Read Last Train to Bannock [Clayburn 02] for Free Online

around to share it with me." His voice had acquired a nasty cutting edge to it. He held out his left hand again. "Give."
        The big bruiser on Adler's right shifted his feet.
        Wilks snapped, "Don't get nervous, Benjy." His hand slapped lightly against his holster. The sound froze the big man.
        Adler hadn't really expected to get away with it. Besides, he might be needing Wilks again. Getting the rest of the money from his other pocket, he placed it in Wilks' waiting palm. "I may have more work for you, on the trail to Bannock."
        "I can always use more cash," Wilks said agreeably.
        "Then hole up in the Sangre Bianco gorge and wait for me. I'll be bringing the freight up through there."
        "I'll be there." Wilks pocketed the money and untethered his horses, watching Adler's bodyguards while he did so.
        "Be careful," Adler told him. "Sheriff's out with a posse hunting you."
        "They'll play hell tryin' to follow the trail I left." Wilks swung up onto his saddle, tugged the other horse by its lead rope, and rode off into the darkness.
        Dillon, the thin, surly kid with Adler, said softly, "He don't look so tough to me. If I'd've had my gun, you wouldn't've had to pay him the rest of that dough."
        "You've never seen Wilks in action," Adler told him shortly. "I have. You wouldn't stand a chance against him. Besides, I still need him."
        "You figure the Sorel woman's still gonna try hauling freight up to Bannock herself?"
        Adler nodded. "If I'm any judge, she's got that Clayburn fellow backing her all the way."
        Dillon rubbed his thin hand on his thigh. "She wouldn't have him for long, if I could get hold of a gun in…"
        "Shootin' ain't the only way to kill a man," Benjy cut in heavily.
        Adler looked at the big, powerful man thoughtfully. "You must might have an idea there."
        Benjy grinned, showing broken teeth. "Man's found beaten to death, ain't no way of provin' it didn't happen in a fair fight."
        "It's worth trying," Adler said slowly. "Where's Slope?"
        "Makin' a round of the saloons, like usual."
        "Get him."
        They walked back through the night to Parrish City.
        
***
        
        Prowling the town, Clayburn found one of the biggest and rowdiest saloons in the red-light district and went in. He stuck to the crowded bar for a time, not drinking much, mostly looking and listening. With the probability of trail trouble from Adler's crew and Apaches, he knew exactly the kind of men he needed.
        By the time he left the saloon he'd found the first of them-Ranse Blue, a scrawny, seedy, sour-faced man in his late fifties. Blue was working as the saloon's swamper, but he'd been a buffalo hunter until he'd been reduced to this a few years ago by the finishing off of the big wild herds. Which meant he'd be a superb rifle shot, injun-wary, and know how to hunt and read tracks.
        Eagerness glowed in Ranse Blue's bloodshot eyes as Clayburn told him about the job. But the rest of his seamed, weather-ruined face remained sour. "What kind of pay you offerin'?" he demanded suspiciously.
        When Clayburn told him, Blue's sourness increased. "That ain't much-for a man with all my experience."
        Clayburn told him about the bonus, though he was quite certain the old buffalo hunter would have been willing to work for next to nothing at any job less humiliating than his present one. He understood that Blue's hesitation was merely pride-salving.
        Blue pretended doubt as he considered the bonus offer. "Wouldn't get that unless we got to Bannock okay."
        "We'll get there."
        "Still a long time to wait. Now, if you was to offer me enough of an advance on that… Been a long time between drunks for me."
        The owner of the saloon appeared at Ranse Blue's elbow, glaring. "What the hell're you loafing around the bar for, Ranse? You still ain't