Shawn Starbuck Double Western 4 by Ray Hogan

Author:Ray Hogan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: piccadilly publishing, lawmen and outlaws, best western ebook, pulp fiction ebook, colt 45 winchester rifle, ray hogan, outlaws 1800s america, shawn starbuck westerns
Publisher: Piccadilly

Two

Starbuck glanced at the speaker, an elderly, graying man with pale eyes, hooked nose, and a stringy mustache that matched a raggedly cut beard. He was somewhat below average height, but there was a cool competence in his manner that bolstered the authority indicated by the star he was wearing. This would be Sam Culver, Shawn realized.

“Keep out of this, Sheriff!” Yancey snarled. “It ain’t none of your butt-in.”

“Anytime I hear a gunshot I make it my butt-in,” the lawman replied briskly as he shouldered his way through the gathering of bystanders. Halting beside Starbuck, he favored all with a sharp look. “What happened here?”

There was no volunteered reply from the crowd. Shawn shrugged. Rufus Lingo’s hold on the town of Kennesaw was even tighter than he’d been led to believe. But the man meant nothing to him.

“Yancey was hoorawing that man you saw headed for the doc’s. Fellow objected and Greer shot him. Yancey was going to finish him off, so I took a hand.”

Interest narrowed Culver’s eyes as he swept Starbuck from hat to boot. Cocking his head to one side, he said: “That so? Don’t you know you ain’t supposed to horn in on Yancey when he’s having what he figures is fun?”

The mocking tone was not lost on Shawn. His shoulders stirred. “Sure didn’t—”

“Something you’ll be paying for later,” Lingo said coldly.

Starbuck’s voice was equally flat. “Welcome to try collecting anytime you’re of a mind.”

“Expect you’ll be the one that’s doing the paying, Yancey!” Culver stated, his craggy features hardening. “I’ve put up with you about as long as I aim to. You ain’t nothing but trouble—been that way ever since you was born, and I’m mighty damned tired of it!”

“Do tell!” Lingo said with a scornful grin. “Now, just what do you figure you can do about it?”

“A-plenty. Been looking into a couple of your cute tricks, and if things work out, I’ll be jugging you on some charges you won’t squirm out of.”

“Charges? What the hell you yakking about, old man?”

“Roping that hired hand of Charlie May’s and letting a horse drag him till he was most dead, for one thing.”

“Aw, we was only funning—”

“Funning! He maybe’s going to die from it! And then there’s that Mex girl that works for the Kilibrides. Shape you left her in after you and your bunch got through—”

“She was only a Mex. Hell, we—”

“Only a Mex! What’s that mean? You think she ain’t a human and entitled to be treated same as other folks? Then there’s that little jag of steers of Abe Foreman’s that just up and disappeared one night right after you and them three that sides you was seen on his place—”

“You calling me a rustler?” Yancey demanded, his voice high-pitched with anger.

“Not yet, but I’m hoping to, and if I come up with some proof you’re going to jail for it. Just because you’re Rufus Lingo’s boy don’t cut no hay with me. Far as I’m concerned you’re nothing but another outlaw needing

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