Milo Talon by Louis L’Amour Read Free Book Online Page B

Obviously, he wanted nothing that could be traced to him.
    It made no sense. I had been hired to find a girl. She was to become the heiress to all Jefferson Henry owned, but why had the Magoffins been killed, and by whom? Who were the messengers who came to the private car in the middle of the night? Who was the man who had been pursued on the plain?
    There was a potbellied stove at the end of the room and I walked over; striking a match, I burned the letter and the envelope it came in.
    Then, for a moment, I considered dropping the case. After all, I was not a detective. I was but a drifting cowhand, accepting whatever job was offered. The trouble was I could no longer repay the money I’d been given. Nor could I be sure of quitting without being murdered. Maybe I already knew too much, or they would believe I did.
    The only way out was at the end of the tunnel, and I must find the way.
    Moreover, I was now worried about the girl I was to find, Nancy Henry. Whatever was happening revolved about her, and she might herself be in danger. I was beginning to wonder just why Jefferson Henry was so eager to find her. To protect her, perhaps? A look into the past of Henry might be informative, if I had the time.
    To give the appearance of doing something I sat down and wrote a number of letters, letters to people on the shady side of things, and to others who might know the Magoffins, Humphrey Tuttle, Wade Hallett, John Topp, or even Jefferson Henry.
    Just before the train came in I took my letters to the station and mailed them directly on the train. Some would go by stage to places not that far away and off the line of the railroad.
    My hopes were faint, yet some of that crowd knew all that was going on, for among criminals there are few secrets, and knowing was surviving.
    An idea occurred to me. If I was watched I must do what I was about to do without being suspected, and I must get that baggage that Penny Logan was holding for me and get it back without being suspected.
    Wandering into the general store, I puttered arounduntil the proprietor came over. “Lookin’ for somethin’ in p’tic’lar?”
    Having made sure there was nothing of the kind in the store, I told him I was hunting for a large suitcase. “Looks like I’ve got to go to St. Louis,” I said, just loud enough to be heard by others in the store, “and I need something to carry my clothes or else something to stow it in whilst I’m gone.” With my hands I measured out too large a suitcase.
    “I don’t have anything quite that big, I’m afraid,” he admitted.
    “Isn’t there a store named Larkin’s?” I asked. “Mightn’t they have one?”
    “Larkin’s? That’s not here in town. It’s twenty miles west of here. Yes, they might have it. They carry a very large stock.”
    “Give me an excuse to ride the cars,” I said. “Have you ridden them?”
    “No,” the proprietor said, “and I don’t want to. Too fast for me. Why, one of the trainmen said they sometimes get up to forty miles an hour! Of course, he’s lying, but even so it’s too fast for me.”
    “You don’t say! Now I’d like that. Maybe I’ll just take a run over to Larkin’s.”
    “Sorry I don’t have what you want. Larkin has more space than I do and he might just stock something that large.”
    When I walked back to the restaurant, all was quiet except for the piano in the Golden Spur. John Topp was sitting by the window when I stepped into Maggie’s and more than likely had seen every step I took, which was just the way I wanted it.
    Molly Fletcher came in and took my order. “Going to take a ride on them steam cars,” I bragged. “Going over to Larkin’s to pick up some stuff, new suitcase and such. Did you ever ride the cars?”
    “Yes, I have.”
    “I’ll ride ’em both ways, down in the noontime, back in time for supper. Doesn’t seem possible, somehow. That fast, and all.”
    Actually, I’d ridden trains a good bit, but they could not know that. I’d