laughed. âThis here fella ainât likely to be ridinâ in no parlor car,â he said. âMaybe he missed the train. Whenâs the next one down from Austin?â
âI believe there will be another one tonight at midnight.â
âAll right, I reckon I can wait on it,â Preston said. âIâll just go have me a few drinks before then.â
As Preston walked away from the depot, he didnât glance toward the four people who had just gotten down from the parlor car. If he had, he might have recognized Smoke Jensen as the man with whom he had had a run-in back in Colorado about ten years earlier.
There were twelve saloons in Corpus Christi, and Preston looked through half of them before he found Manning and Waco Jones. Even though it was not yet noon, both men were drunk.
C HAPTER E IGHT
Like Preston, Kleberg had watched the passengers detrain without seeing who he was looking for.
âWhat about this mysterious person you are looking for?â King asked. âHave you seen him yet?â
âNo, sir,â Kleberg answered. âNot yet.â
At that moment, Kleberg looked toward the front of the train and saw Smoke Jensen leading a horse down a ramp from the attached stock car. He smiled.
âThere he is,â Kleberg said.
âThere who is?â
âToward the front of the train. You see the fella leading the horse down the ramp?â
By now, there were three men leading horses down the ramp.
âWhich one?â
âThe one in front,â Kleberg said.
âYes, I see him. What about him?â
âThatâs Smoke Jensen.â
âSmoke Jensen?â King asked. âWait a minute. Do you mean the Smoke Jensen? The famous gunfighter?â
âYes.â
âWell, it would be interesting to meet him, I suppose,â King said. âI mean, Iâve certainly heard a lot about him over the years. But Iâm curious. How did you happen to know he would be on this train?â
âBecause I sent for him,â Kleberg said.
âYou sent for him?â
âYes.â
âI donât understand. Why would he come just because you sent for him?â
âHe owes me a big, big favor,â Kleberg replied.
âAnd that brings me to my second question. Why did you send for him?â
âI figured he could help us with our . . . uh . . . problem,â Kleberg said.
King let out a sigh, then put his hand on Klebergâs shoulder.
âLook, Bob, I know you did what you think is right. But I donât want to do that.â
âYou donât want to do what?â
âI donât want to use a hired gun to take care of my problem.â
âRichard, heâs not exactly a hired gun. As far as I know, heâs never actually hired his guns out to anyone. Besides that, he is a wealthy man in his own right. I doubt that he would take any money for his services, even if you offered it to him.â
âThen what would make him get involved?â
âI told you, he owes me a favor. And he has a very strong sense of what is right and what is wrong.â
âHe sounds like an admirable man.â
âHe is, Richard. He is one of the finest men Iâve ever met.â
âThen that makes me all the sorrier that you didnât check with me first. I hate putting an honorable man through all this. But I canât use him, Bob. I just feel that it would only make matters worse.â
âAll right,â Kleberg said, obviously disappointed by Kingâs pronouncement. âIâll go talk to him, and tell him that it was all a mistake, that we wonât be needing him after all.â
âIâm sorry, Bob. I just . . . well, I just wish you had checked with me first, thatâs all.â
âNo, sir, Iâm the one should be sorry,â Kleberg said. âI clearly overstepped my bounds on this, and Iâve put myself in an awkward position. Iâve no one
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
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Brenda Sinclair
Christopher George
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Celya Bowers
Jill Gregory
Aria Cunningham