The Lawless West by Louis L’Amour Read Free Book Online Page A

amaze, when she heard a thud of hoofs and cracking of branches in the opposite direction from which she expected her pursuer, to see a rider emerge from the cedars and trot his horse toward her. Jane needed only a second glance to recognize Beady Jones. Surely she had met him by chance. Suddenly she knew that he was not the pursuer she had been so angrily aware of. Jones’s horse was white. That checked her mounting anger.
    Jones rode straight at her, and, as he came close, Jane saw his bold dark face and gleaming eyes. Instantly she realized she had been mad to ride so far into the wild country, to expose herself to something from which the cowboys had always tried to save her.
    “Howdy, sweetheart,” said Jones in his cool, devil-may-care way. “Reckon it took you a long time to meet me as you promised.”
    “I didn’t ride out to meet you, Mister Jones,” replied Jane spiritedly. “I know I agreed to something or other, but even then I didn’t mean it.”
    “Yes, I had a hunch you was playin’ with me,” he returned darkly, riding right up against her horse.
    He reached out a long gloved hand and grasped her arm.
    “What do you mean, sir?” demanded Jane, trying to wrench free.
    “Sure I mean a lot,” he said grimly. “You stood for the love-makin’ of that Springer outfit. Now you’re goin’ to get a taste of somethin’ not so mushy.”
    “Let go of me…you…you ruffian!” cried Jane, struggling fiercely. She was both furious and terrified. But she seemed to be a child in the grasp of a giant.
    “Hell! Your fightin’ will only make it interestin’. Come here, you deceitful little cat.”
    And he lifted her out of her saddle over in front of him. Jane’s horse, that had been frightened and plunging, ran away into the cedars. Then gently the cowboy proceeded to embrace Jane. She managed to keep her mouth from contact with his, but he kissed her face and neck, kisses that seemed to pollute her.
    “Jane, I’m ridin’ out of this country for good,” he said. “An’ I’ve just been waitin’ for this chance. You bet you’ll remember Beady Jones.”
    Jane realized that this Jones would stop at nothing. Frantically she fought to get away from him and to pitch herself to the ground. She screamed. She beat and tore at him. She scratched his face till the blood flowed. And as her struggles increased with her fright, she gradually slipped down between him and the pommel of his saddle with head hanging down on one side and her feet on the other. This was awkward and painful, but infinitely preferable to being crushed in his arms. He was riding off with her as if she had been an empty sack. Suddenly Jane’s hands, while trying to hold onto something tolessen the severe jolt of her position, came in contact with Jones’s gun. Dare she draw it and shoot him? Then all at once her ears filled with the tearing gallop of another horse. Inverted as she was, she was able to see and recognize Springer ride right at Jones and yell piercingly.
    Next she felt Jones’s hard jerk at his gun. But Jane had hold of it, and suddenly she made her little hands like steel. The fierce energy with which Jones wrestled to draw his gun threw Jane from the saddle. And when she dropped clear of the horse, the gun came with her.
    “Hands up, Beady!” she heard Springer call out, as she lay momentarily face down in the dust. Then she struggled to her knees, and crawled to get away from proximity to the horses. She still clung to the heavy gun. And when breathless and almost collapsing she fell back on the ground, she saw Jones with his hands above his head and Springer on foot with leveled gun.
    “Sit tight, cowboy,” ordered the rancher in hard tone. “It’ll take damn’ little to make me bore you.” Then, while still covering Jones, evidently ready for any sudden move, Springer spoke again. “Jane, did you come out to meet this cowboy?”
    “Oh, no! How can you ask that?” cried Jane, almost sobbing.
    “She’s