Louisiana Laydown by Jon Sharpe Read Free Book Online

all wound up out here with this crowd betting on the outcome.”
    The boy, Fargo saw, was giving a pretty good accounting for himself, but for every punch he threw, the other two men landed three or four. It wouldn’t be long until they’d pounded him senseless, maybe even killed him. Believing that coincidences happened for a reason, Fargo made a quick decision. “Hey, mister, ” he said, swinging down out of the saddle. “Hold my horse for five dollars?”
    “Sure,” the man said, watching with interest as Fargo unbuckled his gunbelt and put it in a saddlebag. “Just be careful in there. Those two men beating on Tommy have got friends in the crowd and none of them play by the rules.”
    Fargo grinned. “Neither do I,” he said.
    He started shoving people out of the way, breaking through the crowd just as Tommy went down to his knees. One of the men was shouting at him. “Get up, boy. You ain’t gotten half the ass beating you’re due.”
    Stepping into the circle, Fargo said, “I think he’s probably had enough, mister. Why don’t you and your partner there just move along now?”
    “Who the hell are you?” one of the men demanded. “We got us a fight going here.”
    Fargo chuckled. “This isn’t a fight. Two against one and you men outweigh him by a good fifty pounds each. That’s not a fight.” He let the grin slide off his face, and his eyes turned serious. “On the other hand, if you don’t end this right now, you will have a fight. The boy has had enough. It’s over.”
    “Go to hell, mister,” the man said. He was heavyset and dark haired, with about three or four days of dark stubble on his cheeks. Other than a swelling beneath one eye, he didn’t look too much the worse for wear. “Mind your own damn business or we’ll give you a taste of the same.”
    “I was hoping you’d say that,” Fargo said, striding forward. “It makes everything a lot easier to explain.”
    The other one—a blond-haired, broad-shouldered man missing one of his front teeth—didn’t bother talking. He simply lunged forward, attempting to take Fargo off guard.
    Stepping sideways, Fargo brought up his boot and caught the man square in the stomach. The air went out of him with a heavy whomp . As he started to go down, Fargo spun and planted a heavy punch right behind the man’s ear. He dropped like a sack of oats and didn’t get up again.
    “That about evens the odds,” he said, looking at the other man. “Now, I’m going to ask you one more time to move along.”
    The man started to say something, but that was all the time Tommy Anderson gave him. In the lull, he’d gotten a chance to catch his breath and get a second wind. He hit the unsuspecting man from behind, driving him to the ground.
    Fargo stepped back to watch, wanting to make sure that the other man wasn’t going to get up and rejoin the fray. As he’d suspected, one-on-one, the kid was a pretty decent fighter. He watched as the two men squared off, and Tommy snapped several sharp jabs into the man’s face, stinging him. He tried to keep his hands up to defend himself, but when that didn’t work, he charged Tommy with the roar of a wounded bear.
    But Tommy was faster, and sidestepped the rush, snapping out several more punches that staggered his opponent. In another minute, the fight was over, the larger man splayed out on the ground, holding his head and moaning about his missing teeth.
    Tommy moved over to where Fargo was standing and nodded. “Thanks, mister,” he said. “You saved me for sure.”
    Fargo peered at the crowd and noticed several of the onlookers were headed their way. “Best save your thanks for later and brace yourself, boy,” he said. “Looks like these other fellers want in on the action.”
    “Damn,” he muttered. “I’m already dog tired.”
    “No time to be tired,” Fargo said. He took several steps away from Tommy, making sure he had room to move freely. Two of the men moved toward him, while the third