Herne the Hunter 19 by John J. McLaglen

Author:John J. McLaglen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: apache indians, piccadilly publishing, gunfighters of the old west, western fiction ebook, gunfighters and outlaws in the 1880s, jedidiah herne western adventures, john j mclalgen herne the hunter series
Publisher: Piccadilly Publishing

Nine

Louanne was waiting for him, sitting disconsolately at a table in the empty saloon. With no customers most of the local girls had gathered to play a noisy game of penny-ante stud in the corner near the bar. And a couple of Miss Abernathy’s oldsters were also in there, one of them quietly picking a tune out of the battered piano by the staircase. As soon as they saw Herne walk in the old men exchanged glances and rose to their feet. Hurrying out of the Inside Straight without a backwards glance at the shootist.

The posse had left earlier, all fed and watered, loaded with extra ammunition and guns. Rifles, pistols and scatterguns. Ready to teach “that bastard Mendez a damned lesson”.

Herne would be surprised if the posse got close enough to fire a shot in anger at the Chiricahua leader.

There seemed a resentment against the shootist, most of the girls turning away from him, refusing him even the minimal courtesy of a whore’s smile. Louanne explained to him that the Sheriff had told folks in Stow Wells that Herne wasn’t prepared to ride out with them after the killers of Roy Goddard and the kidnappers of the respected Mr. J.W. Locke.

‘And some of the girls says you’re scared.’

‘You say that?’ asked Jed.

‘No. No, I don’t. I just ... I just figure you must have your own reasons.’

‘Yeah.’ The shootist saw no reason to explain to a teenage prostitute how his thinking went. She wasn’t important enough for that. She was only really important to Herne for one thing.

And as soon as he’d eaten a quick meal and downed a couple of shots of liquor Herne took Louanne up the broad stairs, past the ornamented golden cherubs at the top, into his room. And used her for what she was best at.

‘What time is it?’

‘Round five.’

The girl yawned, rolling over on her face, burying her head in her arms. The sheet slipped away from her, revealing her naked from top to toe. Herne glanced once across at her, the sight of her dimpled bottom giving him a brief smile at the memory of parts of the previous night. Then he turned away to something that interested him far more.

‘What are you doin’?’

‘Cleaning my guns. The Colt and the Sharps.’

‘Why?’

It was a question of such staggering stupidity that the shootist didn’t even bother to reply.

‘They dirty? They sure look clean to me.’ She was sitting half up, her breasts red and marked around the nipples with finger-marks where Jed hadn’t been too considerate in his handling.

‘Fire a gun and it’s fouled,’ he grunted. Concentrating on his work.

‘You didn’t use that handgun.’

‘There’s the fouling from powder. Lead. Dust. Damp. All of ’em work against a gun.’

He’d already cleaned off the sides and the front of the cylinder, using an oiled rag. Barrel and the frame recesses had been wiped clear. He’d cocked both pistol and rifle several times, listening intently to the sound of the actions. Eyes screwed up with the effort of listening, trying to catch the slightest sound of something not quite right.

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