Hondo (Louis L'Amour's Lost Treasures) by Louis L'Amour

Author:Louis L'Amour
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2019-06-24T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12

WHEN PHALINGER AND Ed Lowe had ridden back a quarter of a mile from Hondo’s place of stopping, Lowe drew up. “Look,” he said quietly. “We’ve got him. Right now he’s makin’ camp. He’ll be mighty cautious. So we let him be. Come daylight, either before he’s up or when he’s gettin’ up, we’ll take him.”

The gambler shrugged. “Your party.” He studied the hills.

“His fingers will be stiff then.”

Phalinger looked at Lowe with a faint shadowing of contempt. “Don’t take many chances, do you?”

“Why be a sucker?”

From the position Lowe had chosen, the arroyo was in view. They could not see Hondo Lane, nor could he see them, but escape from his camp was impossible without alerting them.

Phalinger was quiet. The farther he had gone, the less he liked any part of it. He was a man without qualms. Lowe knew little about him aside from his utter lack of scruples and the fact that he was a slick second-dealer who knew cards and who worked well with a partner. Phalinger had done murder in Missouri, drifted west into Kansas, then south into Texas. He was wanted in both places.

Yet he had an admiration for a brave man, and Hondo Lane was such a man. Despite the fact that he worked with Lowe, he despised him. Yet not even Phalinger knew that Lowe had deserted a woman in Indian country. Had he known, he might have killed him out of hand.

Phalinger was restless. Their camp was good. They needed no fire. They had food and whisky. Nevertheless, the premonition he had felt earlier now returned. Hondo Lane was carrying several months’ wages from the Army and a small poke of gold of his own. It would make a rich haul, and gambling had not been profitable. Too many had lost to them and the word had gone around. It was time to drift, and without money drifting was impossible.

Broodingly he watched Lowe. What drove the man? What was there in him aside from greed and hatred? Yet no man was all bad. Phalinger, who was bad in most ways, knew that he himself was not all bad. Lying on his back he looked up at the stars, thinking about Lowe. He decided that Lowe was weak…weak and jealous.

He would always, Phalinger decided, strike at what was stronger and better than himself.

The only reason that Lowe had neither left him nor struck at him, the gambler was sure, was because he considered himself smarter or braver. The thought was galling.

“It better be tomorrow.” He said the words suddenly. “I’m going back.”

“It’ll be tomorrow.”

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