Guns of the Mountain Man by William W. Johnstone

Author:William W. Johnstone
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2018-05-17T16:00:00+00:00

17

As Joey dismounted, Pearlie whispered under his breath, “Boy, that’s ’bout the most dangerous-lookin’ man I ever did see.”

Smoke nodded, taking in the scar on the right cheek, the brace of Colt .44s in twin holsters on his hips, and the ever-present Colt Navy .36 in his shoulder holster. Smoke realized Joey hadn’t changed a bit in the couple of years since he’d seen him.

“Hey, old friend,” Smoke said as they shook hands. “Having a passel of babies and becoming a rancher don’t seem to have tamed you any.”

“Not enough so’s you can tell it,” Joey replied with a smile. “Cal, Pearlie,” he said, nodding in greeting.

“Howdy, Mr. Wells,” Cal said, his hero worship showing in his eyes.

“Naw, it’s still just Joey to my friends, Cal. What happened to you to get you all bundled up in that chair?”

“That’s what I want to talk to you about, Joey,” Smoke said. “Come on into the house and tell Sally hello. I suspect she’s got breakfast all ready for you by now.”

“Good. My wife said to tell her hello, and to say she was right. The second young’un’s a whole lot easier to raise than the first.”

Later, Smoke and Cal and Pearlie and Joey sat on the porch, drinking after-breakfast coffee and smoking.

“Now that we got the eatin’ an’ helloin’ behind us, why don’t you tell me what’s stuck in your craw, Smoke?”

Smoke went on to tell Joey about Lazarus Cain and his gang, how they’d shot Cal and were holed up in Fontana, sitting and waiting.

“What do you think they’re waitin’ fer?” Joey asked.

Smoke shook his head. “God only knows, but one thing’s for sure, they’re up to no good.”

“You can make bet on that,” Joey said. “I heared ’bout Cain whilst I was still fightin’ the Redlegs. He was a bastard clear through then, an’ I’m bettin’ he ain’t changed enough so’s you can tell it.”

“That’s what I need your help for, Joey. I need someone Cain will trust to ride on over to Fontana, stay a while, and see if they can find out what his plans are.”

Joey’s lips curved up in a half-sneer and half-smile. “I think I know someone who’ll be glad to do that fer you, Smoke.”

“It’ll be dangerous. He might talk to someone who’ll know we rode together a few years back.”

Joey shrugged. “So what? I’ve rode with plenty of men I’ve later had to kill. How’ll he know it’d matter to me one way or t’other?”

“You may have to prove yourself to him,” Smoke said.

Another shrug. “No matter. I’ve been doin’ that since I was knee-high to a toad.”

Smoke leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Since it’d be too dangerous for you to come here to report, here’s how we’ll handle it . . .”

* * *

Joey rode into Fontana just before dusk, after circling around to enter from the north instead of the south.

The town was already jumping, with music and shouting and hollering coming from the only saloon in town.

Smoke was right, he thought as he looked in the batwings.

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