Read Online Killoe (1962) by Louis L'amour - Free Book Online Page A

country and is a master at ambuscade . There was very little about hunting or fighting that the Indian did not know, and what he did not know, he learned fast.
    Conchita McCrae stood tall in my estimation, and I liked the way she looked straight into your eyes and stood firmly on her small bet . That was more of a woman than I had ever seen before.
    "The Comancheros," Miguel said, "I do not approve of what they do. They are some of my people who trade with the Comanche, and it is a profitable trade, but they sell the rifles with which to kill, and they kill our people, and yours also."
    He paused to catch his breath, and then said, speaking more slowly, "They believed I was spying when I was only hunting wild horses, for they knew me as one who did not approve. I had hoped to avoid trouble with them, but there are men among the Comancheros who are worse than the Comanches themselves."
    "The man with the scar?"
    The skin around his eyes seemed to draw back. "He is the worst of them. He is Felipe Soto. You know of him?"
    I knew of him. He was a gunfighter and a killer. It was said he had killed more than twenty men in hand-to-hand battles with knife or gun. How many he had killed in fights of other kinds, no man could guess.
    In a few short years the man had become a legend, although so far as I knew he had appeared east of the Pecos on only one occasion. He had crossed the Rio Grande from Matamoras and killed a man in Brownsville.
    He was an outlaw, but he was protected by many of his own people, and among them he had been guilty of no crimes. A big man, he was widely feared, and even men who might have faced him with some chance of winning did not care to take the risk such a meeting would involve.
    "Where did they find you?"
    "Ah! There is the trouble, amigo! They find me just as I have come upon their.., shall we say, rendezvous? It is a word you know?
    "There is a canyon to the north, a great, long, high-walled canyon, and in the bottom there is rich, green grass. They were there ... the Comanches and the Comancheros.
    This place I have seen is a secret place, but I had heard of it. It is the Palo Duro Canyon."
    "They will follow him, Mr. Killoe," Conchita said. "They will not let him live now.
    The Comancheros are men of evil. If they do not find him now, they will come searching for him when he is home again."
    "What they do then is no business of mine," I said, "but we won't let him be taken from us. I promise you that."
    There was a movement behind me. "Don't make any promises you can't keep."
    It was Tap Henry. His features were hard, and there was a kind of harsh impatience in his eyes that I had seen there before this.
    "I'll keep the promise, Tap," I replied quietly. "I have made the promise, and it will stick."
    "You'll listen to me," Tap replied shortly. "You don't know what you are walking into."
    "I have made my promise. I shall keep it."
    "Like hell you will!" Tap's tone was cold. "Look, kid, you don't know what you're saying."
    He paused, taking a cigar from his pocket. "We've got enough to do, getting our cattle west, without borrowing trouble."
    "Please," Miguel had risen to one elbow, "I wish no trouble. If you will loan me a horse, we can go."
    "Lie down, senior ," I said. "You are my guest, and here you will stay."
    "Who's leading this outfit , you or me?"
    "I thought Pa was," I said dryly. "When it comes to that, we're both working for him.
    His face stiffened a little. "Well, we'll see what Pa has to say, then!" he said sarcastically.
    We walked together toward where Pa stood by the fire. Zeb Lambert was there, squatting on his heels, and Zeno Yearly was there too. Ira Tilton had come in from his guard for coffee and I saw his eyes go quickly to Tap Henry.
    "Pa," Tap said, "the kid here has promised those Mexicans that they can have our protection all the way into New Mexico. Now, we know the Comancheros are hunting them, and that means trouble! They can muster fifty, maybe a hundred white men and more