Those Jensen Boys! by William W. Johnstone Read Free Book Online Page B

said. “Chance and I need to pick up some supplies.”
    â€œSo do we,” Bess said. “Why don’t we meet you at the general store once we’ve handled our mail business?”
    Ace nodded “Sure. We’ll be there for a while. When do you start back to Palisade?”
    â€œFirst thing in the morning. We always spend the night when we make this run. There are a couple cots in the office at the depot.”
    Chance said, “I see a hotel on the other side of the street. I suppose Ace and I can get a room there for the night.”
    Emily frowned. “Wait a minute. You’re making it sound like you’re going back to Palisade with us.”
    â€œWe thought we would,” Ace said. “If Eagleton wants to ruin your father’s company as much as you say he does, he’s liable to have his men try something else.”
    â€œWe don’t have anyplace where we have to be,” Chance added. “Palisade is as good as any.”
    â€œDrifters usually don’t have anywhere they have to be,” Emily said, still wearing a disapproving frown. “But I suppose it’s a free country and if you want to ride in that direction, we can’t stop you.”
    â€œBetter be careful,” Chance told her. “Keep talking like that and folks might think you’re warming up to us.”
    â€œFat chance of that!” Emily said with a disgusted glare.
    The coach rolled on toward the railroad station while Ace and Chance turned their horses toward a building with MERCANTILE painted in big letters across its front above the entrance. They tied their mounts at a hitch rack and climbed the steps to the high porch.
    The store was fairly busy. They had to wait a few minutes for an apron-wearing clerk behind the counter at the rear to ask how he could help them.
    Ace gave the man the list of what they needed—staples like coffee, flour, beans, and bacon—while Chance roamed around the store looking at the various displays of merchandise. He leaned over a glass-topped case and studied several nickel-plated, ivory-handled derringers. He was particularly taken with a two-barreled, over/under model. According to what somebody had written on the piece of cardboard beneath it, the weapon was a .38 caliber, so it would take the same ammunition as his Lightning.
    Ace came up beside him and asked, “What are you looking at?”
    â€œI want that derringer,” Chance said, pointing at the little gun. “Never can tell when it might come in handy.”
    â€œThere’s nothing wrong with the gun you’ve got.”
    â€œYeah, but didn’t you ever want something just because you wanted it? And we can afford it. We’ve still got a good stake from that poker game.”
    â€œWe won’t have if we waste it.”
    â€œBuying a gun’s not wasteful,” Chance argued. “That little beauty might save our lives someday.”
    Ace shook his head. “I’m not going to be able to talk you out of it, am I?”
    â€œProbably not,” Chance replied with a grin.
    â€œWell, I told the clerk we’d pick up those supplies before we ride out in the morning, so I reckon if you’re still bound and determined to have it then . . .”
    â€œOh, I will be.”
    â€œI don’t doubt it for a second,” Ace said.
    They walked toward the front of the store and stepped out onto the porch to wait for the Corcoran sisters. The stagecoach was still parked in front of the depot, but there was no sign of Bess and Emily, who were probably still inside tending to their business.
    Ace and Chance had been standing there for only a few minutes when Ace said quietly, “Badge coming.”
    A man in a black frock coat and string tie was crossing the street toward the general store. He had a clean-shaven, hawk-like face and iron-gray hair under his black hat. A holstered pistol with walnut grips rode on his right hip. As Ace had