Free Ralph Compton Sixguns and Double Eagles by RALPH COMPTON

emergency situation there, just as they did in New Orleans.”
    â€œMaybe it’s better if they do,” said Corbin. “It might take something like that to shake up our outfit and make ‘em see what you and me already know.”
    â€œWe’re at some disadvantage here in St. Louis,” Stringfield said. “Hanks has been the segundo there in New Orleans from the start, and has authority we lack.”
    â€œYeah,” said Corbin, “we come north after the Sandlin gang folded, and it was neck meat or nothin‘. We had to take any position we could get. I can’t believe Hanks let them gun-toters escape New Orleans without a scratch, or that he ain’t sendin’ somebody after ’em. He ain’t tellin’ us a damn thing he don’t have to.”
    â€œI suspect you’re right.” Stringfield said, “and he may find himself in trouble because he didn’t nail that pair in New Orleans. Especially if they reach Carson City and force the termination of our operation there.”
    Â 
    Wes and El Lobo locked the door of their tiny cabin, and removing their hats, boots, and gunbelts, stretched out on their bunks. Empty lay on the floor between them, shifting uneasily as the steamboat got under way.
    â€œIf we can rest here until suppertime, we’ll be able to spend some of the evening hours on deck,” Wes said. “At least, there’s nobody gunning for us, unless they slipped aboard without us seeing them. We’ll have a chance to look around during supper.”
    â€œSí,” said El Lobo. “They have plan for us. We just not know what that plan be.”
    â€œThere’s always the layover in Kansas City, until we can take the train for Boulder,” Wes said, “and if they miss us there, it’s a long train ride. If all else fails, they can tear up some track and stop the train.”
    â€œThe Dragon not wait for Kansas City, not wait for train,” said El Lobo.
    â€œI reckon you’re seein’ somethin’ I missed,” Wes said. “Why are you so sure?”
    â€œNot know,” said the Indian. “Per‘ap nothing. Per’ap malo.”
    Come suppertime, Wes first saw that Empty was fed in the kitchen. Then he and El Lobo took their places at one of the many tables. They were early, and over first cups of coffee watched the other passengers enter. The waiters had already begun taking orders when the two women entered the dining hall. With their dark hair, dark eyes, and fancy dress, they were younger and more attractive than they had appeared to be as they had arrived at the landing. They seemed to be seeking a certain table, and men smiled invitingly, but they didn’t pause until they were near where Wes and El Lobo sat.
    â€œWe hate to eat alone,” said the taller of the two. “May we sit with you?”
    El Lobo said nothing. Empty got up, growling, and moved two tables away. There he stood, looking with suspicion upon the two women. Wes finally spoke.
    â€œYou’re welcome to sit here, if you like.”
    The two pulled out chairs and sat down, the one who had spoken sitting across from Wes, while the other faced El Lobo.
    â€œI’m Louise,” said the one who had spoken first. “My friends call me Lou.”
    â€œI’m Monique,” her companion said, “and my friends call me Mona.”
    There was no help for it, and Wes spoke.
    â€œI’m Wes, and this is El Lobo. We have no friends.”
    â€œWhat an unusual name,” said Monique, looking at El Lobo. “Is that your first or last name?”
    El Lobo looked at her as though she didn’t exist.
    â€œIt’s his first and last name,” Wes said. “He can’t speak English.”
    â€œHow quaint,” said Monique. “So you speak for him.”
    â€œWhen I have to,” Wes said. “He generally just shoots people who annoy him.”
    â€œI’m