Read Online Haxan by Kenneth Mark Hoover - Free Book Online Page A

pard.”
    “Were his pard, Mr. Strop?”
    “He’s headed back to Texas. He’s had enough of Haxan. I don’t have money so I’m stuck here for now.”
    “Where’s Magra Snowberry, Mr. Strop? And Piebald?”
    “Once’t those outlaws let her go, the Indian girl, she carried Piebald up to Doc’s. He had a bad cut on his neck. Lost blood. I guess they left ’bout five minutes ago.”
    “While this was going on, what were the rest of you doing?” I swept my eyes over the gathering.
    Their empty faces stared back.
    “Why should we take a bullet for a half-breed squaw?” another man remarked. “She ain’t kin to us. Anyway, her father was crazy, so it more ’n likely runs in her blood, too.”
    I swung out of my saddle and walked up on him. The crowd pulled away to give us elbowroom. He did his level best to hold my stare.
    “I’m not armed, Marshal.” He swallowed audibly. “I got no truck with you.”
    One of the women put a hand to her breast. “Look at his eyes,” she whispered to a friend.
    I turned my back in disgust. “Which way did they ride, Mr. Strop?”
    “Like I said, they tore hell for leather down Front Street. Didn’t see after that.”
    “They have a buckboard with them? With two men riding a three-point bay and a sorrel mare?”
    “Yes, sir, and well-armed. Marshal, I’m no hero like these people make out. When they heard the bullets whizzing over their heads from behind they lit out like scalded cats is all.”
    “Strop, you’ve just been deputized for as long as you want the position. I’ll see you get paid for this job of work, come what may.”
    He scratched his head. “I won’t lie I could use a job. What do you want me to do?”
    “Pick three men and meet Mayor Polgar. He’s riding in from Shiner Larsen’s shack with a couple of dead buffalo hunters. I want Doc Toland to autopsy them.”
    “I can do that, Marshal.”
    I swung into my saddle and took the reins. I leaned over the pommel and glared down at the crowd.
    “Don’t let me down again,” I told them. “Not ever again.”
    Several men and all the women dropped their eyes. A couple of hard-noses mumbled under their breath, but no one bucked me outright.
    “We’ll do like you say, Marshal,” Strop promised.
    “After I see Magra and Piebald and grab some sleep, you stop by my office, Strop. We’ll talk about your new appointment.”
    “I’ll be there, Marshal. People call me Jake. Mostly, they do.”
    “All right, Jake, have it your way. There are two drunks in the right hand cells. Jail key is in the top desk drawer. They’ve paid their fines. Give them breakfast and let them go after you see Mayor Polgar.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    I kicked my horse into a canter down the street and ran up the stairs to Doc Toland’s office. Magra stood alongside Piebald in the surgery. Doc was bent over the boy, his long face intent.
    “Magra.”
    She turned around. “Hi, John.” She stopped, perhaps wondering if it was right to use my given name under the circumstances. When she found she didn’t mind how it sounded on her lips, she pressed ahead with a slight, relieved smile.
    “Davie is going to be all right,” she said. “Doc says he lost some blood and must rest, but he’s going to make out fine.”
    I looked down at Piebald’s white face. “How you feeling, boy?”
    “Tell this croaker to let me go, Marshal. I was gonna go fishing today with Smarty Coker after I ditched school.”
    “Doc, we have a very brave boy here,” I said, gravely. “He helped save this young woman’s life, and that’s fact. I’d be proud to pay the medical bill for his family, personal like.”
    Doc Toland finished cleaning and bandaging the neck wound. He wiped his hands on a towel. “That won’t be necessary, Marshal. He’s suffering from shock more than anything else. I’ll keep him here. I know his parents well. I’ll get word to them.”
    “My deputy is bringing in two dead men from Gila Creek, Doc. Can you autopsy