The Hunt for Clint Adams by J. Roberts

Author:J. Roberts
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2010-05-26T04:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-TWO

Within the hour, Clint got a message back from Roper saying he would meet him for supper in the Denver House Hotel dining room. Clint took the time to have a long hot bath, and then cleaned his gun just in case he needed it later on.

He found Roper in the lobby as he came down the stairs, and the two shook hands warmly.

“What are you doing in the lobby?” Clint asked.

“I thought we’d have a drink at the bar first,” Roper said.

“Good idea.”

They went into the hotel saloon. The clientele here was always very different from the saloons Clint was more used to: no cowboys or gamblers here, but a lot of businessmen who worked in the area.

Roper ordered two beers at the bar and then turned to Clint.

“What brings you to Denver without warning?” he asked.

“I was nearby,” Clint said, “tracking two men who took some shots at me.”

“Not unusual for somebody to shoot at you,” Roper said. “What made these so special you had to track them down?”

“They shot a friend of mine who was only guilty of walking with me.”

“Dead?”

“Luckily, no.”

“Who was the friend, if I can ask?”

“Big fellow named Black Jack Mulligan.”

Roper thought a moment, then said, “Don’t know him.”

“You might have come to know him,” Clint said. “He was supposed to come here to Denver for a poker game. Private invitation.”

“That have anything to do with you really being here?” Roper asked.

Clint took out the ace of hearts, neatly cut in half.

“The invitation?” Roper asked.

“Yes.”

“What about the location?”

“The Wellington Hotel,” Clint said.

“Wellington.” Roper sounded surprised.

“You know it?”

“Open two years ago, owned by a man named Harry Orchid.”

“Orchid? That a real name?”

“Probably not.”

“Some kind of flower, isn’t it?”

“Fancy one,” Roper said. “People grow them, and collect them.”

“Collect flowers?”

Roper laughed.

“Better than collecting bullets.”

“You have a point.”

“I hear Tarver got out,” Toper said. “Think he’s behind the shooting?”

“When Tarver comes for me, it’ll be head-on,” Clint said.

“Maybe he’s . . .”

“He’s what?”

Roper shrugged. “Maybe he’s trying to soften you up.”

Clint thought about that. Send two men to shoot at him and miss? But why shoot Mulligan? What would be the point of that?

“I’m hungry,” Roper said.

“Me, too.”

They finished their beers and went in to have supper.

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