Renegade 24 by Lou Cameron

Author:Lou Cameron
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: piccadilly publishing, jr roberts, captain gringo, lou cameron books, men of fortune adventure novels, mens sexy adventures, piccadilly publishing westerns, johnny legg, ron schawb
Publisher: Piccadilly

Captain Gringo laughed and said, “The water will still be cold no matter how long we wait, and we’ve waited too long already. Don’t worry. By noon it’ll be so hot up there among the rimrocks you’ll be wishing you were sitting on a block of ice.”

“Sacre God damn, my poor blue balls won’t thaw out for at least a week. You do intend to stop somewhere between here and the border, don’t you?”

“Sure, we’ll break for siesta once it’s too hot to ride any further. There may be some shade up in the hills. For the mules, I mean. Us little guys can always toss a shelter half over a couple of bushes for a shady rest. But we have to keep our mules in shape.”

“I’m so pleased to learn you worry about somebody in this trés fatigué expedition, Dick. Why are you still pushing them so hard? We got rid of the crybabies last night, non?”

“We’ll see, once we push what’s left a little harder. I don’t want any weaklings coming with us all the way, and, hell, last night was hardly a real initiation. Some of the guys still with us could have been real sissies, without the balls to desert, see?”

Gaston started to bitch some more about his own frozen balls, but Captain Gringo pulled his mount’s head up and rode to gather his other leaders for a tactical discussion, explaining the change in route and telling those few who objected to just shut up and do as they were told.

And so, long before the general’s dispatches ordering an even more abrupt change in route could reach him, Captain Gringo had led his people upstream beyond human ken.

The higher, rougher, intermountain trail, if one could call it that, allowed them to ride most of the time, even though it called for leading the protesting mules on foot over some of the rougher stretches. The crooked valley between boulder-covered ridges was choked in places by other boulders that recurring earthquakes had rolled down the dusty slopes on either side. The once-wooded valley also offered lots of rotting tree stumps to avoid.

Well before they passed the remains of a long-dead charcoal oven, it was obvious that the ubiquitous Guatemalan carboneros had gutted and abandoned this ruined landscape, and, since it couldn’t be good for anything else now, Captain Gringo congratulated himself on choosing a route that a regiment could march by broad daylight, unobserved by anything more important than a circling buzzard or two.

The broad daylight of course started getting hot as hell well before noon. So when they found themselves in a narrow gut, shaded along one side by the still-slanting sun, he called a halt and told his people to make sure they watered and rubbed down their mules before they broke out the tobacco and grub.

He tied his own jaded mount to a clump of brush with a nose bag of parched corn after he’d watered it and dried its hide with gunny sacking. Then,

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