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

ill.
    Barney Kilrone was there…or had he pulled out? For the first time in hours, Paddock thought of Denise. Suppose Barney took her away with him?
    Denise there at the fort.…He had not permitted himself to think of what could happen if the post was attacked. He had thought only of the trap he could spring on the hostiles, of the victory he could win, and of the probable results of that victory.
    Hank Laban got to his feet. “I’ll scout on ahead,” he said. “I don’t like the feel of things, Major.”
    “All right…go ahead.” Paddock got up slowly. His legs felt stiff, and he was sore from the unaccustomed riding.
    God, what he wouldn’t give for a drink!

 
     
    Chapter 6
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    I T WAS MID-MORNING when Barney Kilrone opened his eyes. For several minutes he lay still, adjusting himself to his surroundings. He had seen Frank Paddock leave with the detachment, and then at the urging of Denise and Betty he had agreed to lie down for a few minutes. He had slept for five hours.
    Clasping his hands behind his head, he considered the situation. Paddock might be right, and he might trap Medicine Dog and administer a crushing defeat on the Indians. But that was not the way to figure it. What if the Dog survived, or evaded the fight? Suppose the Dog was the master tactician the Indians were saying he was?
    Barney Kilrone had a fast, durable horse. The way west was clear. He could saddle up and ride west and south for Virginia City. He was no longer in the cavalry, and the problem of the post was not his problem. Even if he got into hostile country, the chances were that he could slip through, just as he had in coming here. One man alone, particularly if that man knew how to travel cross-country, had a good chance to get through.
    Yet even as he considered the possibility, he knew he would not do it. His duty was clear. He must remain at the post until one of the detachments returned. His rifle might make a difference.
    Defending the entire post was out of the question with the few men they had. They must gather all the people into one or two buildings, get enough ammunition, food, and water there for an extended siege.
    There was a tap on the door, and he swung his feet to the boards and stood up. “Come in!”
    It was Denise. “You’re awake, then. Would you like breakfast?”
    Betty Considine was still there, and for the first time he really saw her. A slender but well-rounded girl with a lovely face, tanned from sun and wind…but not too much.
    “How is your shoulder?” she asked.
    “Stiff. Thanks for changing the dressing.”
    It was very still, the only sound the ring of a hammer on metal from the blacksmith shop. The constant undercurrent of movement, the vague rustle and stir of an army post was lacking. Now the clang of the blacksmith’s hammer only served to emphasize the unnatural stillness.
    “Who is in command?” Kilrone asked.
    “Sergeant Ryerson, I suppose,” Denise said. “Lieutenant Rybolt should be back at any time.”
    “Tim Ryerson?”
    “Do you know him?”
    “He was in my outfit in Arizona.”
    Then they talked casually about many things, remembering people and places, talking of army posts other than this, and of Paris during and after the Franco-Prussian War, when Frank Bell Paddock and Barnes Kilrone had been present as observers, with semi-official positions but at their own expense.
    The coffee was good, and Kilrone was content to stretch out his legs under the table and to talk quietly, though always as he talked there was the nagging thought in the back of his mind that their time might be running out.
    Over the roofs of the barracks he could see the gray sky. The night would be dark, a night without moon, without stars. The wind stirred gently, a wind that would cover the sound of any approach.
    He looked up the parade ground toward the Headquarters building. It was strong, thick-walled, a place where a defense might be made, and the post warehouse was right along