Read Online McAllister by Matt Chisholm - Free Book Online

left.”
    Franchon turned his back on Clover and walked away to the rim of the circle of light. He sat down with his back against an aspen tree, tilted his hat over his eyes and apparently fell asleep. He didn’t move when a rider headed into camp and told Clover: “Jed, they burned one of their wagons.”
    Clover rose and walked over to Franchon, prodding with his toe. Franchon said without moving: “Don’t do that.”
    â€œMcAllister’s burned a wagon. That’ll be Carmody’s. He’s on to us.”
    Franchon’s voice from under the hat said: “Is that all you woke me up to tell me?”
    â€œYou running out gave him the warning,” Clover accused.
    The gunman pushed his hat back and raised his pale eyes to the man standing over him.
    â€œLook, quit worrying. I’m going to kill this McAllister. I’ll blow his brains out if it’s the last thing I do.”
    Looking at him, Clover knew he meant it.
    The outlaw walked back to the fire, calling a couple of his men to him as he went. They squatted on their hunkers and accepted chews from him.
    â€œHere’s what you do first light in the morning …” he began.

9
    The Three wagons rolled slowly across the arid sun-blasted land that was so hard now they were heading into the
malpais
that they scarcely raised dust. The neat feet of the mules clattered on the bare rock and now and then horses and wagons slid precariously. The mule-skinners drove cautiously and all their attention was on the road. Every man knew they were taking a gamble carrying straight on due west and that it might have been wiser to have lost them a day. Their water would not last for ever and their line of march was controlled by the amount of water they could carry. Four teams of mules and the saddle-stock needed a frightening amount of the liquid.
    Mcallister drove the lead wagon with Young riding ahead with the Navajo flanking him. The lieutenant brought up the rear with a trooper with another flanking him. The two prisoners were in the second wagon, tied tightly together. Carmody’s man had sworn to kill somebody for tying him to a stinking Apache, but it was generally agreed that it was an excellent idea to put them both together. With luck the Indian might kill the whiteman and if the Indian tried to escape, the whiteman would pay for his keep by raising the alarm.
    Mrs. Bankroft, without being invited, placed herself on the wagon beside Mcallister who, strangely enough, made no complaint at her presumption. She was very quiet, but he found her presence a strange pleasure to him. Every now and then, he pointed something out to her in the desert he knew so well and she would nod and thank him for the information with a quaint formality. At the mid-day halt, she redressedhis wound and told him that it was looking very well and she didn’t think it would go bad now if he was sure to keep it clean. At the halt, she made coffee and took some to the two prisoners whom she offered the cup to impartially.
    The
malpais
which they had sighted two hours out from the ranch and had slowly marched on all day, they reached in the middle of the afternoon when the sun was getting a little more than any of them could stand. When they reached the great slabs of volcanic rock, they found that it could grow worse. Here they entered what they considered to be a hell on earth. Lieutenant von Tannenberg was seeing it for the first time, for he had taken the southern route from the Fort as passable for horses, but not for wagons. This was a short cut, for the freak road through this terrible country might be as hot as the nether regions, but it was comparatively smooth. This would save them that precious day that their water demanded.
    Neither Mcallister or von Tannenberg had any doubts that if an attack was to be made upon them it would come in the next three miles, for there was scarcely a foot of the way that did not offer good cover for