Quiet Town (A Floating Outfit Western Book 8) by J. T. Edson

Author:J. T. Edson
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Sample Book
Publisher: Piccadilly Publishing
Published: 2017-02-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE-Dutchy’s Gain

RAGE AND IMPOTENCE filled Dutchy as he looked at the empty seat. His money, the vital money for the mine was gone. He had made the bet without thinking of what it could mean if he lost. Now he was the winner and his dreams could be made real. The German girl was the reason he had won, she had taken a beating and come through for him. For what? He did not know, all he knew was his money was gone.

The gambler watched the fight at first without any worry for he knew the result was fixed in advance. Then as Eeney and Olga fought on he guessed something was wrong. He knew for certain when Bearcat Annie, just before the end of the fight went into her office.

Pushing his chair back the gambler rose and walked towards the door of the saloon. Every eye was on the fight and apart from a few yells for him to keep his head down he was not bothered. He reached the door and pushed it open as the yells of the crowd told him the fight was over. It was time he was far from there, hiding until things blew over. With this in mind he started to go through the doors and into the street. The night was dark out there and a fair crowd moved around. Once among them he would be safe.

A hand gripped the gambler’s collar and dragged him backwards, something sharp pricking through his coat and to his spine. A voice, low, mocking and deadly came to his ears.

“You got a real poor sense of direction, friend. Dutchy’s that ways.”

The gambler was swung against the wall and found a slim, dark deadly-looking young man facing him. A man who held a razor sharp bowie knife which said ‘no’ to any arguments. The gambler felt very scared; welshing on a bet was a serious thing in the rough frontier towns. The man who did it was lucky if he did not get hung by an irate crowd. That was why the Ysabel Kid took no chances when stopping the gambler and relieved him of the Derringer in his waistband.

The Ysabel Kid was as interested in the fight as any man in the saloon, but he was never the sort to allow his full attention to settle on one thing. He was alert and on the lookout for he knew Bearcat Annie did not like Dusty, whatever she said to the contrary. The Kid’s Commanche blood gave him the primitive savage’s ability to sense a person’s real feelings. He knew they were in the country of the enemy and although he seemed to be at ease he was alert and watchful. He saw the gambler get up to leave and guessed what was planned, so unseen by the others he rose and followed.

“All right, back to Dutchy,” the Kid said gently. “Move or I’ll drop you where you stand.”

The gambler turned and walked back towards the table like a sick beagle coming to heel.

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