Ghost Valley by William W. Johnstone Read Free Book Online Page A

steep climb. Ride three or four miles until you come to a little stream. Swing off the road and follow that stream through the pines. It’s a rough climb in places. I hope you’re riding a good mountain horse.”
    â€œI am.”
    â€œThe stream wanders for about six miles. You’ll come to a place where it cuts between two ridges. Ride up the more nothern one. There won’t be any trail to follow. Ride slow and very carefully. When you come to the top you’ll be looking into Ghost Valley. There’s an old Indian burial ground down below. You’ll see the mounds. The mining town is to the east—what’s left of it.”
    â€œWhat about those old Indians, Doc? I thought I saw one yesterday near the Glenwood Springs Cemetery as I was riding into town.”
    â€œSome people claim they can see them. I’ve never seen one. I think it’s poppycock. The Anasazi have been gone for hundreds of years.”
    â€œI saw something,” Frank assured him. “My dog growled when he saw it. The Indian wasn’t my imagination.” He left out the part about the whispered voice he’d heard.
    â€œMaybe he was a Ute or a Shoshoni,” Holliday suggested as he wiped his mouth again, “although most of the tribes have been driven farther north by the Army.”
    â€œHe was an Indian, whatever breed he was.” Right then, Frank couldn’t shake the eerie feeling that perhaps he had seen a ghost, even though there wasn’t a superstitious bone in his body that he knew of.
    Holliday dismissed the subject with a wave of a pale hand. “I’ve never seen an Indian around here and I’ve been here for three months. I’ve only been bedridden over the past month. As you can see, I’m at death’s doorway. Doc Grimes tells me it won’t be long now.”
    â€œSorry to hear it, Doc,” Frank said.
    â€œFunny,” Holliday told him, smiling as he stared up at the ceiling. “I’ve always assumed a bullet in the back would take me to my grave. I’d planned to die with my boots on, as the old saying goes. This is a horrible way for a man to cash in his chips.”
    â€œI’d rather go out quick myself,” Frank agreed.
    Holliday glanced at him. “You may get your chance if Pine or Vanbergen sees you first. They won’t do it honorably. You can bet your last dollar on that.”
    â€œI’ve already become acquainted with them,” Frank said in a low growl. “I’ll be ready when the time comes.”
    â€œYou sound like a very confident fellow, Morgan. Are you that good with a gun?”
    â€œI’ve gotten by. Tried to quit years ago, until this business with my son came about.”
    â€œGood luck, Morgan,” Holliday said, his voice trailing off. “Now if you don’t mind, I need to close my eyes. I just took a dose of laudanum and I’m sleepy. Follow that stream until it passes between those ridges. Ride up to the crest of the valley, and from there on, you’d better have eyes in the back of your head.”
    â€œI’m obliged, Doc,” Frank said, coming to his feet. “I wish you the best.”
    â€œMy best days are already gone, Morgan,” Holliday replied as his eyelids batted shut. “However, I must say I had a wonderful time while it lasted.”
    Frank started for the door.
    â€œOne more thing, Morgan,” Holliday said, his throat clotted so that he was hard to understand.
    â€œWhat’s that, Doc?”
    â€œMake sure nobody follows you out of town. Vanbergen and Pine have friends here. Quite possibly back-shooters who have been warned to keep an eye out for you.”
    â€œI killed one of them last night. Sheriff Tom Brewer made it real plain he didn’t want me hanging around. Makes me wonder if he’s a friend to Pine and Vanbergen.”
    â€œI doubt if you have anything to fear from Brewer,” Holliday said, his