Edge 52 Brutal Border by George G. Gilman

Author:George G. Gilman
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: General Fiction
Publisher: LOBO Publications
Published: 2018-08-01T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

SUPPER WAS as good as the midday meal had been as far as Edge's jaded taste buds were concerned. And his appetite for the steak and beans and grits and gravy was not spoiled by the tacit animosity that was thick as the heavy heat in the atmosphere of the dimly lit mess hall. Where he was left to eat in pointed isolation by men who mostly may well have secretly enjoyed the small victory he scored over Wade: but were not about to be seen to align themselves with his stand against the hired gun considered to be the hardest and meanest of a bunch that had no pantywaists. Even Mike Madonna sat apart from Edge, but he had not been in the barrack during the exchange so maybe the kid was still smarting from the put down he had received from the half-breed at the stable.

Edge was untroubled by the cold shoulder. Just as he had been unperturbed earlier by the way in which the sentry on the west wall—named Stuckey and one of the regular army deserters—had talked without ceasing. This after Edge had climbed to the top of the wall by the ladder at the north end to scan the terrain spread out below. Most of which would soon be veiled in near pitch blackness unless the thick clouds broke to let through the moon or a storm swept across the borderland with electric flashes of lightning. The exception was the area where the short spur trail from the fort gateway joined the main trail: where Howie Beach had set up his bordello on wheels. Parked the Conestoga, taken the team from the traces and pitched three pup tents. Lit a couple of kerosene lamps within the hooped cover of the wagon and a cooking fire in a circle of stones between the tailgate and the tents.

It was about the whoremaster and the whores that Stuckey spoke, happy to have some company up on the wall and eager to air his knowledge of Howie Beach who was something of a legend around the army posts and mining camps and other isolated communities scattered over the south western territories.

'Brought a lot of comforts to a lot of lonesome guys, Edge,' the bright-eyed and slack-mouthed army deserter went on. 'Surely was a welcome surprise to me when I first see him come by with that old prairie schooner the first time. More than three years ago, I guess. Made use of the service he supplies a half dozen times since then. And never have gone with the same woman twice. That's one thing Howie is famous for—turns over his stock pretty fast. So it's always fresh when he comes by a place for the second time. What surprises me is that nobody ever set up in competition with Howie.'

Edge could have told Stuckey that at least one other man had been in the same business until not so long ago. Jim Bishop who had operated with a pair of whores named Brenda and Molly from a wagon equally as eye-catching as Beach's Conestoga.

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