Benedict and Brazos 28 by E. Jefferson Clay

Author:E. Jefferson Clay
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: elmore leonard, gunslingers, the old west, george g gilman, piccadilly publishing, american frontier fiction, best western ebooks, western pulp fction
Publisher: Piccadilly

“You’re looking very tired, dear,” Mrs. Dusang remarked as her son rose to leave. “Are you quite sure you’re eating regularly?”

“I’m looking after myself, Ma,” Reade assured her, brushing her gray hair with his lips. “Maybe I look tired tonight because I had a big day, but I’ll be fine tomorrow. You look after yourself, do you hear?”

“I will, dear, and visit again soon, won’t you?”

Reade Dusang assured her that he would, then turned and went through the doorway onto the long gallery of the big house. The Senator followed, hands behind his back, a large cigar jutting from his teeth. Before them, the mine buildings lay bathed in brilliant moonshine. Lights burned at the mine mouth and at the office. There was a clink of metal as a guard completed his circuit and paused to rest his rifle against the ground.

Reade turned his hat in his hands. “Have you thought over what I asked you earlier, Pa?”

“Yes, and the answer is no. I refuse to increase the reward on those bandits by so much as one cent. To tell the truth, I’m surprised you should think that increasing the reward would make any difference at this late stage. It’s a point of view I most certainly don’t share.”

“Well, that’s nothing more than the same as before, is it?” Reade said tightly, heading for the hitchrack.

“Seems to me you’d be better occupied working day and night to bring those thieves to book and trying to earn the five thousand yourself than coming up here badgering me,” the Senator said tartly.

“I’ll do both yet,” came the terse reply as the younger man snapped his reins free and stepped up. “Funny, isn’t it, Pa? I’ve got to capture thieves in order to get a little financial reward from my own father, when only for my father’s tight-fistedness, I wouldn’t be in need of money.”

“Men earn whatever they get in this life, mister. That’s a lesson you’ve yet to learn. You never were much of a learner.”

“Could be the fault lay with the teacher,” Reade Dusang snapped and swung away, using his spurs to send his horse swiftly across the yard where the guard swung the gate wide.

“Damned impudence,” Senator Dusang muttered through the rolling cloud of dust.

Reade Dusang was angry as he mostly was following meetings with his father, but long before he clattered over the bridge that led into Federation Street, he had mastered his emotions. He looked his usual competent self as he walked into the law office to find Ruth Gordon waiting for him.

Dusang smiled and gave the girl a quick hug before hanging up his hat and walking around his desk. “Well, honey, what’s the special occasion? Or did you just suddenly feel the impulse to visit with your future husband?”

The girl’s eyes searched his face. Apart from poor, shy Jess Dover, the hotel clerk, no man had ever paid Larrabee’s schoolteacher any attention until she began keeping company with Reade Dusang several months ago. Ruth Gordon knew

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