McAllister Gambles (A Rem McAllister Western) by Matt Chisholm

Author:Matt Chisholm [Chisholm, Matt]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: action hero, American History, Best western ebook, Peter Watts, Piccadilly cowboys, Piccadilly Publishing, The Wild West, Western series, Westerns
Publisher: Piccadilly
Published: 2022-04-30T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

TILBY LED THE way through the trees away from the lake. They must have covered a quarter-mile in silence before they reached the rocks. Tilby seemed to disappear into the face of them. McAllister followed him and found himself pulling the canelo through a fissure that was just wide enough to allow the horse through. They then came to the bright glow of a camp-fire and the air was full of the fragrant smell of coffee.

‘This would take some finding,’ McAllister said.

‘I hope so.’

‘Where’s the wagon?’

‘Hidden just north of here,’ Tilby said. The querulous voice was gone. Now he used his natural firm soft tone. His sleepy lost air had also disappeared and he was his usual alert self. He poured coffee for them and asked McAllister if he wanted to eat. McAllister said ‘No’. They smoked while they drank, McAllister his pipe and the little man cigarettes made of black tobacco and brown paper.

McAllister said: ‘I thought I’d die laughing back there at Prescott’s place. Best act I ever saw.’

Tilby didn’t smile. ‘You don’t know how near you were to dying,’ he said.

McAllister contradicted him.

‘That’s where you’re wrong. I think I do know.’ He told Tilby about the killing of the unknown man and of how he had shot Abe Little. Tilby listened in silence, merely nodding every now and then.

McAllister finished by saying: ‘Maybe I messed up the whole deal.’

‘Not a bit of it,’ Tilby told him. ‘You did what I did. You scared the living pants off Prescott, as you call him. After seeing his outfit, I have the feeling he won’t run. Do you agree?’ McAllister agreed—

‘He won’t run. You know, I reckon he’s done all he has done just to get where he is, running a horse-ranch. This is his dream.’

‘You like the man,’ Tilby accused.

‘I guess I do.’

‘That was the last thing a great many men did in this vale of tears.’

‘You think he knew you?’

‘Certain of it He over-acted a mite, but I reckon he put on a good performance. Well, if he doesn’t run, there’s only one thing he can do. That’s kill the pair of us.’

‘He’s had plenty of chances to kill me.’

‘You’re putting yourself in his boots,’ Tilby said. ‘You can’t do that. Prescott’s a different crittur to you. He’s a strange mixture of cowardice and boldness. Haven’t you noticed that?’

McAllister nodded.

‘Yes, I have,’ he said. ‘And it’s puzzled me.’

‘It’s puzzled better men than you, Rem,’ Tilby told him. ‘And fooled them. His inconsistency’s his strength. When you think he’ll act yellow, he gets out his gun and kills you.’

McAllister knew that the little man was right; everything he said about Joe Prescott was undoubtedly true, yet it was still hard to believe.

‘You’re certain he’s Lessing?’ he said.

‘As certain as I am you’re Rem McAllister,’ Tilby said. ‘I’m as sure of the woman.’

‘So’m I,’ McAllister agreed. ‘How about Curly and Jake?’

‘Curly I know only from hearsay. A good all-round badman. Ridden the owl-hoot for years. Did time ’way back for a killing.

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