Ballard and McCall 6 by Neil Hunter

Author:Neil Hunter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: elmore leonard, gunfighters, colt 45, action heroes, george g gilman, piccadilly publishing, mike linaker, western fictioneers, wild west fiction, best western ebooks
Publisher: Piccadilly

Chapter Seventeen

IRA STRANG’S RANCH lay a couple of hour’s ride from Jessup. The spread encompassing acreage that covered an impressive area. Good grazing land with plentiful grass, well-watered by creeks that dotted the territory. Bunches of cattle grazing contentedly, all bearing the IS brand. Ballard knew good cow country when he saw it and he was looking at it now.

Ballard took his time scouting out the area even before he reached the signed and fenced entry to the IS range. He had sighted a single building alone and at a fork in the trail that would eventually lead onto Strang’s land. He rode up to it, casting his eyes over the timber and adobe structure. The flat sod roof and glassless windows. A weathered sign tacked over the batwing doors told him it was Rooker’s Post and Hostelry. To one side was a pole corral holding a few loose horses and a scattering of barrels and crates littered the ground. A place that offered food and drink to passing travelers. Ballard tied his horse to the rail, noting the presence of three others. Each had the IS brand on them.

Ballard slipped off the hammer restraint on his handgun as he made for the door. It was simply a precaution. He was stepping into unknown territory and a man who failed to cover himself from unexpected situations had no one else to blame but himself.

The interior was cool after the day’s heat. Ballard’s quick scan told him it was a store cum bar. Apart from the man behind the counter there were just three others. Bellied up to the bar and dressed in range clothes. The IS men owning the horses outside.

‘Beer,’ Ballard said finding a clear spot at the bar.

He found the brew, while not ice cold, at least pleasant and dusted down his throat with a long pull. Out the corner of his eye he saw the three other men were looking his way.

‘Heading for Jessup?’ said the bartender.

‘Came from there.’

‘Traveling far?’

Ballard shook his head. ‘Lookin’ to stop off at the Strang spread.’

Ballard had expected a response and got it when the trio of men turned towards him. There was a palpable ripple of tension in the room.

‘If you’re looking for work there ain’t any.’

‘You do the hiring and firing, son?’

‘Just telling you to move your butt out of these parts. My name’s Bellman and I speak for Mr. Strang.’

‘If you ain’t Strang then we got no business. I just need to speak to him.’

Ballard turned his head slowly to look the speaker over. His first impression was of the hulking form of the man. The Texan was well over six feet tall but he had to look up to see Bellman’s face. Wide too, he saw. Big shoulders and long arms. His thick dark hair hung to his shoulders. A huge Walker Colt was thrust into a scarred leather holster on his left hip, butt canted forward at an angle.

Now that, Ballard decided, was a big piece to be carrying around.

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