Read the High Graders (1965) for Free Online Page A

out o f town. He was a bigger man than Mik e remembered, with a strong face and a smile on hi s lips that did not reach to his eyes.
    The redhead moved down the table opposit e Shevlin. "You didn't tell him your name," h e said.
    "He didn't ask," Shevlin replie d mildly.
    "Well, I'm asking."
    "None of your damn' business." Shevli n spoke in such a gentle voice that it was a momen t before the meaning got to the redhead.
    When he realized what had been said, Re d smiled. He wiped his palms on the front of hi s shirt. Then he stood up very slowly, still smiling , and reached across the table to grasp the front o f Shevlin's shirt.
    Shevlin dropped his knife and fork, and his lef t hand grasped Red's wrist, jerking him forward.
    There was an empty dish on the table that had hel d mutton. With his right hand Shevlin pushed the miner' s face down into the dish and, gripping Red's lef t hand, he coolly wiped his face around in the col d mutton grease.
    Abruptly, Shevlin let go and Red cam e up, half over the table and spluttering with fury.
    Shevlin jerked the butt of his palm up under th e man's chin and sent him toppling back over th e bench to the floor beyond. During the entire action h e had scarcely risen from his seat.
    For a second, Red lay stunned, then with a n oath he started to rise. A voice stopped him.
    "Cut it out, Red! This time you'v e swung too wide a loop. This gent would clobbe r you good!"
    Shevlin looked around. There he was--older , of course, and heavier. Yes, and better dresse d than Shevlin ever remembered him. His face wa s puffy, and he looked like a man who was living to o well--something nobody could have said of the ol d Gentry.
    "Hello, Gib," Mike said. "It's bee n a while."
    Gentry thrust out a big hand. "Mike!
    Mike Shevlin!" There was no mistaking th e pleasure in Gentry's voice. "Man, am I g lad to see you!"
    Shevlin took the hand. It was all wrong, h e thought. Whatever else Gentry might do, he woul d not kill a man like Eli. A tough man , Gentry was, even a cruel one at times, but a man who fought with fighting men.
    Shevlin was aware of the room's attention.
    Clagg Merriam was watching them, his fac e unreadable. Red was slowly wiping the grease from hi s face.
    "Come down the street, Mike," Gentry wa s saying, "and I'll buy you a drink for old time' s sake."
    Reluctantly, Shevlin got up from the table.
    The last thing he wanted was a drink. What h e wanted was food and coffee, gallons of coffee.
    "The town's changed," Shevlin sai d tentatively as they emerged on the street. "I d on't see many of the old faces."
    "Gone ... gone with the cattle business."
    Shevlin waited until they had taken a fe w strides, and then he asked, "What happene d to Ray Hollister?"
    Gentry's smile vanished. "Ray? Go t too big for his boots, Ray did. He lef t the country ... and just in time."
    "He always did try to take big steps."
    "Say!" There was obvious relief i n Gentry's tone. "I'd forgotten about the time yo u two tangled out at Rock Springs. You neve r did get along with him."
    The thought seemed to please him. Gentry reste d a big hand on Shevlin's shoulder as they reached th e door of the Gold Miner's Daughter. Mik e restrained his distaste. He had never liked to b e touched, and had not cared for Gentry' s back-slapping good humor.
    To get to the point, he asked, "Are yo u ranching, Gib?"
    "Me?" Gentry opened the door, and went o n speaking as they entered. "The cattle business i s a thing of the past in this country. No, I'm in th e freighting business. Hauling for the mines-s upplies in, gold out, working twenty to thirt y rigs all the time."
    Mike saw no familiar faces in th e saloon. Gentry lifted a hand and the bartende r tossed him a bottle, which Gib caugh t deftly. Then the bartender tossed two sho t glasses, which Gentry caught just as easily with th e other hand. He had always been fast with his hands for a big man ... and fast with a gun.
    Gentry was in a genial, talkative mood , and Shevlin was