Torture of the Mountain Man by William W. Johnstone

Author:William W. Johnstone
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2018-09-11T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY

With a few bruises and superficial cuts, Slater dusted himself off, then left the tracks and stepped out onto the dirt road that ran parallel with the railroad. He began walking west, toward the town of Weatherford, continuing on foot the trip that he had started by train.

“I’ll kill that son of a bitch if I ever see him again,” he muttered. But even as he spoke the words, he realized that he wouldn’t even recognize the person if he ever saw him again. It had all happened so fast that he was not able to get a good look at whoever it was that threw him from the train.

Before Slater took the train to Ft. Worth the day before, he had boarded his horse in Weatherford. Now he was afoot, with at least twenty miles to go.

“I’ll kill him,” he said again. “I’ll kill him the moment I see him.”

Slater had a moment of concern. Had he lost his gun when he was thrown from the train? He reached down to his holster and wrapped his hand carefully around the handle. Good, it was still there.

“I’ll kill the son of a bitch,” he repeated, pulling the pistol up, slightly, and letting it fall back into the holster. “The moment I see him.”

* * *

“So, you’re going to Santa Fe to be a schoolteacher, are you?” Pearlie asked the young lady he was sitting beside. “Miss Sally is a schoolteacher.”

“Miss Sally?” Jill asked.

“She’s married to Smoke Jensen, and Smoke is my boss. That’s them up there.”

He pointed, and Cal, who was watching intently, smiled and waved.

Jill waved back. “And who is that?”

“Oh, that’s a sad story,” Pearlie said. “I’m glad you waved at him. He’s a pitiful case. He was kicked in the head by a mule about a year ago and he hasn’t been the same since.” Pearlie made a circle with his finger at his temple. “He’s a little slow, now.”

“Oh, the poor thing,” Jill said, and she looked at Cal again, this time with an expression of pity on her face.

Cal frowned, surprised by the look on her face.

“Why did he frown?”

“Pay him no mind,” Pearlie said. “Remember, he’s not quite right in the head.”

“Oh, bless his heart.”

“Let’s not talk about him anymore,” Pearlie said.

“Cal is my friend, and I don’t want to embarrass him.”

“How sweet of you,” Jill said. “You said you worked for the gentleman who is married to the schoolteacher. What sort of work do you do?”

“Smoke owns a big ranch in Colorado, one of the biggest, in fact. And I’m his foreman.”

“Oh, what a responsible job. And I’m sure you are very good at it,” she added, the broad smile showing her dimples.

For the next hour Pearlie enjoyed his conversation with the attractive young woman, who, he learned, was from Austin, Texas, the daughter of a lawyer. Their visit was interrupted when the conductor came through the car.

“Weatherford!” the conductor called as he passed through the car. “Folks, this is Weatherford. Don’t

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