Free Slocum Giant 2013 : Slocum and the Silver City Harlot (9781101601860) by Jake Logan

under his weight. From his expression, a load of worry was added to that weight.
    â€œI got the body over to Doc Fuller. Couldn’t find the town undertaker. He’s probably out on a bender. Never seen a man drink like Rafe Olney. Suppose it keeps him from laughin’ durin’ the funerals. Looks like it was his dog what died, but I know he thinks all the dyin’ is funny and makin’ him rich.”
    â€œBurying that body going to make Rafe Olney rich?”
    â€œCould be, could be,” Whitehill said.
    The sheriff reached for his six-gun when the door creaked open an inch, then crashed back against the wall. Filling the doorway was a man about as broad as he was tall.
    â€œYou shouldn’t have waited up for me, Sheriff,” the man said, coming in.
    Whitehill relaxed.
    â€œDidn’t know when you was fixin’ on doin’ your duty, Deputy.”
    â€œI had a squabble to deal with east of town. Two gents decided the same cow belonged to each of them.”
    â€œSo you shot and ate it yourself,” Slocum piped up.
    The deputy took a couple steps toward the cell, his hand going to his six-shooter.
    â€œWho’s that?”
    â€œA fellow what needs to answer some questions,” said Whitehill.
    â€œDon’t expect the truth out of that lyin’ son of a bitch’s mouth,” the deputy said.
    â€œYou’ll never admit I saved your hide, will you, Tucker?” Slocum stood and leaned against the bars.
    â€œWhatever he’s in for, Harvey, I’ll stand bail for him,” the deputy said. “I owe him that and a bit more. Might even owe him a drink, ’less he’s in for rowdiness and public drunkenness.”
    â€œThat’s not a crime,” Whitehill said. “How do you know him, Dan?”
    Dangerous Dan Tucker walked over and stuck his face within an inch of Slocum’s.
    â€œI had some trouble up in Durango. You know my boast how I can whip an entire room of drunk cowboys? I was doin’ a damned good job of it but—”
    â€œBut he didn’t know there was a muleskinner in the room,” Slocum finished.
    â€œDamned ’skinner woulda kilt me dead if Slocum hadn’t stopped him.” Tucker spat. “I took that man’s own knife and used it on him. The rest of them boys quieted down right away, but I’d’a had a knife ’tween my ribs if Slocum hadn’t stopped him for me.”
    â€œYou think Slocum could kill a man?”
    â€œKnow he could. Saw him do it not a minute later.”
    â€œSaved your hide a second time that night. The muleskinner had a partner with a shotgun.”
    â€œSmall world,” Whitehill said. He ran his fingers around the metal ring holding the cell keys. “All right, Slocum. One question. Did you kill Texas Jack Bedrich?”
    Slocum looked from Tucker to the sheriff.
    â€œI don’t know anyone named Bedrich. Was that the muleskinner’s partner?”
    â€œMuleskinners don’t have names,” Tucker said. “Just poor bathin’ habits.” He sniffed. “Smells like you’re one of ’em now.”
    â€œSo you don’t know Jack Bedrich?” Sheriff Whitehill came over.
    â€œ
I
don’t know Bedrich,” Tucker said. “How’s Slocum supposed to? You just got to town, right, Slocum?”
    Whitehill unlocked the cell door.
    â€œDon’t make me regret this, either of you.”
    â€œHell, Sheriff, I’m already regretting it!” Tucker clasped Slocum hard, pushed him away, and shook hands.
    â€œSo am I,” grumbled Whitehill. He threw the ring of keys to the desk and sat. “You really don’t know Bedrich?”
    â€œNever heard of him in all my born days,” Slocum said.
    â€œYet you brought in his most recent partner, more dead than alive. If I hadn’t seen proof that Bedrich was in that block of ice with my own eyes, I’d figure you killed Texas Jack and