They Called Him Preacher by William W. Johnstone

Author:William W. Johnstone [Johnstone, William W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pinnacle Books
Published: 2019-03-07T00:00:00+00:00

28

Preacher stopped beside the prostrate figure of Cora Ames. She lay across the chest of the dead man named Hashknife. Gently Preacher bent down and raised her. Tears streaked her face. Preacher’s puzzled expression asked the question for him.

“Th-they called him Hashknife,” Cora gulped. “Hi-his-his real name was Quincey Ames. He is—was—my oldest brother.”

That took Preacher like a sucker punch. He had words of scorn for any man who would mistreat a woman, yet her revelation sucked them out of his mouth. How could he tell her to dry her eyes and not grieve over such a lowlife, when it was her own brother? Well, by dang, all considered, she shouldn’t waste tears over him, Preacher bristled at last. He bucked up and tried another approach.

“From the first time I saw him, I was thinkin’ there was somethin’ familiar about his looks. His face that is. I never imagined. Can you tell me what brought him here with Ezra Pease?”

“I—don’t know all of it. He was my idol when I was little. Then, when he was around fifteen . . . something . . . went wrong. He changed. Grew rebellious against Father. He held religion to scorn, despised every decent emotion. He started running with some rowdy boys from the other side of town. Then one day, the bank was robbed and Quincey disappeared along with several of his hooligan friends. Father saw him once or twice after that, but it always upset him so, he never talked about their meetings. His name appeared in the Boston newspapers several times and then . . . he seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth. Now, he is here . . . and he is dead.”

“And I killed him. I won’t say that I am sorry. He made that choice, not I. I’ll leave you now, Miss Cora. Only I’m gonna leave a bit of good advice. Don’t grieve for him too much. He weren’t worth it.”

* * *

A week passed in the valley, the missionaries busy burying the dead, the drivers nursing their wounds. Cora Ames remained distant from Preacher throughout the long days of ripe spring. Then, late on Friday afternoon, a stranger ambled his mount down into the settlement. Preacher and his friends slouched over to inspect the newcomer.

“Howdy, folks,” the stranger greeted. “I didn’t know there was a settlement here.”

“Well, now you know,” Preacher challenged, his wounds making him testy. Cora’s avoidance had something to do with it too, Dupre suspected.

“So I do.” The stranger cut narrowed eyes to Preacher. After a long moment of inspection, he gave a small negative shake of his head. “You’re not the one, but I am looking for a man. I am U.S. Marshal Ruben Talbot.” For the hundredth time, he produced the sketches of Silas Phipps and the orphan children. “They are wanted for robbery, murder, and flim-flam games all over the East.”

When the likeness of Phipps reached Preacher he wrinkled his nose and gave a short. “Yup.

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.