Better Off Dead by William W. Johnstone

Author:William W. Johnstone
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2016-01-11T19:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

There’s nothing wrong with killing a man. Everybody dies and a bullet only hastens the deceased into the grave a little early. That in a nutshell was the philosophy of Frank Tansey, probably one of the deadliest gunmen in Texas. Even the half-crazy, homicidal Dave Rudabaugh stepped lightly when Tansey was on the prod and Bill Bonney admitted that of all the pistoleros he’d known, Tansey was the fastest on the draw and shoot.

However twisted his reasoning, the tall gunman lived by a code. He drew the line at killing women and children and he never abused or ill-treated animals. For years, a little calico cat had ridden in his saddlebag and accompanied him everywhere. When the kitty died of old age, he’d never sought another.

The killing of Shawn O’Brien, the Town Tamer, was just another chore to be done. It was strictly a business proposition that would put money in his bank account.

Tansey considered Big Buck a cow town like any other and he’d seen dozens of them. The warm beer and overpriced whiskey would be the same. It would have the same creaky-floored hotel room that filled up during the day with flies and dung dust from the cattle pens and mosquitos at night. No one would be glad at his coming or sad at his leaving except the saloon girls and the bartenders.

Abaddon gave him pause. The cannon foundry thrust out of the ground like a gargantuan steel fist and dwarfed everything around it—the town, its people, and even the surrounding prairie that was the creation of God. A chimney taller than any tree erupted thick smoke and defaced the blue sky with its own black cloud. The foundry sounded like a hundred locomotives highballing on the same track, a never-ending clanking, clanging, racketing roar.

Some towns are so pleasant that they invite a man to linger. Big Buck was not one of them. Tansey decided to get his business done, collect his bounty, and ride the hell out of there and bed down under the quiet stars.

He left his horse at the livery stable and walked across the rainy street to the saloon. A bartender was the font of all knowledge and he’d know if Shawn O’Brien was in town or not. If so, it would be just a matter of calling him out and getting the job done.

Tansey gave himself an hour to get his work in, collect the bounty, and light a shuck. Looking around at the men in the street, he didn’t see anyone who was likely to try and stop him.

He stepped inside and ordered a beer. “So how come everybody in town wears those spectacle things on their hat brims?” he asked Ambrose Hellen.

The bartender smiled. “They’re called goggles. The workers at Abaddon wear them and it’s how the folks show their support for the foundry and what it’s done for the town. I got cheese and crackers. You like cheese?”

“Yeah, cheese is just fine.”

“Passin’ through?” Hellen set a wedge of cheddar in front of Tansey.

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