Novel 1950 - Westward The Tide (v5.0) by Louis L'Amour

Author:Louis L'Amour
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Usenet
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 1950-08-01T08:00:00+00:00

8

“Rosanna Cole?” Bardoul shrugged. “Never heard of her. I'm quite sure that Colonel Pearson will lend you every possible aid, however.” Matt hesitated. “For murder, you say? Where did all this happen?”

“In St. Louis. She has been traced as far as Deadwood, but they lost track of her there.”

“Since when did the Army start doing police business?” Matt grinned at the young officer.

“The Army does everything out here!” He looked from Matt to Jacquine. “My name is Lieutenant Powell.”

Bardoul's eyes crinkled at the corners. “My name is Bardoul, and may I present Miss Jacquine Coyle?”

“Miss?” Powell's eyes brightened. “Say, that's jolly! I was sure you two were married when you rode up! Something about the way you look.”

Matt grinned. “Sorry, I got that cut over my eye in a fist fight.”

The burly sergeant sitting behind the lieutenant spoke suddenly. “Sir?”

Powell turned. “What is it, Sergeant?”

“This man is Matt Bardoul, sir.”

Matt glanced quickly at the sergeant. He had never seen him before. The name evidently meant something to the lieutenant for he turned quickly and looked at Matt again. “Sorry,” Powell said, “I didn't connect the name. We've heard a lot about you, sir. You'll find friends at Fort Reno, a number of them.”

Powell smiled at Jacquine. “I hope you can stay a few days, Miss Coyle. We see all too few women at Reno.”

The sky was already turning gray and the long shadows were drawing back reluctantly toward the snowcapped mountains in the west. The air was very fresh and cool, and without talking, Matt rode on ahead, Jacquine keeping pace with him. When they reached the stream they stopped and their horses waded gratefully into the water, drinking and blowing.

It was very still. A bird called in the aspens down stream, and the darkness that lay on the water lifted. There was a damp freshness in the air, and the smell of trees and some faint, barely discernible perfume from some blossoming vine hanging in the trees.

“You know,” Matt said suddenly, “sometimes I wish we could have met under other circumstances.”

Jacquine looked up quickly, then away. “What circumstances?”

“Oh, in the town you came from. In your home, at a dance, at another home. This way, well, there's almost everything against us at the beginning. The things you heard about me, the dislike your father has for me . . . all of those things.”

“Maybe they aren't important.”

“Perhaps not, but again they might be much more important than either of us realize. Now, in a few days, we will be nearing the end of our trip. We go north now, and then around the Big Horns into the Basin, and we will come to the Shell. Then or sooner, a lot may happen.”

“You think there will be trouble?”

“A lot of trouble. I think we may have things happening from the day we leave Fort Reno.”

“You know that I think you're mistaken?”

“Yes, of course. I think I know how you feel. Frankly, while I warned your father about bringing you along, I'm glad you came.

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