Halliday 10 by Adam Brady

Author:Adam Brady
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gunfighters, cowboy stories, colt 45, western series, western ebooks, piccadilly publishing, old west fiction, western action adventure
Publisher: Piccadilly

Jim Buchanan was standing against the cookhouse wall when Buck Halliday appeared after a hearty breakfast. The new man had met most of the hired help, but like Red Simpson and Tub Wheelahan, most had kept their distance. But this didn’t worry Halliday in the least.

He looked straight into Buchanan’s eyes and saw deep-seated hostility lurking there. Flicking his cigarette away, he started to move past the man. As he did, four of the crew came out of the bunkhouse and another three materialized from the other side of the cookhouse. Hearing sounds behind him, Halliday looked back to find the cook, with a greasy cloth in his hands, standing in the doorway he had just left.

“Where to now?” Halliday said.

Buchanan looked down at his huge hands and grinned. “Cord says I got to teach you the ropes. I reckon I’m about ready to do it.”

“You’ll find me a quick learner,” Halliday said.

The men at the bunkhouse sat down on the steps. The three behind Buchanan leaned against the cookhouse wall.

Buchanan came slowly toward Halliday, swinging his arms. “First lesson, is this ...”

Dropping his right shoulder, Buchanan drew back a meaty fist. Halliday stood and looked coolly at him, feeling the eyes of the hired hands on him. There was no sign of Cord Dorgan or Jay Casey, but Halliday had the feeling that they were watching. Maybe Simpson and Wheelahan were, too.

“I’m thinkin’ that could be a bad way to start the day, Jim,” Halliday said.

The words made Buchanan hold back his punch for a moment. But then a gleam of bitterness reached into his eyes and his upper lip curled back.

“I don’t know a better way, Halliday,” he said, and then he threw the punch.

Halliday blocked the blow with a forearm and felt pain work up to his shoulder. Buchanan packed a hard wallop. Then a swinging left came at Halliday’s head. He blocked that, too, without retaliating.

“Any minute now,” Halliday said, “I’m gonna stop learnin’ and start teachin’.”

Buchanan stepped to the side, suddenly wary. He’d put a lot behind those two blows, and Halliday hadn’t flinched or backpedaled.

“I’m waitin’,” Halliday said. “What’s the next lesson?”

Buchanan let out a roar and threw himself at Halliday. But Halliday knocked his hands aside and hooked two solid rips to Buchanan’s stomach. The big man grunted, started to double up, but then straightened and jumped back, a curse coming to his bloated lips. Then one of the three men behind Buchanan called out;

“You hittin’ him with feathers, Jim?”

Buchanan wheeled and glared, staring into expressionless faces.

“Maybe he’s gettin’ too old for this,” Halliday mused.

Buchanan spun back, anger burning in his eyes. He drew in a deep breath and lumbered in, snarling;

“We’ll see who’s old, Halliday! We’ll see!”

Halliday smiled but the smile went when a punch caught him high on the head and another breezed past his jaw. He moved to the side and brought his hands up defensively.

Buchanan moved in, body hunched, shoulders swollen with power. Halliday swayed one way and then the other.

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