Killoe (1962) by Louis L'amour Read Free Book Online

grew along the banks, and the place we fund to locate was a big open meadow of some thirty or forty acres . The cattle scattered along the creek to drink, then wandered back into the meadow to feed.
    Pa came back to where I was sitting my horse in the shade of a big pecan. "Good country," he said. "It tempts a man."
    "It does," I said, "and it might be a good thing to hold up here another day and let the cattle fatten up and drink their fill. From now on, according to Tap, the country gets drier and drier."
    Tap rode up to join us, and Zeb Lambert followed. The wagons were bunching in a rough circle near the bank of the stream. A faint breeze stirred the leaves of the trees.
    Tap glanced across the Concho at the bluffs beyond the river. Close to where we sat, the Antelope joined the Concho, and the Concho itself pointed our way west.
    "I don't like those bluffs," Tap commented, "but we're as safe here as anywhere, I guess."
    Pa told him what we were thinking, and he agreed. We couldn't have chosen a better place to stop, for we had some shelter here from any wind that might blow up, there was good water, and there was grass. The youngsters were already rousing around in the leaves and finding a few pecans left over from the previous fall.
    Switching saddles to a line-back dun, I rode over to the wagon where the Mexican was riding. He was propped up a little, and he had some color in his face.
    "I'm Dan Killoe," I said.
    He held out a slender brown hand and smiled; his teeth were very white. "'Gracias, amigo.
    You have save my life, I think. I could go no further."
    "You'd crawled a fair piece. I don't see how you did it."
    He shrugged. "It was water I needed, and a place to hide." He grew serious. "' Senor , I must warn you. By sheltering me you will make the enemy . . . even many enemies."
    "A man who makes tracks in this world makes enemies also," I said. "I figure a few more won't matter."
    "These are very bad . . . malo. They are the Comancheros."
    "I've heard of them. Some of your people who trade with the Comanches, is that it?"
    "Si . . . and we do not approve, senor .
    They found me in their country and they shot at me. I escaped, and they pursued .
    . I killed one Comanchero, and one Comanche. Then they hit me. I fell, they caught me with a rope and dragged me. I got out my knife and cut the rope and I took that man's horse from him and rode ... they pursued again. My horse was killed, but they did not catch me."
    This Mexican was something of a man. In my mind's eye I could see that drag and that chase. The only way he could get that horse was to kill its rider, and after that horse was killed he had dragged himself a far piece.
    "You rest easy," I told him. "Comanchero or Comanche, nobody is going to bother you."
    "They will come for me.'" He hitched himself to a better position. "You give me a horse and I shall ride. There is no need to risk."
    "Let them come." I got down on the ground. "The Good Book says that man is born to trouble. Well, I don't figure on going against the Bible. What trouble comes, we will handle as we can, but nobody in my family ever drove a wounded man from his door, and we aren't about to."
    That line-back dun was a running horse. He was also a horse with bottom. Leaving off the work that had to be done, I started for the Concho, and Zeb Lambert fell in alongside me.
    This was Indian country, and we were expecting them. We scouted along the river for some distance, mainly hunting tracks, or signs of travel, but we found none.
    Across the river we skirted the foot of the bluffs, found a faint trail up, and climbed to the top.
    The wind was free up here, and a man could see for a long distance. We sat our horses, looking over the country. Zeb's brown hair blew in the wind when he turned his head to look.
    The country away from the river was barren, and promised little. But no matter how we searched the country around we saw no movement, nor any tracks. Finally we circled back to camp.
    They