[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
drive.
I felt legs across my back and shoulders, then the weight slid off me and
over
the rail into the water.
He'd been wet before he fell, which meant that he probably swam over, crawled
up
on the deck, and came at me from behind with a knife or a club. He'd jumped
at
me, and when I dropped he just carried right on over, helped a mite by my
boost.
He went down a long way because we were a far piece above the water, and when
he
came up I called down, "How's the water there, son?"
He made reply, but it sounded almighty unpleasant, so I just turned about and
went to our cabin. Orrin was asleep, and so was the Tinker.
I shucked my coat and boots, took my gun close to hand, and peeled to my
Page 62
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
long-Johns. I stretched out on the bunk and looked up into the blackness. It
was
going to be all right. I was headed back for the mountains ...
When the little steamer tied up at Webber's Falls, we were the first ones
down
the gangplank. "They're in town," I told Orrin and the Tinker. "Walk easy and
keep your eyes open. You boys get us some grub and supplies at the store.
I'll
wait for Judas and then try to find some horses."
When Judas came off the boat I told him to meet us at the store later and to
watch himself. There was a livery stable and a corral down the street.
Strolling
along, I stopped and leaned on the rails. A man with a straw hat and bib
overalls came over to me. "Nice stock," he commented.
There were a dozen horses in the corral; all but two would be useless to us.
Two
were farm animals, the rest Indian ponies. The other horses, the two I
fancied
above the rest, were still not what I wanted.
"Not for me," I shook my head. "Isn't there anything better around?"
"Well," he said, "there's a man with a ranch the other side of town. His name
is
Halloran, Doc Halloran. He buys cattle, sells them, buys horses, races them.
He's got fine stock but he ain't in the trading business."
He hired me a rig and I stopped by the store. When I explained what I was
about,
the Tinker said, "Doc Halloran, you say? I'll go along."
Orrin was still buying, so we drove off.
It was an interesting place. A log house of five or six rooms, a handsome big
barn, corrals, a well, some hay meadows, and a green lawn in front of the
house.
A tall, lean man came from the house as we drove up. A couple of Indian
cowhands
were at the corral. I started to speak, but the tall man was looking past me
at
Page 63
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
the Tinker. A broad smile broke over his face. "Tinker! Well, I'll be forever
damned!"
"I hope not, Doc. Good to see you. This is Tell Sackett."
"Where's Lando? Is he still fighting?" He turned to me. "Are you kin to
Lando?
He won me more money than I ever won anywhere else. Fight? That's the
fightin'est man who ever walked."
"He's my cousin," I said. "We Sacketts run to boys and fighting."
"Come in! Come in! By the lord harry, this is great! Tinker, I've often
wondered
what became of you. Figured you must have gone back to pack-peddling in the
mountains. What brings you to the Falls?"
"Headed west," I said, "and we heard you had some horses that weren't for
sale.
We also heard they were the best stock anywhere around."
"How many d'you need?"
"Three packhorses, four head of riding stock, and we want stayers."
"I've got what you need. A few years back, just after I moved up here from
Oakville where I met Lando an' the Tinker, I swapped for an appaloosa
stallion.
A half-breed Injun from up Idaho way rode him into town. On the dodge, I
reckon.
"Well, I bred that appaloosa to some Morgan mares I had here, and wait until
you
see 'em!" He stopped suddenly, looking from one to the other. "You boys ain't
runnin' from something, are you?"
"No. Kind of scouting my father's trail," I explained. "Is there anybody
around
who was here twenty years ago? Somebody who might have outfitted another
party
with horses?"
"More than likely they outfitted at Fort Gibson, right up the line. Those
days
nobody stopped here very much. This place was started by a part-blood Creek
who
Page 64
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
came in here a good many years back. He took over the saltworks up the
stream.
Did right well. But anybody outfitting for the western ride would go to Fort
Gibson."
We finished our coffee and got up. "Let's see those horses," I suggested.
"We've
got to get back to town. Orrin will be waiting."
There were three of them, sixteen hands, beautifully built, and in fine
shape.
One was a gray with a splash of white with black spots on the right shoulder,
and a few spots freckled over the hips, black amidst the gray. The other
horses
were both black with splashes of white on the hips and the usual spots of the
appaloosa.
"We'll take them. How about packhorses?" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl rafalstec.xlx.pl
drive.
