Rescue by William W. Johnstone

Author:William W. Johnstone [Johnstone, William W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2016-09-21T04:00:00+00:00

Twenty

Tucson was crowded, busy, hot, and dusty. After they stabled the horses and Dog with them, then got rooms at a hotel, Julie and the girls called for a hot bath. Leaving Danny and Jerry to look after the privacy of the women, Frank and Dewey went in search of the seediest-looking saloon.

“When them females git nekkid, no peekin’ now,” Dewey told the young men, bringing a flush of color to their cheeks.

Frank laughed at the young men.

On a side street, Frank spotted a likely-looking watering hole. “That looks about right for a place to have some trouble.”

“It shore do, Drifter. For a pure-dee fact. Wonder if that feller layin’ out front is passed out drunk or dead.”

Frank looked up into the sky and then pointed. “No buzzards.”

“Hell, he might smell so bad even they don’t want to have nothin’ to do with him.”

“That would be some powerful, Dewey. You ready to cut this dust from our throats?”

“I figure a bottle might do it.”

“I’ll leave the rotgut to you,” Frank told him. “I’ll settle for a couple of beers.”

It was smoky but cool inside the dimly lighted saloon. About a third of the tables were occupied, with half a dozen men at the bar. Frank and Dewey took a spot at the end of the bar and waited for the barkeep.

“What’ll it be, boys?” a big man in bad need of a shave and wearing a very dirty apron called from the other end of the bar.

“A bottle for my friend and a beer for me,” Frank called. “You got anything to eat in this place?”

“Beans and tortillas.”

“Bring a couple of plates, will you?”

“Comin’ up.” The barkeep paused and looked back at Frank. He frowned. “Don’t I know you, Mister?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I think I do. It’ll come to me in a little while. You sure look familiar.”

Frank sipped his beer and Dewey knocked back a shot of red-eye while they waited for their food. When the food came, it was surprisingly good. The beans were spicy and the tortillas were hot and fresh.

Frank caught the bartender’s eye. He motioned toward the food. “Good, real good.”

The barkeep pulled a beer for himself and walked down to the end of the bar, leaning against it. “My old woman’s a good cook.”

“She shore is,” Dewey mumbled around a mouthful of food. “This here is damn good grub.”

“You boys look like you’ve come a piece.”

“Phoenix.”

“That road’s closed,” a young man standing a few yards away from Frank said. “Nothin’ movin’ north or south in days.”

“Except for us,” Frank said quietly. The man was hunting trouble; Frank picked up on that immediately. But Frank was not the sort to back down from anyone, much less a loudmouth.

“I say you didn’t come from Phoenix.”

“And I say I don’t much give a damn what you say.”

“Nobody talks to Ted Collins like that, mister,” the young loudmouth said, pushing back from the bar to face Frank.

“I just did, Ted,” Frank said softly, picking up on the name Collins.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.