The Kansas Fast Gun by Arthur Kent

Author:Arthur Kent [Kent, Arthur]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Robert Hale
Published: 2012-04-02T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12

Frome went back into the café. Somebody brushed by him, leaving. He saw Curly standing by the table, her hand to her mouth. He took her arm, leading her deeper into the café, found an empty table and sagged heavily into the chair.

Curly sat opposite him. She was frowning. She produced a handkerchief, pushed it towards him. ‘There’s a cut on your forehead.’

Frome took it, put it to the cut. A hammer seemed to be clanging in his head; he had difficulty in seeing straight. In a moment he laughed. ‘That was some fight. What do you think, Curly. Wasn’t it a beaut?’

‘Never mind what I think,’ Curly said sharply. ‘You should have ignored it. I’m used to such treatment.’

Frome said, ‘Well, you’d better get used to not accepting such treatment.’

‘That was Hesta Le Roy, wasn’t it? The girl you’re engaged to?’

Frome found suddenly that he didn’t care. ‘Was engaged to. I didn’t notice any ring on her finger.’

‘But then you weren’t looking at her, were you?’

Frome smiled at the seriousness which showed on the girl’s face. ‘Did you notice the ring?’

‘No.’

‘But you looked, didn’t you?’ Frome smiled savagely. ‘You looked because something told you she might be the girl. So you looked to see if she wore an engagement ring.’ He bent forward, smiling. ‘Tell me, Curly, was she wearing a ring?’

‘She wore gloves, I ... I couldn’t see.’

‘To eat food – she wore gloves to eat food?’ Frome smiled.

The waitress came up. She looked firm. Her hand went to her waist, she looked at Frome pointedly, and said, ‘What about the damage, Mister Frome?’

Frome said, ‘Put it on the bill. Better still, go over and see my lawyer.’

‘Very good, Mister Frome.’ The waitress went away.

Curly got up. ‘I’d better get back, Dave. My next show.’

Frome got up. ‘Sorry I spoiled your lunch.’ He took the handkerchief away from his forehead.’ How do I look?’

She smiled then. ‘You’ll pass.’

Suddenly she was very beautiful and the words caught in Frome’s throat. She looked at him intensely for a moment, then she turned away. He followed her from the café. Kyle Bennett had gone; and so had Hesta. They turned into the alley leading to the side entrance of The Drovers. They stopped at the door, and Curly swung suddenly and looked up at him; and he placed his arms around Curly’s waist, sliding them beneath the cloak and lifting her towards him. They kissed and her arms went round his neck.

Frome whispered, ‘I spoiled your lunch, so how about dinner tonight?’

‘We’ll see,’ Curly began to break away – and then Frome heard footsteps approaching quickly. His hand sank for his gun. Mike Sturmer turned the corner. ‘Dave,’ he panted, ‘been looking all over for you.’

‘What is it?’

‘Your old cook, Long Will, just rode in. Three-four minutes ago. I’ve got him in my office. He says somebody’s rustled a whole herd of your cattle.’

Frome found it hard to believe. ‘A herd?’

Sturmer swung at the door. ‘Come this way ... I’ll take you to him.

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