Free A Colt for the Kid by John Saunders

unusual about his movements. A few minutes later when Carlen was restored to his usual self, Hennesey walked towards his own office. In the light of the lamp he dragged the crumpled envelope from his pocket, read the address then hesitated before slitting the envelope open. Finally, he decided that his action was justified under the circumstances and he rapidly tore the envelope open and read the contents.
    He spent the next few moments swearing under his breath. There could be no doubt who had written the note. Bohun’s big, sprawling hand was easily recognisable. The thing was, what action should he take? Go directly to the judge and confront him with this piece of treachery. Or just keep quiet about it and look out for further moves from Bohun? He decided to keep the information to himself, not even tell it to Carter or Belle. For one thing, Belle would certainly have the matter in the open and that would be very little help. Still, it was going to be hell acting naturally when he met the judge. Knowing the man was weak and shifty was one thing but being aware that he would betray his friends was another.
    Hennesey put the letter in a drawer of his desk, snuffed out the light and left the office. It was close to midnight and the least drunken of Donovan’s riders were already leaving the town. The rest would have to be persuaded by his ownefforts, seeing that neither Donovan or Stone were on hand. The idea caused him to grin a little. It did not matter to him if none of Donovan’s riders got back to their work by morning, but he wanted the town clear as soon as possible so that he could make his way back to the Stevens’ place. Luke Carter would be glad to see his saloon empty, too. Luke was taking the sixty-mile ride to Leastown the moment the Silver Dollar could close its doors.

CHAPTER SIX
    In the late afternoon of the following day, Luke Carter led four other riders into the Stevens’ place. No hard rider, Luke drooped in his saddle and was so stiff and sore he could barely heave himself out of the saddle. The four who had ridden in with him seemed scarcely affected by the sixty mile ride. They were Burt Sanders, tall and brown haired, Sean and Mike Regan, twin brothers, red of hair and with startlingly blue eyes, and Abe Thomas, fortyish and sun dried to the toughness of good leather. Thomas had raised cattle in a small way until Donovan had forced him off the ranges, whilst the two Regans and Sanders were sons of homesteading families that had been ruthlessly driven from their lands by MD riders. All four had a burning desire to pull Donovan’s empire down.
    Sam and Lucy Stevens came out on to the veranda as the thud of hoofs reached them. There were greetings, expressions of surprise at the way the Regan brothers and Sanders had grown from youths into tough young men in the seven or eight years since the parties had last met and on the part of the new arrivals a good deal of remarking on the fact that Lucy had grown from a pigtailed child into a young woman of considerable attraction. After that there was the business of seeing to the weary horses, then a deal of sluicingaway the riders’ own dust and grime. A substantial meal followed with hardly a word spoken about the business in hand. Then with tobacco smoke curling up to the rafters of the big living-room Sam said:
    ‘Lucy and I want to thank you fellows for coming. We hadn’t figured on asking help to fight Donovan, that was Luke’s idea.’
    ‘Think nothing of it,’ Thomas cut in. ‘We should have banded together years back. If we’d done that us fellers might have still been on this part of the land. Luke’s been telling us about Donovan’s latest moves and the only thing we want to do is put an end to them, fast.’
    ‘Yes, what’s the plan?’ Sanders asked.
    Sam gave a thin smile. ‘I’m afraid there isn’t much of a plan. Hennesey was out here this morning and the best we could think of was to post a guard, say two men, about a