McAllister by Matt Chisholm Read Free Book Online Page B

him out of here. Within a few minutes, the Indian trotted into view above him to inform him that he hadthree horses and that one of the bushwhackers had got away on another.
    â€œCheck if that one’s dead, then go look for another down in the rocks yonder. And make it snappy, this wound’s making me as hungry as all get out.”
    José inspected the man above and declared him shot through the heart.
    â€œGod-damn it!” Mcallister said, pushing away the queasy feeling it gave him to know he’d killed a man. “I aimed at his head.”
    The Navajo bounded down the grade and declared five minutes later that he had found the other man.
    â€œIs he dead?”
    José nodded.
    â€œHe is
now.”
    Mcallister stared at him.
    â€œYou damned savage,” he said softly, but not without gratitude. “Bring those horses near as you can, slap my saddle on one and let’s light a shuck.”

6
    Mcallister Fainted a couple of times on the trip back and each time he came around, he complained that it was the sun. A man could have too much of it, you know. The Navajo grunted and did not seem impressed.
    Their arrival at the ranch created something of a sensation and Mcallister was the last to complain about the events of the next hour or so. It was plain that he was thought by civilians and military to be a hero, which attribute he accepted with commendable modesty, but as his due. The woman, who at last he learned was named Ann Bankroft, and who seemed to have gotten over most of her shock, insisted that he have her bed. He protested mildly, but not enough to make her withdraw her offer and found himself lying on the best feather mattress he’d known in years and being made a great fuss of. He made a good show of hating it,of course, but a regiment of cavalry wouldn’t have moved him off it.
    Mrs. Bankroft was certainly a frontier wife and no mistake. In no time at all, she had her kettle boiling and was cleaning up that wound of his. She showed the extent of her recovery by nagging him expertly on the fact of men being complete fools and that he must be the biggest fool of them all to have tackled all those bad men with his leg in this state. He sneered at her and liked it. When she fed him gruel, he roared for steak, but accepted the gruel and liked it. He couldn’t do anything else, because he found that he was too weak to feed himself and she sat on the edge of the bed and spooned it into his mouth herself. Maybe it wasn’t right, her being a widow woman for so short a time, but this was the frontier and widow women didn’t pine along much after their husbands were planted. Sure, her eyes were red from weeping and she gave a suspicious sniff now and then, but looking after the desperately wounded Mcallister was doing her a whale of good.
    When she had done with him, von Tannenberg paid him a visit to inquire after his health and to hold council.
    In a remarkably strong voice for a man so weak, Mcallister told the soldier: “Mister, this is the way I see it. Somebody’s after me and I wouldn’t be surprised if they was after your gold too. So that makes it Franchon and some friends of his.”
    â€œBut they were Indians that cut their way into the corral.”
    â€œSure they were. We’re up against two lots here. And my guess is, José an’ me ran into only a few of the white crowd. It looks like they’re so strong they ain’t afraid of Indians.”
    â€œThat is possible.”
    â€œYou’re darn tootin’ it is. Now, this is what you do. First off, get George Rawlins in here.”
    The lieutenant did that and George tramped stolidly into the room, grinning.
    â€œJumpin’ snakes, you’m doin’ all right for yourse’f, boss.”
    â€œTake that grin off’n your face and listen. You checked all Carmody’s goods aboard.”
    â€œYeah. Stake my life they’s all correct, too.”
    â€œWhen