Lassiter Tough by Loren Zane Grey Read Free Book Online Page B

horizons, providing he had his usual gunfighter’s luck against Sanlee. Of course, he was under no illusions, knowing that quite possibly one day he would meet a better man.
    But he hoped when the gun smoke cleared, Sanlee would be dead. Millie would probably inherit Diamond Eight. At least she’d have that much.
    With that settled in his mind, he ate supper and rolled up in his blankets. Sleep didn’t come easily and it seemed only an hour had passed before Herrera was shaking him awake to take a turn as nighthawk with the herd.
    Two days later, Ad Deverax was back in the Santos country, after a lengthy detour all the way down from Ardon, New Mexico. . . .

7
----
    That morning Brad Sanlee was called aside by Doug Krinkle. Sanlee had just missed a cast with his rope and was in an ugly mood. His broad, bearded face bore numerous scratches from tangling with a steer in a thicket.
    â€œDeverax is back,” Krinkle said, cupping his hands to shout above the noise of yelling men and pounding cattle.
    â€œBolin with him?” Sanlee demanded.
    â€œAd’s alone,” Krinkle replied, his heavily freckled face tight with concern.
    â€œIf the son of a bitch wants his job back, tell him to try the moon.”
    â€œAd’s got somethin’ to tell you. It’s important, he claims.”
    â€œWhere the hell’s he been all this time? Likely layin’ up in some
congal
with a chica.”
    â€œHe’s been in a hospital up at Wheeler City.”
    â€œHospital?”
    â€œHe’s shot bad, Brad.” Krinkle gestured at a wagon.
    Sanlee scowled, wound his catch rope, then mounted up and rode over to where Deverax was lying in the bed of a ranch wagon.
    â€œWhat the hell happened to you?” Sanlee asked the tall man who lay on straw in the wagon. Deverax was so thinned down that Sanlee hardly recognized him. Through the dirty, unbuttoned shirt could be seen a pack of stained bandages.
    â€œI know the fella’s here,” Deverax gasped. “The one that done it. I seen him here. . . .”
    â€œDone what, for Chris’ sakes?”
    â€œKilled Bolin an’ put a bullet in me. Leastwise I think Bolin’s dead. I rode like hell. He was trailin’ me but it rained one night an’ I gave him the slip. But I was so bad by then, I had to hunt up a doc. . . .”
    â€œWho the hell you talkin’ about, anyhow?”
    Krinkle cut in. “He saw Lassiter a while ago. He says it’s him.”
    Sanlee drew a deep breath.
“Lassiter?”
    Deverax nodded weakly. “Doug says it’s his name.”
    Sanlee jerked his thumb at Krinkle. “Get back to work, Doug.” He didn’t want too many details of the New Mexico venture spread about. Deverax and Bolin had been his two most trusted underlings, which was why he had taken them along on the hunt for the runaway Millie.
    When Krinkle was gone, Sanlee leaned into the wagon. “Tell me about it, Ad.”
    Deverax was so weak he could speak only a few words at a time. “You told me an’ . . . Bolin . . . to stay behind . . . an’ at full dark to finish off Tevis. . . .This Lassiter was there by then . . . in the house. . . . I thought Bolin got him sure, but the next thing I knew, Bolin is down an’ I’m hit bad. . . .”
    â€œLassiter,” Sanlee said softly through his teeth. “Then it wasn’t a coincidence, his coming to Texas.” Sanlee could speak decent English when he felt like it. “How’d Lassiter find out about me?”
    â€œTevis, I reckon. Your bullet didn’t finish him, remember?”
    â€œYou get back to the ranch an’ keep your mouth shut, Ad. You hear me?”
    Deverax nodded. Then Sanlee shouted at the older ranch hand who had driven Deverax out to the roundup camp. “You get him home, pronto.”
    Sanlee stood in the hot spring sunlight, sweating. He thought about Lassiter and all that had happened. Then,