Twin Guns by Wick Evans Read Free Book Online Page B

He dropped the shell case into his vest pocket. "You may have winged the whacker," he told Josh. "Else he cut his finger. Quite a few spots of blood scattered around. Reckon I'll stop by the doc's first, then mosey around and keep my eye peeled. Do I find me a jasper with a hole in him, I'm going to be plumb curious. You got any guesses, boy?"
    "Not a one, Lon."
    "Maybe I shouldn't say so. Will, anyway. There's three hombres in town tonight might like a shot at you. B'lieve I'll just have me a little talk with 'em. They're Hub Dawes, the gunslick I run outa town, and your brother." He heaved a vast sigh. "When I run a man outa town, I like him to stay run. Do I find that gunslick, b'lieve I'll just see how fast he is with his cutter. You'll hear from me."
    Kirby and his foreman turned in as soon as he left. Josh was almost instantly asleep, but Kirby found it hard to close his eyes. There were too many thoughts racing like scudding clouds before the wind. He knew a sickness in his stomach when he thought of Bill. He had never had a chance to brace him about his rustled cows.
    And then there was the problem of Jen's illness. He felt the warmth of her goodnight kiss again as he fell asleep.
    A banging on their door next morning brought him to his feet, reaching for his gun. The sheriff's tired voice came through the door. "You men goin' to sleep all day? It's danged nigh six o'clock."
    Lon came in and waited while they climbed into their clothes and took turns at the marble-topped washstand. While Kirby scraped at his beard, he told them: "Couldn't find hair nor hide of the gunslick. Musta remembered he wasn't wanted in town. Dawes come in the Nugget 'bout an hour after the shootin'. Looked close, but couldn't see a mark on him." He sighed apologetically. "Couldn't have been Bill. He was in the Nugget, too drunk to know one end of a rifle from another. Doc didn't patch no one up, either. Darn poor lawman… can't find my own shadow."
    They followed the still grumbling old man to the dining room. Curly and Ringo, red-eyed but happy, were working on a big platter of ham and eggs. Peters declined their invitation to breakfast. "Already et," he said. "Got some thinkin' to do. If I turn up anything, I'll send you word."
    After breakfast, Josh went to see about supplies and Kirby sent his two punchers to the livery to hitch up. "Better rustle Josh a bronc to ride, too," he ordered. "Then come 'round to Miss Bryant's place."
    Jen was waiting for him, dressed and sitting in a rocker, a quilt thrown over her lap. She accepted his kiss, blushing, as Maria came into the room. The old woman's grin was pleased.
    Here Kirby got to his feet and took a step or two up and down the room. "Jen, listen. I've got to get back out to Wagon before this weather breaks. I expect Maria would like to get home to Manuel, too. But neither of us would be able to stand the thought of you being in town alone. Doc says you won't be able to open school again until after Christmas. I stopped on the way over here, and he said if you were bundled up good and warm, a ride wouldn't hurt you. What I'm trying to say is, won't you come back with us to Wagon, until after Christmas, anyway? Maria can look after you better out there, and I…" He stopped, puzzled by the look they exchanged. He was hurt when Jen burst into sudden laughter.
    "We were just waiting for you to invite me," she told him. "We're both packed and ready when you are."
    "You women," he growled sheepishly, "letting a man make a fool of himself."
    Curly stood holding the team by their bridles as Kirby tucked Jen into the rig, swathed in blankets and with hot bricks in the straw at her feet. Ringo and Josh were on borrowed broncs, and Kirby climbed aboard the black stud. It was a happy, light-hearted little cavalcade that left behind the muddy town streets and took the trail for Wagon. The mood lasted until they reached the fork in the trail where one track led to Lazy B, the other along the Clear to