Vengeance of the Mountain Man by William W. Johnstone

Author:William W. Johnstone
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2016-01-11T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Sundance Morgan removed his hat and sleeved sweat off his forehead. Though the air was cooler the farther north they rode, a mid-afternoon sun in a cloudless sky was brutally hot. In the last few days on the trail they hadn’t come near a town of any size and his men were getting testy and short-tempered. Three days with no whiskey or females was beginning to cause problems.

The saloon women they had taken from the stage line station lasted only a few days. Two were killed trying to escape, the other, two days later, had taken her own life. While one of the outlaws was having his way with her, she pulled his Colt from its holster, shot him, and then put the barrel in her mouth and pulled the trigger, ending her torture. They left their companion to die in the dirt beside the bullet-torn body of the prostitute.

Sundance knew if they didn’t come to a town soon, there would be trouble—blood trouble. Lightning Jack had taken to taunting some of the Mexican riders, calling them greasers and chili-eaters. It was only a matter of time before one of them, or Perro Muerte himself, stuck a knife between someone’s ribs, and that would be the end of the uneasy alliance of the desperados.

Just when he was about to call the gang to a halt for their nooning, Sundance topped a ridge and saw a small group of buildings in the distance. He twisted in his saddle and waved his hat at his followers. “Mi compadres, a town!”

The killers perked up and spurred their horses to a trot, anxious to sit on something that didn’t move and drink something stronger than water.

On the outskirts of the village was a hand-lettered sign nailed to a pole: Hell’s Hole, Colorado Territory.

The place was little better than a mining camp, with more tents than buildings. The good news was a large tent with a board front attached that had the word Saloon printed in large block letters at the top.

Sundance held up his hand. “Okay, men, I know you’re ready for some whiskey and women, but we got to get the horses cared for first. Take ’em to the livery stable and get ’em fed and brushed down before headin’ for the dog hole.”

His pronouncement was greeted with several hoots and groans, but he scowled them into silence. “Don’t forget who’s in charge here! We got us a ways to go yet ’fore we get to Smoke’s grounds, and I want no broncs pullin’ up lame.” He whirled his mount around and headed toward the far end of town where corral stables were visible from high ground. “We’ve got plenty of time to get alkalied, and to get laid if that’s what you’re hankerin’ for,” he added.

They rode off the ridge at a short lope.

After leaving their horses in the care of an elderly man at the livery, the entire group of paid gunmen walked down a dusty street to the saloon.

The

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