The Pecos Kid #1 by Len Levinson

Author:Len Levinson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: louis lamour, james reasoner, len levinson, ebook westerns, westerns ebook, william johnstone, ralph compton, johnny legg, zan grey
Publisher: Piccadilly

Chapter Five

BUTTERFIELD LED DUANE into the Longhorn Saloon. “If his aim had been three inches to the left, he would’ve cleaned your clock.”

They headed for a round table at the back, where a cowboy was passed out. Butterfield picked him up, then deposited him in the aisle. “Have a seat,” Butterfield said. “I’ll get us a bottle.”

Butterfield stepped over the drunken cowboy, as Duane sat at the table. He leaned back his head, closed his eyes and saw himself standing in the backyard of the Blind Pig, the smoking gun in his hand, Dave crashing to the ground before him. And Duane didn’t even know who Dave was, or where he came from. If I hadn’t left the monastery, this never would’ve happened, Duane realized.

I killed him but he wouldn’t let me off the hook, he reasoned. The incident behind the Blind Pig seemed a dream but everyone in the saloon was looking at him with fear, admiration, curiosity and other expressions he couldn’t fathom. Something told him that his life would never be the same.

Butterfield returned to the table, carrying a bottle and two glasses. “On the house.” He sat opposite Duane, filled the glasses with whiskey and pushed one toward Duane. “Happy days.”

Duane touched his glass to Butterfield’s, then took a sip of smooth, silky whiskey. He and Butterfield sat in silence for several minutes, then Butterfield grabbed Duane’s shoulder. “Don’t let it git you down, kid. I know how you feel. My opinion, for what it’s worth—it’s better to die clean, than be a coward.”

Duane pondered that philosophy and admitted that it made a certain sense. It would be humiliating to back down and wherever you went, somebody might know who you were, point the finger and make remarks.

“For a kid who says he’s never fired a gun before,” Butterfield said confidentially, “you sure had a fast hand. Are you sure you haven’t been bullshitting me?”

“If I’m bullshitting you, then I’m bullshitting myself as well. And I don’t even know who that cowboy was, or anything about him.” Duane narrowed his eyes as he scrutinized Butterfield more carefully. “I can’t help wondering why you stepped into the line of fire. You could’ve been killed and you don’t hardly know me.”

Butterfield grunted. “Life’s too short fer questions, kid. Just keep this in mind: no matter how fast you are, there’s always somebody a little faster.” He tossed down the remainder of his glass.

“They say that you used to be a gunfighter, Mr. Butterfield.”

Butterfield paused, becoming more serious. “Long time ago,” he replied in an almost inaudible voice.

“Ever hear of an outlaw named Joe Braddock?”

“Met a lot’ve people in my day, kid. Can’t remember them all.”

“He was my father and I’m trying to find out who he was.”

“Why?”

“I never met him.”

“There are probably a hundred Joe Braddocks in Texas, who were outlaws. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll see about getting us laid.”

Butterfield arose from the table and Duane realized that he’d pushed the ex-gunfighter too hard. Duane’s mind was a jumble of images mixed together and folded over, as he watched Butterfield head for the door.

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