The Devil's Badland: The Loner by J. A. Johnstone Page A

“There was nothing improper about it, Marshal.”
    “No, ma’am, I didn’t mean to suggest that there was.” Winston turned back to Conrad. “You didn’t get a good look at the varmints, either?”
    “I didn’t see any of them at all,” Conrad said. “All I saw were muzzle flashes.”
    “Well, I’m mighty sorry this happened. Val Verde’s a peaceful place most of the time. Of course, there was a ruckus here this afternoon, too…” The lawman scratched his beard-stubbled jaw and regarded Conrad intently. “Come to think of it, you were mixed up in that , too, weren’t you, Mr. Browning?”
    “Just defending myself, Marshal. I don’t recall seeing you there when Dave Whitfield and his pet gunman were trying to run roughshod over the MacTavishes.”
    Anger glittered in Winston’s eyes. Conrad knew he shouldn’t have made the comment. He had probably just made an enemy out of the lawman. He didn’t particularly care, though. He had learned to handle his own problems, without depending on the law. The past few months had taught him that much.
    “Are you plannin’ on stayin’ in Val Verde long?” Winston asked, his voice cool.
    “I don’t know. I suppose that depends on what else happens.”
    “Don’t take it inhospitable-like, but if trouble’s got a habit of followin’ you around, maybe it’d be best if you moved on elsewhere.”
    A tight smile tugged at Conrad’s mouth. That was exactly the sort of thing that lawmen usually said to his father, Frank Morgan, the notorious Drifter.
    He supposed the apple really didn’t fall too far from the tree.
    “Thank you for letting me know about Father Francisco, Marshal.”
    “Yeah, you’re welcome, I reckon.” Winston clapped his hat on. There was nothing left to say to Conrad, so he jerked his head at his deputy and said, “Come on, Pete.”
    When the two star packers were gone, Conrad sat down across from Pamela. She leaned forward and said, “I’ve caused you a great deal of trouble, haven’t I?”
    Conrad shook his head. “You just played a small part in it, and most of that was against your will. The person who really caused the trouble is your uncle.”
    “And it’s not over, Conrad. You don’t think Uncle Anthony will give up just because of what happened tonight, do you? He’ll still be coming after you.”
    “Good,” Conrad said. “Because I still have a score to settle with him, too.”

Chapter 10

    Conrad asked Pamela where she had been staying. “There’s another hotel here in town,” she explained. “Not nearly as nice as this one, but Uncle Anthony didn’t want to call any attention to us.” An embarrassed flush spread across her face. “He allowed the proprietor to think that he and I were…well, that I was his mistress.”
    “One more mark against him,” Conrad snapped. “You can’t go back there, of course. We’ll get you a room here. What about Hogan and the rest of the gunmen?”
    “They’re staying there, too.”
    “How many are there?”
    “All I ever saw were Hogan and two other men. I can’t say for certain there aren’t more somewhere else.”
    More gunmen could be camped somewhere outside of the settlement, Conrad supposed. But that didn’t really matter. If they weren’t with Anthony Tarleton all the time, he probably didn’t need to worry about them.
    Pamela reached across the table and clasped his hand. It was an unself-conscious gesture, totally spontaneous. “Conrad, what are you going to do?”
    “First of all, I’ll make sure that you’re safe, that you don’t have to take part in any more of your uncle’s sick, twisted games. Then I’m going after him.”
    Pamela began shaking her head before Conrad even finished his answer. “You can’t do that. They’ll kill you. You should let the law handle it.”
    “You mean Marshal Winston and his deputy?” Conrad laughed. “You saw them, Pamela. They might be able to handle some drunken cowboys blowing off steam on a Saturday