Louis L'Amour - 1959 - Taggart by Louis L'Amour

Author:Louis L'Amour [L'Amour, Louis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Taggart made matters clear. “These people took me in, as they have you. What happens here concerns only you and me. I would not want you to make a mistake.”

“We’ll see.”

Taggart spooned honey into his coffee. “When this storm is over, why don’t you just ride out of here?”

“You’re worth too much money to me, Taggart. Alive or dead.” He sipped coffee from the saucer and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Anyway, I can’t ride out. My horse broke a leg last night or I’d be in Globe by now.”

“How did you find this place?” Stark asked.

“Now that’s a coincidence,” Shoyer explained agreeably. “A man in my business makes a point of marking down in his memory such places where a man might hide. One time when I was scouting for the Army I almost fell into this canyon, but until I needed a place I had clean forgotten it.”

“You stirred something up,” Stark said. “You’ve got the Apaches out and hunting.

My advice is that nobody try to leave here until things simmer down. When they get out like this they prowl like hungry wolves, and I’ve the women to think Shoyer tipped back in his chair. “Suits me.” He put a toothpick between his teeth.

“Dry place to sleep, women folks to do for a man … can’t say I’d mind a rest.”

Outside the rain pounded on the roof, and Consuelo had put a pot under a leak in the roof. Occasionally a huge drop fell into the water already gathered there, the sound loud in the silent room.

Only a trickle of water ran down the floor of the canyon, and the presence of the buildings there after all these centuries indicated that there was rarely more at any time. A flash flood would have torn out the stable and damaged the other buildings.

The deep canyons and washes that scarred the desert were carved out by just such flash floods that would run bank full for a few hours and then vanish. But in those few hours, or even in minutes, dams could be ripped out and homes destroyed.

Swante Taggart watched the rain flooding past the window and rolled a smoke. From this moment he would have no rest, knowing Pete Shoyer’s reputation for bringing in his man, yet he was not excited or even worried. His years had taught him that each problem was to be met when it approached, and nothing was to be done about such situations until the moment for action. His problem now was simply to wait … and to be on guard for any sudden move that Shoyer might make.

He had no fear of Shoyer. He had been shot at before this, and with luck he would come out of this to be shot at again. If not, he would be dead and it would not matter anyway. He was neither a fool nor an egotist, but he knew what he could do with a gun, and the years had keyed his muscles and mind for emergencies.

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