Dancer by OTIS MORPHEW

Author:OTIS MORPHEW [MORPHEW, OTIS]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781490746111
Publisher: Trafford Publishing
Published: 2014-09-11T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Yancy McGuire opened his eyes and sat up on the settee then yawning, looked around him at the furnishings before getting to his feet. He could hear the faint noise from the usually crowded saloon two floors down and thinking that before now, it had always made him smile, because it was making him money. But tonight even the off-key piano was playing on his nerves.

He managed a smile then as he reached a thin cigar from his vest and lit it before looking at his watch. ‘Nine thirty’, he thought,…and he knew that Allan’s four men would already be downstairs by now. Putting away the watch, he sighed as he stared at the block of wood across the room,…and the visible hilt of the dagger gave his confidence the added boost he needed to smile broadly. He was actually looking forward to meeting Mister Mabry, he decided, but then remembered that Allan wanted the man alive,…and although he had never disobeyed one of his best friend’s orders, he was sure he might disobey this one! He wanted Mabry dead,…and he would kill him the same way he killed his son,…with his knife!

Still grinning, he went to his desk and poured himself a whiskey and as he drank it, was thinking that Mabry would probably not show himself before midnight,…and maybe not until the wee hours of the morning. But he would be waiting, of that he was certain! Allan would be mad when he killed him, he knew, but once things were back to normal again he would get over it!…Besides, defending one’s self in his own establishment did not constitute a Federal Crime!…It would be business as usual.”

He poured more liquor in his glass and walked across to the large window overlooking the saloon’s much larger floor and moved the heavy drape aside. Almost every table was occupied, and the scarcely dressed young women were doing their jobs of securing drinks and soliciting their bedroom clients. Closer to the front wall, he saw the eight gunmen and was satisfied that he had it all covered….With that much fire power, Mister Mabry was in trouble!…All he had to do now was wait. He looked past his men and studied the dark, undraped front windows overlooking the boardwalk, and wondered if Mabry might be watching the saloon from the street?

Sighing, he sipped at the drink as his eyes took in the poker tables, and all but a couple of those were full, causing him to wish he had more gaming tables, high limit tables like Allan had. What was he thinking anyway, insisting that the brothel have only penny-ante poker,…and how in the hell did that Mabry kid win five thousand dollars at one of them, damn his cowboy hide?…It was him that started their troubles, him and his God damn luck!

He angrily dropped the drape and paced the floor a time or two, feeling impatience beginning to work on him….He had never been a patient man, he thought,

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