Free MacCallister: The Eagles Legacy by William W. Johnstone, J. A. Johnstone Page A

must deliver this letter to Mr. McGregor.”
    Because Somerled was reading the letter, he made no response to Henry, who left after carefully putting the money in the inside pocket of his jacket.
    “Anything interesting, Sheriff?” Malcolm asked.
    “How would you like to go to America?” Somerled asked.
    “I’ve always wanted to visit America,” Malcolm replied.
    “I’ll be sending you, along with Roderick and Alexander. And I’ll be putting you in charge, knowing how hotheaded and irresponsible my two boys are.”
    “You’ll be tellin’ them I’m in charge, will you not, Sheriff? For without hearing from you, I think they may not listen.”
    “I will tell them and they will listen,” Sheriff Somerled said.
    “Sheriff, ye have no jurisdiction in America. When we find MacCallister, how do you want me to deal with him?”
    “Deal with him? There will be no dealing with him,” Sheriff Somerled said. “I’ll be for wanting you to kill him.”
    Malcolm smiled. “It was hoping, I was, that you would say that. Gillis and Nevin were good friends of mine. I will take pleasure in avenging them.”
    “’Tis for them you be seeking vengeance, and ’tis for their brother that Roderick and Alexander will be doing the same. Don’t let me down, Malcolm. I want Duff Tavish MacCallister killed, and when he dies, there will be no more MacCallisters in Scotland. The two hundred and more years our clans have been at war will come to an end.”
    Aboard the Cunard steamship Etruria
     
    The young lady’s name was Miriam Phelps, and she was from one of New York’s wealthiest and most fashionable families. This was not her first transatlantic voyage, though it was the first one she had made alone, and she was now coming back from a grand tour of Europe.
    Roderick and Alexander Somerled met her in the first-class dining room, and she had flirted outrageously with both of them. Malcolm had watched with interest how she was playing the brothers against each other. He knew that it was all a game to her, a means of diversion for a very wealthy young woman at whose feet the whole world lay.
    “Alexander, Roderick, Roderick, Alexander,” she said in a singsong voice. “I swear, you are both so handsome and so fascinating, that I don’t know which of you I want to give the most attention. What is a girl to do?” She smiled flirtatiously, then turned and walked away from them, glancing once back over her shoulder.
    They had been at sea for five days when, early in the morning as Malcolm was asleep in his stateroom, he felt someone’s hand on his shoulder.
    “What?” he said with a start as he jerked awake.
    “Malcolm.”
    Malcolm saw Alexander sitting on the side of his bed, his eyes gleaming wildly and a look of panic on his face.
    “Wake up, Malcolm. Wake up,” Alexander was saying.
    “I am awake,” he said. “What is it? What is going on?”
    “We need some help.”
    “Who needs help?”
    “I do. So does Roderick.”
    “What do you mean you need help? You need help with what?”
    “Maybe you had better come to our stateroom,” Alexander said, referring to the cabin that he and his brother were sharing.
    “What time is it?”
    “It’s about three o’clock.”
    “In the morning?”
    “Aye.”
    “What are you doing, waking me at this hour?”
    “Please, Malcolm, get dressed and come with me,” Alexander said. “We need your help.”
    “Yes, you keep saying that.”
    Although Malcolm dressed quickly, Alexander kept urging him to hurry. Finally, when he was fully dressed, he left his stateroom and followed Alexander down the corridor, feeling, not only the gentle roll of the ship, but also feeling and hearing the vibration of the steam engine.
    “Alexander, what . . .”
    “Shhh,” Alexander hissed, laying his finger across his lips.
    When they reached the stateroom shared by Alexander and Roderick, Alexander tapped, lightly, on the door.
    “Who is it?” a muffled voice called from the other side of