Meet Me in Moredo (A Big Jim Western Book 2) by Marshall Grover

Author:Marshall Grover
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: piccadilly publishing, big jim, western fiction ebook, old west ebook, leonard meares, marshall grover, jim rand, cowboys and gunfighters us 1800s, online western fiction
Publisher: Piccadilly Publishing

Six – Adios, Burnett Junction

The northbound was stalled beside the plank platform, its locomotive emitting squealing and hissing sounds. Under supervision of the conductor, a lean, gloomy-looking veteran in the advanced forties, several passengers were entering the second and third cars. The first carriage was, of course, the caboose, located behind the fuel-tender.

Studying the conductor, Jim was reminded of the brief description offered him by the ticket-clerk. “Toby Jethrow. Kind of a miserable feller, but friendly enough.” He dismounted and, leading the black by its rein, approached the side door of the caboose with Benito, Maria and Capitan Cortez in tow. The conductor sighted them and came trudging toward them.

“You the gent the ticket-seller told me of?” he called.

“That’s right,” nodded Jim. “The name is Rand. Jim to my friends.” He fished out the tickets, handed them to the conductor. “Your name’s Toby Jethrow—right?”

“That’s right,” grunted Jethrow, as he accepted the tickets. “And you mightn’t think it to look at me, but I used to be a happy man. Yessir, that’s what I was. Happy. But that was ’way back when I was a bachelor. Gettin’ married was the worst mistake I ever made in my whole life. The way Beulah plagues me, it’s a wonder I don’t just set down and die of plain misery ...” His voice trailed off. He shook his head, as though trying to clear it. “I got to break myself of the habit, and that’s a fact. It’s gettin’ worse. When a man starts bendin’ the ears of strangers, it’s time he got a hold of himself.” He squinted at the tickets. “Only two tickets here.”

“Sure,” said Jim. “We didn’t know Benito’s cousin would be coming along until just a little while ago.” He gestured casually to Maria who, with surprising nonchalance lifted one grubby finger in a jaunty salute to the conductor. “I guess it's not too late to buy a ticket for little José, eh? We’ll all be riding in your caboose anyway.”

He fished out his wallet. Jethro eyed the black, the burro and the two small Mexicans, and told Jim:

“Sure, plenty of room for all of you. And you don’t have to go back to the depot office for an extra ticket. I can write one for you.” He produced a pencil and a book of tickets. “Moredo one way?”

“Moredo one way,” nodded Jim.

The ticket was duly purchased. Two porters toted the loading ramp to the caboose and placed it in position at the side door, after which Jim prepared to lead Hank into the car. The porters offered to assist. One made to grasp the black’s bridle and, hastily, Jim growled a warning.

“Jump clear!”

Both porters retreated, and just in time. That massive charcoal would permit no stranger to touch it. Hank was rearing with his forehooves flailing, nostrils flaring and eyes ablaze.

“Down ...” breathed Jim. “Stead—eee ...!”

It took him all of two minutes to quieten Hank. For the first time in his life, the big black was coaxed up a

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