Free Brutal Vengeance by J. A. Johnstone Page A

you’ll grow into it.”
    “Maybe,” Nick said with a doubtful shrug. “Did you grow into being what you are, Mr. Morgan?”
    “I guess you could say that,” The Kid replied.
    But it was more like fate had thrust his current life upon him, and a cruel fate, at that. He had come through the fires of tragedy and loss, and for a time he had found hope again.
    Then that hope had been snatched away from him, too, leaving him to drift aimlessly. As far as he could see into the future at this moment, that was going to be his life.
    Culhane called, “Ever ybody hold it!”
    The Kid reined in, as did the other members of the posse. Culhane sat up straight in his saddle, craned his neck, and peered into the distance.
    “Looks like a little ranch house yonder,” he announced. “We’ll noon there and water the horses. Before we do, I reckon somebody ought to ride up there and scout the place. Latch has tried to spring one trap on us already. We ain’t gonna waltz right into another one with our eyes closed.”
    The Ranger turned his head to look at The Kid. “How about you and young Burton there check it out, Morgan?”
    The Kid nodded, but Nick gulped. “Me? You want me to scout the place, Ranger Culhane?”
    “That’s what I just said, ain’t it?”
    “I don’t know if I can—”
    “It’ll be all right, Nick,” The Kid interrupted him. “We can handle it.”
    Nick took a deep breath. “Well, if you say so.” But he didn’t sound convinced that it was a good idea.
    “If it’s all clear, give us a high sign and we’ll come on in,” Culhane told The Kid as he and Nick rode past the Ranger.
    The Kid nodded. He and Nick left the posse behind and rode toward the ranch house, which sat on the plains about a mile ahead of them.
    After a minute, Nick said, “I don’t know if Ranger Culhane should’ve picked me for this job, but I’ve got to admit, it’s pretty exciting being on a scouting mission with the famous Kid Morgan.”
    “Get your Winchester out,” The Kid advised as he pulled his own rifle from the saddle boot, not commenting on Nick’s assessment of his fame. “You see that barn?”
    “Yeah. What about it?”
    “Keep your eyes on it,” The Kid told him. “Do you see anybody moving around?”
    “No. There are three or four horses in the corral, though.”
    “Watch the barn. If you see sunlight reflect off anything, you let me know right away, understand?”
    “Sure. Are you watching the house for the same thing, Mr. Morgan?”
    “That’s right,” The Kid said. “If there’s a chance of a trap and you see the sun glinting on something, it’s likely to be a gun. If it’s not, if it turns out to be something harmless, you haven’t lost anything by being careful.”
    “I’ll remember that.” Nick paused for a second, then added with youthful enthusiasm, “I wish I could ride with you all the time, Mr. Morgan!”
    “No,” The Kid said flatly. “You don’t.”
    In reality, he was probably only five or six years older than Nick Burton. But at this moment, he felt at least a hundred years older than the youngster.
    The Kid didn’t see any signs of trouble waiting for them at the ranch, but he didn’t see any signs of life, either, except the horses in the corral. That was a little troubling.
    People should have been moving around, going about the day’s work. If not for the horses, he would have begun to wonder if the ranch had been abandoned.
    When they were about two hundred yards from the buildings, The Kid signaled for Nick to stop. They reined in and dismounted, taking their rifles with them.
    “We’ll leave the horses here and go ahead on foot,” The Kid said. “Keep your eyes open. Don’t shoot at anything unless you’re absolutely sure what it is you’re shooting at.”
    The last thing they needed was for Nick to gun down some unsuspecting rancher, The Kid thought.
    Silently, he motioned Nick toward the barn as they approached. The Kid closed in on the house. The