Powder Valley Showdown by Brett Halliday

Author:Brett Halliday
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781504024976
Publisher: Open Road Media

11.

It was a little before midnight when Pat Stevens rode his tired horse back into Dutch Springs. The only lights in the little village were at the Gold Eagle Saloon and up the street at the Jewel Hotel. He dismounted in front of the saloon, saw Ezra’s and Sam’s horses tied there along with a few others.

Ezra was at the bar with a group of men still discussing the afternoon’s accident over a bottle of whiskey. Ezra’s single eye gleamed redly as he turned it toward the sheriff, and his scarred face was flushed by the amount of liquor he had inside him.

“Hyar comes Pat Stevens now,” he boomed to the others at the bar. He lurched forward unsteadily. “Whatcha bin doin’, Pat?”

“I rode to Hopewell Junction to make a report to the stage company on the accident,” Pat said curtly for the benefit of the listening men. “You’re drunk as a fiddler’s spotted dog, Ezra.”

“Mebby so.” The big man grinned happily and flung a heavy arm about Pat’s shoulders. “But I ain’t yet as drunk as a hootey owl. You kin see that plain as day fer yoreself.”

Pat shrugged Ezra’s arm off his shoulders and went up to the bar. He filled a glass from the bottle sitting there, and tossed it down, then turned to ask Ezra, “Where’s Sam at?”

“Up to thuh hotel.” Ezra closed his one eye in a slow wink that gave his face a look of cunning. “Makin’ up to that purty gal from thuh East, I wouldn’t be none s’prised. Wait’ll Kitty Sloan hears about that. She’ll give ol’ Sam what-for.” He laughed drunkenly and reached for the bottle.

Pat shoved it back out of his reach. “You’ve had plenty for tonight,” he told him shortly. “One more drink an’ you’ll be worse’n a hootey owl.” He took him by the arm and led him toward the swinging doors firmly, saying, “Some outside air is what you need right now.”

A snicker ran around the group of men behind them at the bar as they passed out into the night. Outside the door, Ezra jerked his arm from Pat’s grip and told him in an offended tone, “I ain’t as drunk as I was makin’ out back yonder. I didn’t wanta do no talkin’ outta turn so I jest pertended like.”

“What’s Sam doing at the hotel?” Pat turned up the street in that direction.

“Makin’ his stakeout on that Texas rannie like you tol’ him to.” Ezra lurched along unsteadily beside him. “Wasn’t no need fer both of us tuh tuck him in bed was there?”

“So he put up at the hotel?” Pat mused. “Do any talking around town?”

“Not much, I reckon. Tol’ some of thuh fellers he was ridin’ south from Denver an’ was sorta on thuh lookout fer a foreman’s job if he could find one hereabouts.” Ezra stumbled and clutched Pat’s arm to steady himself, and hiccoughed loudly. “You find out anything in Hopewell Junction?”

“Not much. Nothin’ to talk about.” Pat led him in

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