Read Online McAllister Rides by Matt Chisholm - Free Book Online Page B

backs to the wall and watched patiently. When the old man demanded anything they both sprang up ready toserve. When this happened once Islop cackled with appreciation.
    â€œTrained ’em with a stick,” he told McAllister. “First off they thought I was soft being white, but they purty soon knew different. We get along fine now. You got a present, a geegaw or somethin’ in that pack o’ yourn? Any little thing’re make ’em happy.”
    â€œSure,” said McAllister, “I’ll find ’em something when we’re through eating.”
    It was some time when they were through eating. In that time McAllister consumed the largest buffalo steak he had ever eaten. He would have liked to wash it down with coffee, but the old man didn’t possess any. Instead there was some more of the unnamed liquor Which McAllister was better able to take now that his belly was full. They spoke little during the eating, but outside again they lit their pipes and talked. But first, McAllister made his presents to the ladies. He had a stock of necklaces with him, all made of cheap glass, but the two Indian women received them with squeals of delight. Now they were all smiles and they chattered like magpies. Islop drove them away.
    â€œNow, son,” he said, settling the jug by his side, “this captive. You put me in a spot.”
    â€œHow come?”
    â€œThe Comanch’ trust me. That’s why they let me stay. I mind my business and they mind theirs. Now an’ again I doctor their sick and wounded. I married a couple of their women. I got connections. The young woman there, she’s Iron Hand’s daughter. You know that?” McAllister didn’t know it.
    â€œMr. Islop, I ain’t asking you to break no trust. All I want to know is where Mrs. Bourn’s at. That ain’t asking a lot”
    The old man ran his fingers through his beard.
    â€œIt is if the Comanch’ don’t want you to know.”
    â€œWhy shouldn’t they want me to know? All I want to do is a straight trade. Just find out which band Mrs. Bourn is with. Leave the rest to me.”
    The old man glared at him.
    â€œJust like your daddy. Plumb crazy. Never weigh the consequences. That’s why Chad’s kickin’ up the daisies and I’mstill around. Allus rushin’ in. This is delicate, son. You don’t know how delicate.”
    â€œWhat’s delicate about it? Hell, Mr. Islop, they have Mrs. Bourn. All I want to know is the name of the man I have to dicker with and what band he’s with.”
    â€œThat’s what I’m tryin’ to tell you, boy. On’y you keep a-gabbin’. She’s Iron Hand’s woman.”
    McAllister went very still. He felt a little sick. This knocked the bottom out of his plans.
    â€œWhat do you mean, she’s his woman? You mean she’s totin’ wood and sech for him? Or –?”
    â€œOr, son. He’s taken a real shine to her has the old man. Now, it’d be hard enough you ridin’ in here after a captive on your lonesome. You likely be killed. There’s regular ways of doin’ sech things, like goin’ through the Comancheros. The Indians don’t take kindly to strangers jest a-ridin’ in like you done. No, sir. Now, you find the woman you want belongs to Iron Hand. But that ain’t all.”
    McAllister asked: “Is there something more for Gawd’s sake?”
    â€œI reckon. What kind of a chance do you think you’ll have with the Texas Rangers up on the rim?”
    McAllister was flabbergasted. He gaped at the old man, the wind taken right out of his sails.
    â€œYou know they’re up there?” he asked foolishly.
    â€œKnow? Hell, the Indians of knowed for days. You might say they watched ’em all the way from Texas.”
    McAllister was on his feet.
    â€œThen what’re we sitting here for?” he cried. “We have to warn