Dutchmans Flat (Ss) (1986) by Louis L'amour Read Free Book Online

the window a few inches.
    "This is Tack Gentry. Where does Childe hang out?"
    Red's whisper was low. "Got him an office and sleepin' room upstairs. There's a back stairway. Yuh watch yoresel f! "
    Tack stepped away from his window and made his way to the stairway he had already glimpsed. It might be a trap, but he believed Red was loyal. Also, he was not sure the word was out to kill him. They probably merely wanted him out of the way and hoped he could be warned to move on. The position of the Hardin group seemed secure enough.
    Reaching the top of the stairs, he walked along the narrow catwalk to the door. He tapped softly. After an instant, there was a voice. "What do you want?"
    "This is Tack Gentry. Yuh talked to me in the saloon!" The door opened to darkness, and he stepped in. When it closed, he felt a pistol barrel against his spine.
    "Hold still!" Childe warned.
    Behind him a match struck, and then a candle was lighted. The light still glowed in the other room, seen only by the crack under the door. Childe grinned at him.
    "Got to be careful," he said. "They have tried twice to dry-gulch me!
    "I put flowers on their graves every Monday!" He smiled. "And keep an extra one dug.
    Ever since I had that new grave dug, I've been left alone. Somehow it seems to have a very sobering influence on the local roughs."
    He sat down. "I tire quicker than I once did. So you're Gentry! Betty London told me about you. She thought you were dead. There was a rumor that you'd been killed by the Indians in Wyoming."
    "No, I came out all right. What I want to know, rememberin' yuh said yuh were a lawyer, is what kind of a claim they have on my ranch?"
    "A good one, unfortunately. While you and your uncle were gone, and most of the other men in the locality, several of these men came in and began to brand cattle. After branding a good many, they left. They returned and began working around, about the time you left, and then they ordered your uncle off.
    "He wouldn't go, and they took the case to court. There were no lawyers here then, and your uncle tried to handle it himself. The judge was their man, and suddenly a half dozen witnesses appeared and were sworn in. They testified that the land had been taken and held by Soderman, Olney, and Hardin.
    "They claimed their brands on the cattle asserted their claim to the land, to the home ranches of both London and Gentry. The free range was something else, but with the two big ranches in their hands and the bulk of the free range lying beyond their holdings, they were in a position to freeze out the smaller ranchers. They established a squatter's right to each of the big ranches."
    "Can they do that?" Tack demanded. "It doesn't seem fair!" "The usual thing is to allow no claim unless they have occupied the land for twenty years without hindrance, but with a carpetbag court, they do about as they please. Judge Weaver is completely in Van Hardin's hands, and your Uncle John was on the losing side in this war."
    "How did Uncle John get killed?" Tack asked.
    Childe shrugged. "They said he called Soderman a liar and Soderman went for his gun.
    Your uncle had a gun on him when they found him. It was probably a cold-blooded killing because Gentry planned on a trip to Austin and was going to appeal the case."
    "Have yuh seen Bill London lately?" "Only once since the accident." "Accident?"
    "Yes, London was headed for home, dozing along in the buckboard as he always did, when his team ran away with him. The buckboard was overturned and London's back was injured. He can't ride anymore and can't sit up very long at a time."
    "Was it really an accident?" Tack wanted to know.
    Childe shrugged. "I doubt it. We couldn't prove a thing. One of the horses had a bad cut on the hip. It looked as if someone with a steel-tipped bullwhip had hit the animal from beside the road."
    "Thorough," Tack said. "They don't miss a bet."
    Childe nodded. Leaning back in his chair he put his feet on the desk. He studied Tack