I felt legs across my back and shoulders, then the weight slid off me and
over
the rail into the water.
He'd been wet before he fell, which meant that he probably swam over, crawled
up
on the deck, and came at me from behind with a knife or a club. He'd jumped
at
me, and when I dropped he just carried right on over, helped a mite by my
boost.
He went down a long way because we were a far piece above the water, and when
he
came up I called down, "How's the water there, son?"
He made reply, but it sounded almighty unpleasant, so I just turned about and
went to our cabin. Orrin was asleep, and so was the Tinker.
I shucked my coat and boots, took my gun close to hand, and peeled to my
Page 62
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
long-Johns. I stretched out on the bunk and looked up into the blackness. It
was
going to be all right. I was headed back for the mountains ...
When the little steamer tied up at Webber's Falls, we were the first ones
down
the gangplank. "They're in town," I told Orrin and the Tinker. "Walk easy and
keep your eyes open. You boys get us some grub and supplies at the store.
I'll
wait for Judas and then try to find some horses."
When Judas came off the boat I told him to meet us at the store later and to
watch himself. There was a livery stable and a corral down the street.
Strolling
along, I stopped and leaned on the rails. A man with a straw hat and bib
overalls came over to me. "Nice stock," he commented.
There were a dozen horses in the corral; all but two would be useless to us.
Two
were farm animals, the rest Indian ponies. The other horses, the two I
fancied
above the rest, were still not what I wanted.
"Not for me," I shook my head. "Isn't there anything better around?"
"Well," he said, "there's a man with a ranch the other side of town. His name
is
Halloran, Doc Halloran. He buys cattle, sells them, buys horses, races them.
He's got fine stock but he ain't in the trading business."
He hired me a rig and I stopped by the store. When I explained what I was
about,
the Tinker said, "Doc Halloran, you say? I'll go along."
Orrin was still buying, so we drove off.
It was an interesting place. A log house of five or six rooms, a handsome big
barn, corrals, a well, some hay meadows, and a green lawn in front of the
house.
A tall, lean man came from the house as we drove up. A couple of Indian
cowhands
were at the corral. I started to speak, but the tall man was looking past me
at
Page 63
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
the Tinker. A broad smile broke over his face. "Tinker! Well, I'll be forever
damned!"
"I hope not, Doc. Good to see you. This is Tell Sackett."
"Where's Lando? Is he still fighting?" He turned to me. "Are you kin to
Lando?
He won me more money than I ever won anywhere else. Fight? That's the
fightin'est man who ever walked."
"He's my cousin," I said. "We Sacketts run to boys and fighting."
"Come in! Come in! By the lord harry, this is great! Tinker, I've often
wondered
what became of you. Figured you must have gone back to pack-peddling in the
mountains. What brings you to the Falls?"
"Headed west," I said, "and we heard you had some horses that weren't for
sale.
We also heard they were the best stock anywhere around."
"How many d'you need?"
"Three packhorses, four head of riding stock, and we want stayers."
"I've got what you need. A few years back, just after I moved up here from
Oakville where I met Lando an' the Tinker, I swapped for an appaloosa
stallion.
A half-breed Injun from up Idaho way rode him into town. On the dodge, I
reckon.
"Well, I bred that appaloosa to some Morgan mares I had here, and wait until
you
see 'em!" He stopped suddenly, looking from one to the other. "You boys ain't
runnin' from something, are you?"
"No. Kind of scouting my father's trail," I explained. "Is there anybody
around
who was here twenty years ago? Somebody who might have outfitted another
party
with horses?"
"More than likely they outfitted at Fort Gibson, right up the line. Those
days
nobody stopped here very much. This place was started by a part-blood Creek
who
Page 64
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
came in here a good many years back. He took over the saltworks up the
stream.
Did right well. But anybody outfitting for the western ride would go to Fort
Gibson."
We finished our coffee and got up. "Let's see those horses," I suggested.
"We've
got to get back to town. Orrin will be waiting."
There were three of them, sixteen hands, beautifully built, and in fine
shape.
One was a gray with a splash of white with black spots on the right shoulder,
and a few spots freckled over the hips, black amidst the gray. The other
horses
were both black with splashes of white on the hips and the usual spots of the
appaloosa.
"We'll take them. How about packhorses?" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]