The 8th Western Novel MEGAPACK®: 4 Classic Westerns by Dean Owen & Richard Jessup & William Byron Mowery & J. Allan Dunn

The 8th Western Novel MEGAPACK®: 4 Classic Westerns by Dean Owen & Richard Jessup & William Byron Mowery & J. Allan Dunn

Author:Dean Owen & Richard Jessup & William Byron Mowery & J. Allan Dunn [Owen, Dean]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: range, gunslinger, indian, western, cowboy
ISBN: 9781479421886
Publisher: Wildside Press LLC
Published: 2016-05-10T16:00:00+00:00


When Rhodes finally folded the papers and looked up his face was grave; and the pity in his eyes struck a chill into Gary.

“It’s—it’s pretty bad, isn’t it, Rhodes?”

“Yes, bad. Didn’t you realize that I’d have to take you up?”

Gary’s hands gripped the desk top, and he battled against the paralyzing conviction that he had lost his fearsome gamble. Past Rhodes’ shoulder he caught another glimpse of the cement-steel butter-tub; and as he thought of Leda and the cabin and the wild freedom of Little Saghelia, something near to panic shook him.

“Yes, I knew you’d have to act,” he managed. “But I thought that with your experience and Police connections, you might figure some way to help me. That is, if you’ll believe my story.”

“I’d like to hear it, of course,” Rhodes said gently. He proffered cigarettes.

Gary shook his head, scarcely noticing. The monotonous rain drumming upon the cottage roof was bringing him vivid memories of that Winnipeg night when, in the space of a few hours, the whole course of his life had been changed.

“I’ll make it short,” he said, forcing himself to speak calmly to the man across the desk. “Here it is:

“I got out of law school in Chicago on the tenth of June. Besides needing money, I wanted an outdoor summer, so I headed north for Canada.

“At Fort Frances, there on the Border, I buddied up with three young fellows, transients like myself; and we caught a rattler on to Winnipeg.

“While we were living in a hobo jungle there, waiting to get shipped to a job we’d signed up for, another fellow joined us, a person we called Greenie. I think Winnipeg was his home—he seemed to know all the ropes around the town.

“Those other three fellows thought Greenie was pretty hot stuff, but he and I didn’t get along. I sized him up as a chiseler and small-potato crook. One evening we had a quarrel and a fight, and I threw him out on his ear. He stood outside in the rain cursing me. I went to sleep with him standing outside that tin shack spewing oaths at me.



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