Novel 1966 - Kid Rodelo (v5.0) by Louis L’Amour Read Free Book Online Page B

Tom Badger was calm, cool, dangerous. Joe Harbin was a man of sudden, terrible passions, of long, brooding hatreds leading to sudden moments of killing fury. Gopher was not so much like a gopher as like a rat, quick to run, quick to squeal with fear, but if he was cornered he would be ready to slash out at anything, even himself.
    And what of Nora? Rodelo was mystified by Nora. Who was she? How had she come to be with these men? What did she want? Where was she going?
    He had watched her. There were little refinements about her that puzzled him. She was, despite what one might have imagined, a girl with the instincts and perhaps the training of a lady. Her language was good. She had none of the careless, often rough talk of drifting frontier women. She was obviously not Joe Harbin’s woman, although he had plans in that direction. Tom Badger resented her, and that was because she represented a threat to their escape.
    Badger knew they dared carry no excess baggage. He knew their escape was going to be touch and go, and there shouldn’t be anyone extra to worry about. Above all, Nora was another mouth that drank water.
    They rode on through the blazing afternoon, heads hanging, mouths dry. Several times they drank a little water, and from time to time they stopped to sponge the mouths of their horses.
    The mirages vanished, and the mountains far off to the south turned blue, then purple. The sun declined, the shadows grew long, and canyons bulged with darkness, ominous and threatening. The sky was streaked with flame; a few scattered clouds were edged with gold.
    Dan Rodelo turned in his saddle and looked back. There was nothing. No sign of dust, only the quiet beauty of a desert when the sun has gone.
    Tom Badger had slowed his pace. His face was streaked with dust and sweat. “How far to Tinajas Altas?” he asked.
    “Too far.” Rodelo gestured toward the low mountains along which they rode. “We’ll cross over here and take a chance. There’s a tank over there by Raven’s Butte. Sometimes it has a little water.”
    He led the way. The going was no better and no worse than they had had before—a dim, rocky trail to be followed single file. They found the tank in a canyon southwest of Raven’s Butte.
    Rodelo swung down. “There’s not enough here for the horses,” he said, “but it will help.”
    He led each horse to drink, counted slowly while they drank to allow each horse an equal amount. When the horses had finished, the tank held no more than a cup of water.
    When they left Raven’s Butte, going south, they walked the horses. It was about seven miles, Dan Rodelo decided, to Tinajas Atlas. There would be water there, and they could fill their canteens, then water the horses again. They would need every drop they could get.
    “No Injuns,” Gopher said triumphantly. “We lost ’em.”
    Harbin glanced at him contemptuously, but made no comment. It was Badger who spoke. “Don’t you fool yourself, kid. They’re back there, and they’re comin’ on.”
    “Do you really think they’ll catch up with us?” Nora asked Rodelo.
    “They’re in no hurry,” he said. “They can catch up all right, but they will wait until the desert has had time to work on us.”
    It was full dark by the time they reached Tinajas Altas, where they camped on the flat desert in a cove in the ridge. They built a small fire and made coffee. Nora sliced some of the bacon from a slab they had bought, among other food supplies, from Sam Burrows. They were not hungry, only exhausted from the heat and the savage travel over the blistering desert.
    Presently the moon rose, and Tom Badger took up several canteens. “Let’s see if there’s water,” he said.
    Rodelo went ahead. He had been here only once before, but he found his way to the place where some traveler had left a rope trailing to help climbers. “The lowest tank is usually half full of sand, but there’s water under it,” he explained to Badger. “We’ll try the