Read Online King of Spades by Frederick Manfred - Free Book Online

Indians call a two-legged.”
    â€œOh.” With a swift movement of his hand, Roddy swept back his wavy brush of sun-touched brown hair.
    Magnus let down a trace. Slowly he settled on his heels and then beckoned for Roddy to come closer. Roddy came and Magnus put his arm around him. “Son?”
    Roddy stood quietly inside his father’s arm. He shot his father a single sidelong look, more at his father’s lean cheek than at his livid eyes.
    â€œSon?”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œYou know what I told you the other day?”
    Roddy shot his father another look. “You mean about that man sneaking around here window-peeking?”
    â€œYes. What’re you going to do when you catch him?”
    â€œQuick run over and call Herman the cop.”
    â€œRight.” Magnus gave Roddy a hard squeeze around the hips. “And if it should ever happen that he gets into the house and is actually attacking Mother, then what?”
    â€œGrab the shotgun and let go with both barrels.”
    â€œRight.” Magnus gave Roddy another quick hug. “Though you wanna be careful and not hit Mother.”
    â€œâ€™Course.”
    â€œYou’ve got to do that now. No matter what. Remember.”
    â€œDon’t worry.”
    Darkness fell as they talked. Soon lamps were blazing on all over town and men walking home were carrying lanterns.
    â€œSon, when it comes to harming women, these bad men will stop at nothing.”
    â€œAre they like road agents, Dad?”
    â€œMore like wild animals.”
    A small fog, creeping in off the Missouri, slowly widened up the Floyd River and then spilled into Perry Creek. As it spread, the fog engulfed lighted windows and lanterns one by one, softening them from sharp sunstone to pale moonstone. The fog held thin and the scattered lamps and lanterns gleamed as if they were gems caught in flung gauze.
    â€œRemember now. Shoot the minute you see your mother in any kind of danger. Even if it’s your father. You hear?”
    The pupils of Roddy’s green eyes widened. Slowly he nodded.
    â€œBecause I always want you to remember that we men have got to protect our mothers. No matter what.”
    â€œIs there a real wild-animal man loose around in town here, Dad?”
    â€œI suspect so.”
    â€œYou know for sure, Dad?”
    Magnus let go of Roddy and stood up. “Suppose I was the wild-animal man molesting your mother, what would you do? Really now.”
    Roddy lifted his racket to his shoulder and aimed it right between Magnus’ eyes. “Boom!”
    â€œGood. Now let’s go in to supper and Mom.”
    But Roddy wasn’t done with it. He shot a look at the pocket where Magnus had put the gun. “Really, Dad, what was you really looking for?”
    â€œCome. Into the house with you.”
    â€œDad?”
    â€œThat wild-animal man.”
    Roddy ran ahead to open the door for his father.
    Magnus stomped his feet on the doormat to let Kitty know he was home.
    â€œNeed cat eyes to see in here,” Roddy said.
    â€œYour mother should have lit the lamp for us.”
    â€œShe was probably too busy, Dad.”
    Magnus dug a match out of his pocket, stroked it alive on the sole of his shoe, and put it to a lamp on a side table. Instantly soft illumination bloomed inside the lamp chimney. Walnut chairs, two bookcases, a black leather sofa, the painted portrait of Uncle George Worthington came to view.
    The surface of Uncle George’s portrait was dry and cracked, and its brown frame had begun to part at the corners. Because of the buckling canvas, one of Uncle George’s dark eyes had begun to look cockeyed like a baffled sportsman. Above the portrait hung the Worthington family coat of arms: barry of white and azure with Frisian stallion rampant on dexter chief.
    Both Magnus and Roddy let their eyes linger on the portrait of Uncle George a moment, then Magnus skimmed his hat onto the hall tree.
    They passed