Slocum #395 : Slocum and the Trail to Yellowstone (9781101553640) by Jake Logan

away. After shaking his head at her offer of his pants, he eased his way through the willows. He could see a pair of men standing in front of Houston’s tent, their backs to him.
    â€œHands in the air or die,” Slocum shouted.
    â€œWhat the hell—?” The older one cocked his hammer, but when he jerked around, Slocum shot him in the chest and he spilled over onto his back. His loaded gun went off in the air, and the second one raised the muzzle of his pistol—obviously shaken by the surprise attack of a naked man—and then a shotgun blast from the side cut him down.
    Houston rushed outside, the shotgun butt held tight to his shoulder. “Hey, lad, are you all right?”
    Slocum chuckled. “Thanks, they were disturbing my nap.”
    â€œI’ll check on them if you’d like to dress for the occasion?”
    â€œHandle it. They ain’t going anywhere. You know them?”
    â€œNo, I have never seen them before. Why did they attack us?”
    â€œThey may be hired killers looking for me.”
    â€œI must say that business is growing lax if they are. Why, those two couldn’t have snuck up on a deaf duck.”
    â€œCheck them out,” Slocum said and went back for his clothing.
    In the bright sunlight, Wilma rushed up whispering, “Was that Houston talking?”
    Her skirt was on, and she was rapidly tucking her breasts out of sight and buttoning up the shirt. “What will he think? I mean of us being undressed?”
    â€œHe’ll probably think we were having sex.” Slocum buttoned his shirt, then took his pants from her.
    â€œI mean—oh, who in the hell cares, right?”
    â€œFor my part, we foiled those two men from killing us. That’s all that matters. Act normal. Like we stop killers every day like this.”
    She laughed and then covered her mouth. With a no head-shake for his answer, she looked in disbelief at him. When his gun was strapped on, he went over and kissed her, then hugged her shoulder. “We do this all the time.”
    She elbowed him in the ribs. “Sex, maybe, but not shooting people when you’re bare-ass naked.”
    â€œLet’s go see what we have.”
    â€œFine.” She looked to the setting sun for help.
    Somberly, he went to where Houston was squatting beside the second gunman. The man nodded, then filled him in. “Says he’s Newton. Raddison is the dead man. Says they’re horse traders. Wanted to buy our good horses.”
    Slocum dropped to his knee and took the wounded man’s vest in both hands to half raise him off the ground. “You’re lying. You came here to kill me. Who hired you?”
    â€œAll right. All right. My name’s Coleman.”
    â€œWho hired you?”
    â€œJesse did.”
    â€œWho’s he?”
    â€œRuns a bar in Deadwood.” The man shook his head. “I didn’t know him. Raddison did. He made the deal.”
    â€œFor how much?”
    â€œGave us a three hundred to find and kill you.”
    â€œHe must have been rich. How did you find me?”
    â€œWe paid for all the beer that these two cowboys could drink. Texas ones—we met ’em in a saloon on the road to Cheyenne. Said you was shacking up with some woman up here.”
    â€œHow did you find us here?”
    â€œSome guy in town said an English guy, some cowboy, and a woman were down here camping on the crick—” He coughed up some blood and then passed out, drowning in his own blood.
    â€œAye, who would hire killers to find the likes of you?”
    â€œA rich old man whose son came back drunk to a card game and accused me of cheating.”
    â€œMoney buys killers, doesn’t it? Did you meet that pair that they got drunk?”
    Slocum made a grim nod. “Once. Their names are Smith and Ward. Those two came by when Wilma was gone to get supplies. They told me that they were looking for Sundance to join his gang. I believe