The Outlaws by Bill pronzini & martin H. Greenberg (eds.)

Author:Bill pronzini & martin H. Greenberg (eds.) [pronzini, Bill & Greenberg, martin H.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Western Fiction
Publisher: Fawcett Gold Medal
Published: 1984-09-30T23:00:00+00:00

* * *

It might have been two hours later or sech a matter when I wakes up with a start, hears some yelling and carrying on, and sees a man hotfooting it down a little ridge not a quarter of a mile off. It’s this here Billy the Kid. I can recognize him easy, and he’s in a almighty big hurry about something, and I see what it is when a couple of Injuns stick their nobs up over the edge of the ridge. Yes, sir. Here I was right in the middle of that passel of locoed Mescaleros which had skipped their reservation.

I was cold and chilled, and I wasn’t looking for any such ructions this early in the morning. But I seen I was in for it, so I looks to my rifle and yells to The Kid. He sees me and kind of stops and considers for a spell. He ain’t in such a good fix nohow. Injuns on one side of him and one of old man Riddle’s men on t’other, but blood is thicker than water, and Injuns is Injuns, so he joins up with me, ducking and running.

The Injuns is holding a powwow up at the edge of the ridge, and they don’t interrupt themselves none excepting to take a pot shot at The Kid or me once in a while just to keep us interested. But Injuns can’t shoot nohow and that far away it’s plumb ridiculous. Up comes this Billy the Kid, his face red from running, grinning from ear to ear and showing his big teeth.

“How many Injuns is they?” I says.

“Seven or eight,” says Billy. “Was that a good pony of yourn?”

“It surely was,” I says, “and I don’t thank you none for your gunplay.”

“I was loaded up with jig-juice,” says Billy, “and my blood was up; I’m plumb sorry.”

Well, we crawled up into the hills just across from the Injuns and got our backs up against a rock wall and a big boulder in front of us. The Injuns was still powwowing over on the ridge and popping at us every now and then just to relieve their feeling, I reckon, ’cause they wasn’t doing nothing but wasting powder.

“Looky here, pardner,” says The Kid, “you’re a Riddle man, ain’t you?”

“I am,” I says, “and I been chasing you all over hell and gone.”

“Well,” says The Kid, grinning, “here I be.”

He was a danged ingratiating feller and I kind of took a shine to him.

“Looky here,” he says, “let me take that rifle and dust some of them Injuns.”

“Nope,” I says, “use your six-gun.”

“Can’t,” he says, “the range ain’t right and I dropped my rifle some place or another.”

“Pretty careless, ain’t you?” I said.

“Right smart,” he said and picked up my rifle and was sighting it when I took it away from him.

“Use your own gun,” I says. But, gents, effen he didn’t talk me out of that gun I’m a shoemaker, and good thing he did, too, ’cause while

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.