Shadows From Boot Hill by Hubbard L. Ron

Author:Hubbard, L. Ron [Hubbard, L. Ron]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Adventure
ISBN: 9781592126095
Amazon: 159212609X
Goodreads: 16564367
Publisher: Galaxy Press (CA)
Published: 2011-09-30T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

WHEN Susan Price got back to the ranch she found Big Bill sitting on the top step with her eight-year-old brother, Buster. Big Bill was demonstrating the border shift to an apt pupil when he heard Susan. He thrust his .45 into its holster and took off his hat as he stood up.

Buster looked reproachfully around Big Bill’s right leg. “Hell,” said Buster. “I was just gettin’ the hang of it and you had to come along.”

“Buster!” said Susan.

“Awright. Heck, then.”

“Ma’am,” said Big Bill, “I’m glad to see you got home all right. I was wondering . . .”

“Thank you,” said Susan.

“Ma’am, I was wondering if you still felt sorry for that polecat, Spick Murphy. I got to thinking about it and remembering the way he’s got with the women and—”

“Sir?”

“Well, you got mixed up in a sheep war and I thought if you was goin’ to get mixed up in this, I better try to ride you off. Spick’s goin’ to be lynched and that’s all there is to it. I—”

“You are convinced of that, are you?” said Susan icily.

“Shore. Everybody knows—”

“You’re willing to condemn a man before he’s even tried! You despise him because he’s half-Indian and half-white! You’re just like the rest of these barbarous men! The poor fellow hasn’t a chance of a fair trial! Get out of my sight!”

Big Bill didn’t move. He was too stunned. He stood revolving his hat round and round while Susan entered the house. Finally, very puzzled, he went out and climbed his horse and rode disconsolately away.

Sam Price heard the hoofbeats and glanced out of his study window. He sat up straight and laid John Marshall aside. Susan came in.

“What’s the matter with Big Bill?” said Sam Price. “He looked pretty sad. Have a fight?”

“He’s a fool!” said Susan.

Sam Price leaned back in the Morris chair. “So you did have a fight. What about?”

Susan sat down on the arm of his chair and ran her fingers thoughtfully through his sparse gray locks. “Dad, you’ve got to do me a favor.”

Sam Price suspected something was coming and he knew there wasn’t much use trying to fight it. The very futility of the effort caused his jaw to set in a hostile manner.

“If it’s more Mexicans and sheep, I am telling you positively that I am not interested. These matters are in the hands of the men they concern and my jurisdiction ends with the front door.”

“Now, Dad,” said Susan.

“Don’t you ‘Now, Dad’ me, Susan Price. My mind is made up. I don’t care what has happened, I won’t be a party to it and that’s final.”

Gruffly he sat back again and pulled John Marshall into his lap and began to open the pages. There was a long silence and then in a high-pitched, angry voice he demanded, “Well, dammit, what is it?”

“They caught a man named Spick Murphy and they’re determined to hang him as a rustler and murderer as an example to the outlaws in Rio Carlos. He’s a fine-looking young fellow, half-Apache, half-Irish.

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