Jesse last night. Ridin’ south real fast. How he didn’t look sick from liquor to me. And how, if he got sick of a sudden, he was close enough to home to make it. Instead of beddin’ down in the timber.’
    ‘But you didn’t say anything, right?’
    A shake of the head. ‘No, kid. On account of I’m an old man who likes to eat regular. And likes workin’ in the timber to earn my bread. But if the people hereabouts started to cut their own stove wood ... well...’
    ‘Sure, Mr Larkin.’
    ‘Course, kid, if I was asked right out, I wouldn’t lie about what I seen.’
    ‘Bye-bye, Mr Larkin.’
    He clucked to the horse and tugged gently on the reins to head him across the clearing toward the point where the north trail led into the timber, called after him.
    ‘Appreciate it,’ Gold acknowledged, and leaned to the side, to flick the partially-smoked cheroot into the fire, a scowl on his face as if the tobacco had suddenly started to taste bad.
    And felt the tug of a bullet snag at his coat sleeve. At the same instant as he heard the crack of a rifle. An instant before John Lloyd Larkin grunted and rasped: ‘Shit, some bastard shot me.’
     

CHAPTER SEVEN
     
    BARNABY Gold kicked free of the left stirrup and straightened his right leg using the leverage of his right foot in the stirrup to power a headlong leap from the saddle. The gelding, calm in the wake of the sudden gunshot, was alarmed by the abrupt actions of his rider. Reared and bolted.
    Gold slammed hard to the ground and grunted with the pain of the impact.
    ‘Hillbilly sonsofbitches!’ Larkin shrieked.
    And as Gold forced himself into a fast roll through the drifting smoke of the fire he caught a glimpse of the logger. Who had stood up and picked up his axe to carry on working as the younger man made to leave. And by so doing had placed his naked torso in the line of fire of the rifle. So that when Gold unwittingly