with work and with patience.”
What was I going to build, I wondered. Anything at all? Or was I just going to find those two men and make them give up what was left of our money. I didn’t like to think of what I wasn’t doing, so I shook it off. I’d heard old men talk before, like pa.
But when I thought of him I remembered how right he had been about Reese and Sites, and how wrong I’d been. Well, that was one time. Now I knew better, and I was going to find those men. And I had several weeks before Con Judy got started with his kind of building.
Lander Owen went off now about his business and I still sat there in the sun, riding my mind down the possible trails those two might have gone. I wasn’t going to let up on them until I had them by the short hair.
It would have been easier, in some ways, if I’d never met Con Judy. He was my friend, maybe the first real friend I ever had, but he had opened doors for me that maybe he’d better left closed. He had introduced me to men who were doing something in the world, men who had the respect of their communities. All of them were building things to last; and me, I was just hunting two men who had taken our money and tried to kill me.
----
F IVE DAYS LATER, on a horse I bought from Lander Owen, I took the trail.
I didn’t aim to ride into Leadville, because I didn’t want Con Judy to talk me out of it, or anybody else. I was giving myself three weeks to find them, and if by that time I hadn’t, I would double back, take Con’s job, and stay on it until I earned some money.
Vashti was there to say good-bye, although she didn’t hold with my going. She said it, and then turned her back on me and walked away. I was looking after her, thinking I should say something I hadn’t said, when Lander stepped up close.
“Boy, Con is probably right, and Vash, too. Me, I lived with redskins too long. I figure you got it to do, so I’ll tell you this: When they pulled out they were headed for the Frying Pan country, and they’d teamed up with two more outlaws, Burns King and Pit Burnett.”
Burnett I’d seen a couple of times in Leadville. He had been a hanger-on around State Street, and had been pointed out as a gunman, a mine guard, and a trouble-hunter. King I knew nothing about, and said so.
“Well,” Lander Owen said drily, “when he was hangin’ around Prescott there were a lot of holdups in Black Canyon. He drifted up Nevada way and there were a couple up there. I don’t know anything, but it seems to me…”
It seemed to me, too. Heseltine was not teaming up with any other outlaws because he wanted company, but because he had something in mind.
And what about the money? Was that all gone? I felt my stomach kind of turn over at the thought.
Now I knew what I was going to do. I was going to ride up Frying Pan way, and then I was going to cross over and find out the nearest stage route. And I was going to get me a job riding shotgun. If they wanted to hold up a stage, I would be there waiting for them.
I’d ride shotgun for free, if it had to be. When they came hunting I’d be sitting right up on top, ready for them.
Chapter 10
----
T HE MAN AT the stage station was named Rollins. He looked up at me from under a green eyeshade, then sat back in his swivel chair. He was a man of forty-odd, already a little gray around the temples, but he had a capable way about him.
His eyes were blue and steady, and he studied me a moment before he answered me. “You want to ride shotgun? What makes you think we need a shotgun guard?”
“Bob Heseltine and Kid Reese are headed this way. They’ve got Pit Burnett and Burns King with them.”
“Oh? Heseltine, is it? You wouldn’t be Shell Tucker, would you?”
“I would.” I was surprised. “How did you know that?”
“There’s been talk.” He leaned forward in his chair and shuffled the papers in front of him. He seemed to be considering my application for the job. “You realize, of course, that the
What was I going to build, I wondered. Anything at all? Or was I just going to find those two men and make them give up what was left of our money. I didn’t like to think of what I wasn’t doing, so I shook it off. I’d heard old men talk before, like pa.
But when I thought of him I remembered how right he had been about Reese and Sites, and how wrong I’d been. Well, that was one time. Now I knew better, and I was going to find those men. And I had several weeks before Con Judy got started with his kind of building.
Lander Owen went off now about his business and I still sat there in the sun, riding my mind down the possible trails those two might have gone. I wasn’t going to let up on them until I had them by the short hair.
It would have been easier, in some ways, if I’d never met Con Judy. He was my friend, maybe the first real friend I ever had, but he had opened doors for me that maybe he’d better left closed. He had introduced me to men who were doing something in the world, men who had the respect of their communities. All of them were building things to last; and me, I was just hunting two men who had taken our money and tried to kill me.
----
F IVE DAYS LATER, on a horse I bought from Lander Owen, I took the trail.
I didn’t aim to ride into Leadville, because I didn’t want Con Judy to talk me out of it, or anybody else. I was giving myself three weeks to find them, and if by that time I hadn’t, I would double back, take Con’s job, and stay on it until I earned some money.
Vashti was there to say good-bye, although she didn’t hold with my going. She said it, and then turned her back on me and walked away. I was looking after her, thinking I should say something I hadn’t said, when Lander stepped up close.
“Boy, Con is probably right, and Vash, too. Me, I lived with redskins too long. I figure you got it to do, so I’ll tell you this: When they pulled out they were headed for the Frying Pan country, and they’d teamed up with two more outlaws, Burns King and Pit Burnett.”
Burnett I’d seen a couple of times in Leadville. He had been a hanger-on around State Street, and had been pointed out as a gunman, a mine guard, and a trouble-hunter. King I knew nothing about, and said so.
“Well,” Lander Owen said drily, “when he was hangin’ around Prescott there were a lot of holdups in Black Canyon. He drifted up Nevada way and there were a couple up there. I don’t know anything, but it seems to me…”
It seemed to me, too. Heseltine was not teaming up with any other outlaws because he wanted company, but because he had something in mind.
And what about the money? Was that all gone? I felt my stomach kind of turn over at the thought.
Now I knew what I was going to do. I was going to ride up Frying Pan way, and then I was going to cross over and find out the nearest stage route. And I was going to get me a job riding shotgun. If they wanted to hold up a stage, I would be there waiting for them.
I’d ride shotgun for free, if it had to be. When they came hunting I’d be sitting right up on top, ready for them.
Chapter 10
----
T HE MAN AT the stage station was named Rollins. He looked up at me from under a green eyeshade, then sat back in his swivel chair. He was a man of forty-odd, already a little gray around the temples, but he had a capable way about him.
His eyes were blue and steady, and he studied me a moment before he answered me. “You want to ride shotgun? What makes you think we need a shotgun guard?”
“Bob Heseltine and Kid Reese are headed this way. They’ve got Pit Burnett and Burns King with them.”
“Oh? Heseltine, is it? You wouldn’t be Shell Tucker, would you?”
“I would.” I was surprised. “How did you know that?”
“There’s been talk.” He leaned forward in his chair and shuffled the papers in front of him. He seemed to be considering my application for the job. “You realize, of course, that the
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