Free Novel 1966 - Kilrone (v5.0) by Louis L’Amour Page B

certain glamor, but she had staying quality also, and it was a quality to look for in horses, in men, or in women.
    Trees hung over the creek, shadowing the gently rustling waters. The rain hissed softly as it fell. Otherwise, the night was still. There was no wagon, and the light they struck revealed two deep cuts in the far bank where it had gone up.
    Teale blew out the match. “Hog Town,” he said. “What’ll we do?”
    “Why, we’ll go to Hog Town, I guess,” Kilrone said.
    They rode on, and a few steps further along he asked, “What are they like in Hog Town? Gang-fighters?”
    “If need be. But no gang piles in when Iron Dave fights. He doesn’t need any help.”
    “Then if I tangle with Dave, you keep the others off, d’you hear?”
    “Hell, Sproul wouldn’t let them butt in. He likes doing it himself. He’ll kill you, amigo .”
    “Teale, one thing you should know. This will be real trouble. I know Dave Sproul and he knows me. He hates my guts. He’ll kill me if he can.”
    “You know him? An’ you’ll still go over there?” Teale rode along in silence for a few moments. “Hell,” he said presently, “I could win all the pay in camp, bettin’ on you. They’d offer ten to one.”
    “Don’t get me wrong, Teale. I’m not looking for a fight. We’ll have all the fight we can handle if Medicine Dog and his braves come down on us, as I believe they will. There’s plenty of time for Dave Sproul.”
    The one street in Hog Town, no more than a stretch of muddy road, was dark and still. Lights shone from the Empire, and they could hear the sound of a tinny music box as they drew nearer. A few yards from the end of the street Kilrone drew up. “You know this place, Teale. Where would he be likely to have that wagon, if he has it?”
    “Now, that’s a problem, Cap. It surely is. He’d be likely to have it near the corrals or at the barn, if he was honest about it, but I’d guess he’ll have it closer by. Maybe behind the Empire itself.”
    Teale pointed. “There’s a smaller stable there, where he keeps his own horses, and back of that there’s cottonwoods and some brush. I’d guess the wagon would be there.”
    “Well, let’s have a look.”
    Across the street from the Empire was a line of cribs. As the two rode toward the back of the Empire, a man came from one of the cribs and started across toward the saloon.
    When he glimpsed the two riders, he stopped dead-still, staring after them. Had he caught a brief glint of brass buttons? Scarcely, in this rain. Anybody out and about tonight would be wearing a slicker. Then why had he felt that one of those men was a soldier?
    When Poole went into the Empire he saw no sign of Iron Dave, so he walked to the bar for a drink.
    “The army been in tonight?” he asked.
    The bartender shook his head. “Ain’t likely. They’re all gone but a dozen or so, and those who are there will be kept on guard.”
    “Why, you’d be right about that,” Poole agreed. “Give me a shot of that Injun whiskey.”
    “Injun whiskey? We got the real stuff here. After all, you’re one of Dave’s boys, so why not?”
    “I asked for the Injun. I know what it’s made out of, but there’s somethin’ about it. After all, I’ve drunk it for years, and nothin’ else seems to promise. Maybe it’s the chawin’ tobacco they shave up in it…or that dash o’ strychnine.”
    He accepted the Indian whiskey, tossed off a glass, and refilled it. “Reason I asked about the sodgers, I thought I saw one out there just as I came in.”
    “You’re seein’ things.”
    Iron Dave came in then and walked down the bar. The big saloon was almost empty. The rain and rumors of Indian trouble had kept local people and ranchers away, and the soldiers were all gone.
    Sproul was a powerfully built man with thick shoulders, and huge arms and fists. He was dressed like a city man, but was in his shirt sleeves. A massive chain of gold nuggets was draped across the front of his