Slocum and the Three Fugitives by Jake Logan

Author:Jake Logan [Logan, Jake]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Historical, Westerns
ISBN: 9780515153866
Google: QuJvmgEACAAJ
Amazon: 0515153869
Barnesnoble: 0515153869
Publisher: Jove
Published: 2013-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

11

Before he rode into the jaws of the monster that was Rory Deutsch and his sons, Slocum cleaned and oiled his six-shooter. It took a bit of rummaging around to find a box of cartridges in his saddlebags because everything in the bags had been pushed around. If he had wondered about Marta’s curiosity, this answered it. She had searched his saddlebags thoroughly.

Colt reloaded and ready, Slocum followed the trail around and eventually sighted the X Bar X ranch house. What he intended was crazy, but sneaking around the ranch got him nowhere. If anything, it might land him back in the Taos jail when the posse blundered across him.

Slocum halted a few yards from the two-story house. He couldn’t help himself. He looked up at the second-story window where Marta had spied on him before. The curtains moved sluggishly from the breeze blowing through the open window. Of the woman he saw nothing. What he felt about that remained a mystery until something more pressing commanded his attention.

Rory Deutsch came around the side of the house, head down and hurrying along. He looked up, startled, when Slocum called to him.

“They blew it up. Your distiller’s dead and nothing’s left.”

“What are you talking about?” Deutsch looked around as if he had been trapped. “You? You have some nerve to come back here!”

“The posse was looking for me, but your distiller took a shot at them. They killed him and blew up the still.”

Deutsch stepped away from the side of the house and stared past Slocum, about where the still had been. The expression on his face was about the most satisfying thing Slocum had seen in a while. The rancher turned red in the face and bellowed incoherently.

“You have another still to produce that Taos Lightning of yours?” Slocum asked.

“Martin is dead? They killed him?”

“Reckon he’s dead. Had a bullet in his gut, then the still blew up and burned him to a cinder.”

“How do you know? You do it? Why are you telling me this?”

“The posse’s on my trail. They think I killed Annabelle Harris, but I didn’t. I got locked up for it, but the deputy marshal killed her.”

Again Slocum was rewarded by the man’s expression.

“The deputy killed her? Why?”

“So he and his pa could lock me up in jail. They framed me.”

“His pa?”

“Judge Locke, from up in Denver. His son’s a federal deputy marshal name of Byron Locke.”

For the third time Slocum hit the target. Rory Deutsch’s mouth opened and closed but no words came out. If ever he had seen a man stunned by news, this was it.

“You think the deputy killed Annabelle Harris?”

“It makes sense. I need a place to hide out. Might be, I can help you in exchange.”

“How? You’re nothing but—” Deutsch shut up when he found himself staring down the barrel of Slocum’s six-shooter.

He had drawn, cocked, and aimed so fast that he doubted Deutsch saw anything but a blur.

“I’m a damned good shot, too. Want me to show you?”

“Put that away. If my boys see you with a gun on me, they’ll kill you out of hand.

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