Read Online Easy Pickings by Richard S. Wheeler - Free Book Online

mine, and found three men hard at work mucking rock out of the mine shaft. They were young, burly, and knew what they were doing.
    They had cleared the shaft, piled the rock to one side, and were putting Kermit’s ore car back into operation.
    They spotted her, but barely stopped working.
    â€œYou are on my property, and you must leave,” she said.
    They ignored her.
    â€œThis is private property. You are trespassing.”
    â€œSorry lady, we’re taking over,” said one. He was the smallest of the three, ferret-faced, full of itchy energy that made him unable to stand still. The other two ignored her, cleaning out the rock from the ore car.
    â€œYour name, sir?” she asked.
    â€œCall me Poker. Call him Three-Card Monte. Call that one Faro. We just hit the jackpot, wouldn’t you say?”
    They all paused, grinning at her, knowing they held the high cards.
    â€œLooks like an abandoned mine to me,” Poker said. “All shut down, no one around. Dead mines, they’re fair game. No one owns ’em. So we done took it.”
    â€œLady, you’re trespassing. This here is now our claim,” said Three-Card Monte.
    â€œYeah, and if you don’t, no telling what’ll happen to you. Can’t say as you’d like it,” added Faro.
    That one was big and smirky and grinning.
    She understood the threat. And it riled her.
    She headed down the grade, but then turned off toward her refuge, where Kermit’s shotgun was waiting for her. She needed a double-barreled one, but this would have to do. What she planned to do might be reckless, but it had to be done.
    She hastened along an invisible trail on the slope, through dense timber, and then to her ledge under the overhanging rock where her few small possessions were hidden. She found the twelve-gauge shotgun, checked the load, pocketed half a dozen shells, and headed back.
    By the time she reached the mine head, they had gotten the mine opened, and two of the three had vanished, no doubt into the shaft. The third, Three-Card Monte, was urinating on the rock pile.
    â€œHands up,” she said, enjoying his dilemma.
    They were slow to rise.
    â€œDo it. This is buckshot and it will cut you in two.”
    â€œAw, lady, you hardly know how to hold that thing. I bet you never pointed a gun in your sweet little life,” he said.
    His hands did not reach for the heavens.
    â€œButton up and then walk in front of me. We’re going to Marysville,” she said.
    He grinned, sat down, and didn’t budge.
    He had read her well. She was not ready to kill the man in cold blood, and he knew it. There were proper ways to deal with this, and shooting an unarmed trespasser was not one of them. She felt a sudden flood of frustration.
    He stood, slowly. He eyed her, eyed the shotgun, and stepped toward her.
    â€œYou’re going to give me that gun, lady,” he said, moving one step at a time, closer and closer.
    She aimed at his knees and pulled the trigger. The shotgun bucked violently, knocking her back. Three-Card Monte howled, collapsed, as blood blossomed on his lower legs.
    She was shocked at herself.
    He sat howling. Both of his legs gouted bright blood.
    She ejected the shell and slipped in another and snapped the shotgun together.
    The other two erupted from the mine, took it all in with a glance, and studied her shotgun.
    â€œPatch him up and carry him off, and don’t come back,” she said.
    They saw the blood, the howling man, and nodded. She let them reach the wounded man and start to bind him up with their shirts. She watched, her shotgun leveled. One of the balls had hit a kneecap. Two others had cut into his calves. Three-Card’s mining days were probably over.
    â€œNext time, I’ll aim higher,” she said.
    The injured man coughed and sobbed. The other two got the bleeding more or less slowed, but the wounded man was wailing, an eerie howl that sent shivers through her.
    She