Long Ride Home (Ss) (1989) by L'amour Louis

Author:L'amour, Louis [L'amour, Louis]
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2010-12-12T06:26:46.906000+00:00

Chapter 1 The Bet.

Tollefson saw the horses grazing in the creek bottom and pulled up sharply. "Harry," his voice was harsh and demanding as always, "whose horses are those?"

"Some drifter name of Tandy Meadows. He's got some fine-lookin' stock there."

"He's passin' through?"

"Well," Harry Fulton's reluctance sprang from his knowledge of Art Tollefson's temper, "he says he aims to run a horse in the quarter races."

Surprisingly, Tollefson smiled. "Oh, he does, does he? Too bad he hasn't money. I'd like to take it away from him if he had anything to run against Lady Luck."

Passman had his hat shoved back on his head. It was one of those wide-across-the-cheekbones faces with small eyes, a blunt jaw, and hollow cheeks. Everybody west of Cimarron knew Tom Passman for a gunfighter, and knew that Passman had carried the banner of Art Tollefson's legions into the high-grass country.

Ranching men had resented their coming with the big Flying T outfit and thirty thousand head of stock. Passman accepted their resentment and told them what they could do. Two, being plainsmen, elected to try it. Harry Fulton had helped to dig their graves.

It was Passman who spoke now. "He's got some real horses, boss."

Tollefson's coveting eyes had been appreciating that. It was obvious that whoever this drifter was, he knew horseflesh. In the twenty-odd head there were some splendid animals. For an instant a shadow of doubt touched him. Such a string might carry a quarter horse faster than Lady Luck. But the doubt was momentary, for his knowledge of the Lady and his pride of possession would not leave room for that. Lady Luck had bloodlines. She was more than range stock.

"Let's go talk to him," he said, and reined his bay around the start down the slope toward the creek.

Within view there was a covered wagon and there were two saddled horses. As they rode down the slope, a man stepped from behind the wagon to meet them. He was a short, powerfully setup Negro with one ear missing and the other carrying a small gold ring in the lobe. His boots were down at heel and his jeans worn.

"Howdy!" Tollefson glanced around. "Who is the owner here?" The tone was suited to an emperor, and behind the wall of his armed riders, Tollefson was almost that. Yet there is something about ruling that fades the perspective, denying clarity to the mind.

"I'm the owner."

The voice came from behind them and Tollefson felt sudden anger. Fulton, who was not a ruler and hence had an unblunted perspective, turned his head with the thought that whoever this man was, he was cautious, and no fool.

As they came down the hill the Negro emerged just at the right time to focus all their eyes, and then the other man appeared from behind them. It was the trick of a magician, of a man who understands indirection.

Tollefson turned in his saddle, and Fulton saw the quick shadow on Tom Passman's face, for Passman was not a man who could afford to be surprised.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.