Read Online Kill Angel! (A Frank Angel Western #6) by Frederick H. Christian - Free Book Online Page A

relying on you. Now: when you get
there, go see Dave Hurwitch. You know Dave, don’t you?’
    ‘ Yeah,’
said Gregg eagerly. ‘He runs the saloon.’
    ‘ That’s
it. Tell Dave — now this is the important part, Gregg, so try an’
concentrate — tell Dave there’s a one thousand reward for the man
who brings me Angel.’
    ‘ One
thousand dollars for the man who brings you Angel,’ Gregg repeated.
‘Gee, that’s easy, Burke. I c’n remember that easy.’
    ‘ Good
boy,’ Burke said. He slapped his brother’s massive shoulder. ‘Get
on that horse an’ ride, Gregg.’
    Gregg nodded, a huge grin on his face. He
swung up on to his horse and larruped it around the withers with
the long reins. The startled animal bucked a little, and then Gregg
thundered off across the plaza heading due north towards Santa
Elizabeta.
    ‘ You
never sent any description of Angel,’ one of his men pointed out.
Burke grinned evilly.
    ‘ That’s
right,’ he said. ‘Dave’ll be so anxious to clap his greasy paws on
that thousand he won’t let any stranger get through Santa Elizabeta
until he’s absolutely goddamned certain that the man ain’t someone
called Angel!’
    ‘ What
now, Burke?’ another man called.
    ‘ We
wait,’ Burke Blantine said. ‘I could be dead wrong, in which case,
no harm’s done. All we got to do is catch one yappin’ cur. But if
he’s laid a finger on the Old Man ... ’
    He looked up the far hills and his eyes
narrowed. The gloved hand curled again into a fist and he smashed
it into the flat palm of the other hand.

Chapter
Eleven
    Night found the fugitive quartet in a box
canyon which Vaughan had seen up to the north-east, a high walled,
narrow crack in the rocky mesa they had been skirting. They eased
the horses up to the sloping wall at the closed end of the canyon,
and made camp.
    ‘ No
fire,’ Angel said.
    Vaughan looked at Gates glumly.
    ‘ You
bring anything?’ he said.
    ‘ Uh-hunh,’ Gates
replied.
    ‘ Great,’ Vaughan said. ‘No coffee, no whiskey. Looks like
bein’ a chilly night.’
    ‘ You
can dream of buttermilk and honey,’ Angel told him. ‘Break out that
pack an’ we’ll eat. I got some cans o’ beans in there.’
    They hunkered down and ate an unappetizing
cold supper. Blantine gestured querulously with his bound
hands.
    ‘ You
ain’t gonna keep me tied up like this, are you?’ he grumbled. ‘I
ain’t got any feelin’ in my hands anymore.’
    ‘ Things
are tough all over,’ Angel told him. ‘Do the best you
can.’
    ‘ Goddamn you, I can’t eat like this,’ fumed
Blantine.
    ‘ Starve, then,’ Gates said coldly. He wolfed down the cold
beans as if there was a famine coming. Vaughan watched him with
unabashed wonder.
    ‘ Look
at him,’ he said to nobody in particular. He poked at the cold
beans on his tin plate with thinly concealed disgust.
    ‘ Don’t
you want them beans?’ Gates said.
    ‘ I
should’ve stayed in Abilene,’ Vaughan replied, handing over the
plate. When they had finished eating, Angel told them to get some
sleep.
    ‘ I’ll
take first watch,’ he said. ‘Two hours each. I want to be moving
again before sunup.’
    ‘ Run
all you like, Angel,’ Blantine nagged. ‘My boys’ll catch up with
you.’
    ‘ Oh,
shut up,’ snapped Vaughan. He pushed the old man backwards, and
Blantine rolled over, lying down perforce. ‘Go to sleep before I
bend a six-gun over your thick skull.’
    Blantine glared at him with undisguised
hatred.
    ‘ You’ll
pay,’ he hissed. ‘You’ll all pay.’
    ‘ Yack,
yack, yack,’ Vaughan said, making a quacking gesture with his
fingers.
    Blantine spat and rolled over, pulling a
blanket around his shoulders. He lay on the ground, his eyes
unwinking and full of hate. After a long while, the yellow eyes
closed and the old man slept, dreaming of revenge.
    Towards dawn, Gates shook
Angel ’s
shoulder. Angel came instantly awake, coming up off the ground with
a six-gun in his hand.
    ‘ What?’
he said,