Clay Nash 2 by Brett Waring

Author:Brett Waring
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: cleveland western, piccadilly publishing, keith hetherington, western fiction ebook, brett waring western, gunfighters and outlaws of the old west, old west novel ebook, wells fargo 1800s
Publisher: Piccadilly Publishing

Chapter Six – Prisoner

Clay Nash walked slowly towards him, covering him with the rifle. He gestured for the man to get to his feet and he did so slowly, staring at Nash with cold, angry blue eyes. He brushed the long hair out of his eyes and Nash noticed the bleached stubble around his jaw line, the aquiline nose. He did not seem to be wounded but Nash made him turn around then shoved him towards a tree. Here he made him encircle the trunk with his arms and then snapped a pair of handcuffs on his wrists while he searched him thoroughly. He noticed that there was a pale band around one of his fingers the flesh white against the tan.

“Listen, I got no money!” the yellow-haired man gasped. “You’re wastin’ your time ...”

“Think so?” Nash said, satisfied that the man had no hidden weapons. He looked at his boots but couldn’t see any bulge or lump as Roarin’ Dick Magee had described and the man hadn’t walked with any noticeable limp when he had been shoving him towards the tree.

“Who are you, mister?” the yellow-haired man asked. “Some kinda lawman?”

“What makes you ask that?”

“The handcuffs. Ordinary rannies don’t carry them, I guess. But if you think I’ve done anything wrong ...”

“That’s what I think. What’s your name?”

“Brad Burns, but ...”

“Where you from?”

“Talbot, Minnesota.”

“Recently!”

“Oh—all over. I’m just kinda ridin’ around, looking at the frontier, gathering material to write a book about it. Used to work for an illustrated paper in Talbot. I haven’t done anythin’ wrong, mister, and you still haven’t said who you are.”

“Clay Nash, Wells Fargo. And don’t waste your hogwash on me, Burns. I’ve got you dead to rights.” He gestured towards the jaded horse. “That’s the horse you used when you tried to hold up the Knife Edge stage.”

Burns blinked at him. “You’re loco! I haven’t held up any stage!”

“There’s the Blackwood-Meredith Springs stage, too. You got several killings against you, kid.”

Burns was pale under his tan now and he frowned at Nash, shaking his head swiftly. “Hell, man, you’re wrong! I haven’t done anythin’ like that! And that’s not even my horse.”

Nash arched his eyebrows and hunkered down to roll a smoke, looking at the prisoner coldly. “S’pose you tell me about it, Burns.”

“Sure. That’s all I want to do ... Look, I’ve been on the trail for a week ...”

“Comin’ from where?” Nash interrupted, lighting his cigarette. “I want all the details.”

“Okay, you’ll get ’em. I’d been working around a place called Cloud Mesa, with some sheepherders. They got into a war with the local cattlemen and I got run out. I went to a town and bought a horse and outfit and there I heard about there being a gold rush up in the hills near Blackwood so I decided that would be another aspect of frontier life I should get to know about so I set out for here ...”

“You’re takin’ a long time to get to the part I’m interested in,” Nash said shortly.

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