The Blue Mustang by Will Henry

Author:Will Henry [HENRY, WILL]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781428506442
Publisher: Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Egan’s three deputies got off in Fort Goodwin and I never saw them again.

At the last minute Pete turned middling decent. He bought my breakfast and made me take $5 pin money. I didn’t want it but since I had already said I was broke, keeping to Brack’s orders to shut dead up about what I had under my hat, I had to accept it.

On top of that, he went on and told me to stick close to the stage at stops and not to get caught in any talk with strangers and I would make out all right. He further said that if it was actually Sego who’d been after us, I could count on him not following much past Lampasas County because of all the warrants out for him in the thicker settled counties to the north. As to the rest of his gang, the road between Fort Goodwin and Cleburne and then on into Dallas was too heavy traveled for any broad daylight stickups, and naturally I’d be safe in Big D by dark that night.

I thanked him, feeling mighty awkward, and promised him I would remember him and Sheriff Egan.

He turned back grumpy and said to do him a favor and not to bother. It was all in the day’s work for them, and I didn’t owe them a thing but to keep clear of Lampasas next time I meant to get a big brother killed. Then he said a funny thing, one which made me feel better than I had at any time since that sick minute of seeing Brack fall past the coach window, into the dirt. He fetched me a rough clip on the shoulder and scowled, “You jest fergit it, kid. What’d you expect yerse’f to do with Sego Lockhart and six, eight hired guns starin’ at you?”

With that, he gave me a hard look, spit tough, and turned around and walked off. I never forgot Pete. He was a pretty good man for all his mean ways.

We rolled on up to Cleburne for noon dinner and new horses, making Dallas by way of the Waxahachie Cut-off about five that evening.

I’d been in Fort Worth with Dad a couple of times but never in “Big D” as everybody called Dallas then. Since the banks were all long closed for the day when we got in, I just located the Stock-man’s National so’s I would know where it was come opening time next morning. Then I looked me up a cheap hotel down on the south side.

I didn’t sleep much.

I got to the bank with the day janitor about seven o’clock and had to sit out on the steps for near two hours until old Colonel Bellingham showed up a few minutes before nine.

I knew him from Dad’s telling about his Robert E. Lee goatee and his shiny old-fashioned landau hack with the matched team of blood bay Kentucky coach horses and the old colored driver in his red-and-white monkey suit up on top.

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