Bounty Hunter by George G. Gilman

Author:George G. Gilman
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: General Fiction, Genre Fiction, Westerns, Action & Adventure, Literature & Fiction
Publisher: Lobo Publications
Published: 2012-10-03T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

STEELE took a bath with the derringer under-and-over resting atop his clothes piled at the side of the tub. Then he shaved and dressed as far as his underwear, pants and shirt. He placed the chair under the doorknob inside his room and then pushed the hard, narrow bed against the wall with the window in it. But back from the window, in a corner. When he was stretched out on the bed he could not see out of the window and therefore there was no clear shot at him from outside. He slept with the derringer in his left hand and his right hand curled around the rifle. For the first time in over a month the sleep was completely natural, thrust upon him by genuine fatigue instead of the brain dulling effect of alcohol.

Hunger woke him and when he snapped open his eyes the room was only slightly less dark than the blanket of blackness that had existed behind his closed lids. Night had crept in from the surrounding mountains to drape the basin in which Endsville nestled. It was a night without moon or stars for heavy cloud cover marked the heavens. Steele raised himself from the bed and went to the window. He looked down at the junction and then along the streets which formed it. The town was doing little to combat the darkness. The saloon, law office, hotel and restaurant spilled yellow wedges from windows. And farther out towards the outskirts of town, a few houses showed lights. Up at the ranch a few squares of yellow were painted on the black background of the spread. But that was all. Endsville was an early-to-bed town.

A few eddies of dust rose from the surface of the street. The wind looked gentle, but cold. He cracked open the window to test the weather and discovered it was as chill as it looked as a draught knifed into the room. He put on his boots, scarf, coat and hat. Then he removed the chair from the door and left the room, carrying the rifle ready. In the lobby, the desk clerk looked up from reading a newspaper as he heard Steele’s tread on the stairway. Even in the lamplight he had the squint. A nervous licking of his lips added further involuntary animation to his pasty face as Steele approached him.

“You have an hotel safe big enough to store this?” Steele asked, placing the Colt Hartford carefully on the desk.

The clerk shook his head. “No, sir. But I’ll be here on duty all night. I’ll take care of it for you.”

“Grateful,” Steele told him, swinging around to head for the door.

It was closed against the weather. The biting wind snapped around Steele as he stepped outside. He looked along North Street, then up and down East and West. He was alone out in the open. There were not even any horses hitched to the rails positioned at intervals along the sidewalk edges. The wind sighed between the buildings and business signs creaked as they swung to and fro.

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