Avenger by William W. Johnstone

Author:William W. Johnstone [Johnstone, William W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2015-03-22T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Frank didn’t drop the gun as he had been instructed, but he kept it down at his side as the policemen approached him. He didn’t know how trigger-happy they might be, and he didn’t want to give them any excuse to start blazing away at him.

“Take it easy, boys,” he said, keeping his voice steady and calm. “Why am I under arrest?”

“For shooting that man,” the other officer said, inclining his head toward the wounded wrangler.

A frown creased Frank’s forehead. “I didn’t shoot him. In fact, I reckon the bullet that hit him was intended for me. It didn’t miss my ear by more than an inch or two.”

The older woman from the hotel came bustling up. “Mr. Morgan is telling the truth,” she said. “There were at least a dozen witnesses when that poor man was shot, and Mr. Morgan didn’t even have a gun at the time.”

“Well, he’s sure armed now,” one of the policemen said, “and he’s got a reputation as a gunfighter and killer. We’re gonna have to take him in for questioning.”

Frank glanced toward the Avalon Hotel, wondering whether Hannah was still up in Room 214. It didn’t appear likely that he would be finding out any time soon.

His gunbelt was still lying on the ground. He picked it up, slipped the Colt into the holster, and coiled the belt around it. As he handed it over to one of the officers, he said, “You fellas are making a mistake. Somebody tried to bushwhack me and got that other hombre instead. That’s what happened, simple as that.”

Holloway surprised him a little by speaking up. “Morgan’s right. He didn’t have anything to do with shooting Amos. I saw that with my own eyes.”

The policemen looked stubborn. They wanted to take in the famous Drifter. But it was obvious they didn’t have any real reason to arrest him.

“You’re not supposed to be wearing a gun,” the one holding the coiled shell belt said. Frank wondered if they were going to try to make that charge stick against him, but then the officer held out the gunbelt and continued reluctantly. “Here. Don’t let us catch you with it again.”

Frank nodded and said, “Sure.” He tucked the holstered gun under his arm—where it would still be within easy reach if he needed it.

The doctor had stopped the bleeding and put a crude bandage on the wounded man’s shoulder. He stood up and said to the policemen, “I need to get this man to the hospital. One of you summon an ambulance wagon.”

“Sure, Doc. Is he gonna be all right?”

“I think I can repair most of the damage,” the medico replied. “He may not ever be able to use that arm like he did before, though.”

Holloway heard that and said bitterly, “Damn it. Amos can’t work as a wrangler with a bum arm.”

“I’ll bet Bill Cody will find another job for him,” Frank said.

Holloway nodded. “Yeah, the colonel takes good care of the folks who work for him.” He glared at Frank.

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