The Long, Long Trail by Max Brand

Author:Max Brand [Brand, Max]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Western, Fiction
ISBN: 9781163073780
Publisher: Kessinger Publishing, LLC
Published: 2010-09-14T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 23

“A fine saddle, kid, eh?” repeated Jud Boone, who after pausing a few paces now went a stride nearer. The eyes of Valentine widened a little, fascinated, and then, by degrees, he was able to look away from his enemy to the prize. He touched it with a shaking hand.

“Pretty nice,” he admitted.

“Yep, and they've wasted a pile of silver in fixing it up, I'd say.”

It was an obvious opening for an insult, if Charlie Valentine chose to follow it up. But it was instantly clear that he would avoid the issue if that were possible.

“I guess I'll have time to keep the silver shined up, Jud.”

It seemed somehow that a subtle appeal were conveyed by this use of the man-killer's first name. Something of appeal, too, in the faint smile which the boy now turned on his antagonist.

As though he was mutely saying: “For Heaven's sake, Jud Boone, be merciful. Don't push me to the limit; give me a chance!”

Salt Springs noted all this, and the face of Salt Springs took on a sick look of pain and horror.

Then the same girl's voice, shriller than before, and closer to the door of the saloon:

“I will get in there, I tell you. Iwill get in! They're getting ready to fight now. I can tell it by the silence!”

A muttering of men's voices followed. Those were the Normans, no doubt, who were keeping the poor creature away.

And then her voice, pitched higher still: “Oh, if any of you are half men, go in and stop them! Save Charlie Valentine! He's only a boy!”

Somehow that girl's voice was the crowning horror.

Charlie Valentine, shaking like a hysterical woman, turned his head with jerks and stared at the silent crowd along the wall.

“Won't some of you—go out—and stop that noise?” he murmured gaspingly.

But the brutal Boone had seen another opening and instantly took advantage of it.

“What's the matter, Charlie? Does the lady think you're sick? Or about to get sick? That's Nan Tucker, ain't it?”

But he had whipped down the pride of the boy too much. Now a touch of color came in young Valentine's face.

“My dad taught me one little thing,” he said, “and that was never to name ladies when I was having a drink. Around these parts, Boone, we most generally keep our womenfolk outside of saloons.”

“But,” said Boone, furious at the murmur of approbation along the wall, “I ain't seen any drinking going on.”

“We'll start in now then.” He turned to the others. “Step up, boys, and have one on me.”

Not a man stirred from the wall. The pale, interested faces stared as if these two had been on a stage, and the others were sitting behind footlights watching the drama of unreal lives. Charlie Valentine swung back again with an attempted smile, which only served to show his set teeth, flashing. “Nobody ain't particular dry, I guess,” remarked Jud Boone.

“I guess not,” whispered Charlie.

“Speaking of saddles, son, I hear that you ain't really got any right to that one.

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