Free Slip Gun by J.T. Edson Page B

come back, Smith had kept the
undertaker ’s
information to himself. In fact, the burly drummer had shown no
interest in the matter and was already in bed when the Texan
returned. After that, Smith had spent a somewhat disturbed and
restless night. His natural caution had dictated that he should
select a bed in a corner. Situated at the left side of the rear
wall, he found his choice to have disadvantages. Always a light
sleeper, he had been wakened every time one of the other travelers
went out back. During the night, all the room’s occupants, except
Capey, had gone by his bed at one time or another.
    At the time, Smith had regarded the
departures and returns as nothing more than a nuisance which
disturbed his rest. Looking down at the saddle, he could see that
one of the men who went out might have had a motive other than
relieving the call of nature.
    ‘ You’d
best go see if I can get a place on the stage, Dad,’ Smith said,
modifying his anger-filled voice as he realized that he could not
hold the hostlers responsible for his misfortune. ‘I’ll ride up in
it, with my horse tied to the back.’
    ‘ Sure
thing, Mr. Smith,’ Derham answered and scuttled away.
    Footsteps came to the
Texan ’s ears.
He heard a rapid exchange of talk, without being able to make out
more than the old timer’s cracked voice speaking hurriedly. A few
seconds later, Burbury and the McCobbs entered.
    ‘ I hear
you’ve had trouble, Mr. Smith,’ the sheriff greeted, a malicious
glint of satisfaction warring with the worry in his
eyes.
    There ’s some’s’d call it that,’ the Texan
agreed. ‘My girths’ve been cut.’
    ‘ Cut?’
repeated Billy, throwing a delighted grin at Angus.
    ‘ You
reckon it’s funny?’ Smith demanded quietly.
    ‘ Go
tend to the horses, you pair!’ McCobb snapped at his nephews, then
turned to the Texan. ‘Them three fellers who tried to kill you
must’ve done it afore they come looking for you.’
    ‘ Sure,’
Burbury agreed. ‘They did it so you couldn’t come after ’em after
they’d killed you, Wax.’
    ‘ Nobody
else’d have reason to do it,’ McCobb protested. ‘Er—What do you
intend to do now, Mr. Smith?’
    ‘ Take
the stage to Widow’s Creek, if I can get on it.’
    ‘ How
about your horse?’ Burbury asked.
    ‘ Figured on taking him tied to the stage,’ Smith
replied.
    ‘ They’ll be pushing hard, changing teams every ten miles or
so,’ Burbury warned. ‘Even without toting weight, your horse won’t
be in much of a condition time you get to the Creek.’
    ‘ I
don’t want to take time to come back for him when I’ve got my
saddle fixed,’ Smith pointed out.
    ‘ So
I’ll fetch him up for you,’ the drummer offered. ‘I’ll not be
travelling as fast as the coach, but I’ll be there around noon
tomorrow.’
    ‘ Sounds
like a smart notion to me,’ the sheriff remarked.
    ‘ And
me,’ Smith drawled. ‘I’ll be obliged if you’d do that,
Ric’
    There was nothing to be lost,
and plenty to gain, by letting Burbury take the horse. No matter
who, or what, the burly man might really be —and Smith felt certain he was no
ordinary drummer—the Texan was sure he could be trusted to deliver
the bayo-lobo to Widow’s Creek. With the stagecoach stopping only long
enough to change teams, Smith’s mount would have no time to rest and graze. So
Burbury offered the best solution.
    ‘ There’s a seat for you, Mr. Smith!’ Derham announced,
entering at a rapid walk. ‘Only you’ll have to get there straight
away.’
    ‘ I’ll
see to your horse, Wax,’ Burbury promised. ‘You get
going.’
    ‘ Lemme
tote your rig,’ the old timer offered.
    Allowing the old timer to carry
his saddle, Smith gathered up his bed roll and rifle. They left the
barn and went to where the stagecoach stood, its team hitched and
passengers on board, outside the station building. Smith passed up
his bed-roll, then took and handed his saddle to the shotgun
messenger. Waiting to make sure