Read Online Midnight Rider (Ralph Cotton Western Series) by Ralph Cotton - Free Book Online
Authors: Ralph Cotton
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strike at the back of the Giant’s neck.
“Holy
God
!” shouted Casings, seeing Rochenbach’s bullet snap the big rattler’s head off in a bloody mist.
The snake’s thick body flew up from the side of the wash, spun whipping in the air and landed limply over the Giant’s right shoulder just as the Giant had started to draw his holstered Colt.
Seeing the snake suddenly dangling down his chest, the Giant screamed shrilly in spite of his usually deep, powerful voice. Instead of snatching the dead snake and tossing it away, the Giant lost all control of himself and jumped up and down on his tiptoes, screaming, his big hands flopping uselessly beside him.
“Jesus,
run, Giant
!” shouted Casings, seeing three more snakes spill down from their disturbed resting place among the cluster of rocks.
In his hysteria, the Giant caught a glimpse of one of the snakes slithering past his feet. He ran screaming in a wide circle, the dead snake flying from his shoulder as he plowed through the already spooked horses. The bloody bull rattler landed atop one horse, sending it into a wild kicking, whinnying fit.
“We need to stop him,” Rock said quietly, watching in rapt fascination.
“Not me,” said Casings, knowing what a job it would be wrestling the big man to the ground and holding him there.
The Giant, still screaming out of control, ran smack into another horse. His massive body knocked theanimal to the ground as he bounced back from it, right into the kicking hooves of the horse with the dead snake flopping up and down in its saddle. A wild kick gave the Giant a glancing blow to his head and sent him staggering in a zigzagging line for a few feet while his thick legs seemed to slowly melt beneath him.
“Well, there’s that,” said Casings as the Giant slammed the ground with the same powerful thud as the boulder he’d thrown down in a show of strength.
Shots rang out as the other men hurried and killed the other awakened rattlers.
“Yes,” said Rochenbach, “there’s that.”
He stepped forward and looked down at the Giant lying knocked cold in the dirt.
“He had to show off for everybody, lift that big rock,” said Casings, stepping up beside him.
Rochenbach only nodded, wondering if this would soften the Giant’s attitude toward him.
Chapter 7
A half hour later, the Giant sat on the same rock, this time facing a fire Bonham and Batts built so he could dry the crotch on his wet trousers. He sat in his long-john underwear and stockinged feet, his knees opened wide toward the fire, shivering even with a wool blanket clutched around him. His trousers hung on a stick stuck in the ground, and his enormous boots stood drying on the ground beside his trousers.
“God, I hate sna-snakes,” he said, his deep, powerful voice broken and trembling. “Ever since I was a ki-kid,” he added painfully. Blood ran down the side of his head.
“Lots of people hate snakes, Giant,” said Casings, trying to help him calm down. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
The Giant tried to settle down and breathe deep.
“Pres is right, Stillwater,” said Bonham. “Jesus, a big ol’ rattler like that. One bite and he would have filled you so full of poison—”
“Why don’t you pour yourself a hot cup of coffee, Lon?” Casings said to cut him off.
The Giant started shaking all over again.
“I was just saying,” explained Bonham, “a big bull like that. What if he’d fallen down your shirt before Rock got a shot at him?”
“Jesus, shut up!” Casings snapped. “The man hates snakes! Can you give it a rest?”
“He—he’s right,” the Giant said, shaking again. “The law dog sa-saved my life.” He looked all around the dry wash. “Where is he anyway?”
“I’m right here, Giant,” said Rochenbach. He stepped over from among the settled horses, a wet cloth in his hand. “But my name’s not law dog,” he corrected the Giant. He pressed the wet cloth to the Giant’s hoof-grazed head and
“Holy
God
!” shouted Casings, seeing Rochenbach’s bullet snap the big rattler’s head off in a bloody mist.
The snake’s thick body flew up from the side of the wash, spun whipping in the air and landed limply over the Giant’s right shoulder just as the Giant had started to draw his holstered Colt.
Seeing the snake suddenly dangling down his chest, the Giant screamed shrilly in spite of his usually deep, powerful voice. Instead of snatching the dead snake and tossing it away, the Giant lost all control of himself and jumped up and down on his tiptoes, screaming, his big hands flopping uselessly beside him.
“Jesus,
run, Giant
!” shouted Casings, seeing three more snakes spill down from their disturbed resting place among the cluster of rocks.
In his hysteria, the Giant caught a glimpse of one of the snakes slithering past his feet. He ran screaming in a wide circle, the dead snake flying from his shoulder as he plowed through the already spooked horses. The bloody bull rattler landed atop one horse, sending it into a wild kicking, whinnying fit.
“We need to stop him,” Rock said quietly, watching in rapt fascination.
“Not me,” said Casings, knowing what a job it would be wrestling the big man to the ground and holding him there.
The Giant, still screaming out of control, ran smack into another horse. His massive body knocked theanimal to the ground as he bounced back from it, right into the kicking hooves of the horse with the dead snake flopping up and down in its saddle. A wild kick gave the Giant a glancing blow to his head and sent him staggering in a zigzagging line for a few feet while his thick legs seemed to slowly melt beneath him.
“Well, there’s that,” said Casings as the Giant slammed the ground with the same powerful thud as the boulder he’d thrown down in a show of strength.
Shots rang out as the other men hurried and killed the other awakened rattlers.
“Yes,” said Rochenbach, “there’s that.”
He stepped forward and looked down at the Giant lying knocked cold in the dirt.
“He had to show off for everybody, lift that big rock,” said Casings, stepping up beside him.
Rochenbach only nodded, wondering if this would soften the Giant’s attitude toward him.
Chapter 7
A half hour later, the Giant sat on the same rock, this time facing a fire Bonham and Batts built so he could dry the crotch on his wet trousers. He sat in his long-john underwear and stockinged feet, his knees opened wide toward the fire, shivering even with a wool blanket clutched around him. His trousers hung on a stick stuck in the ground, and his enormous boots stood drying on the ground beside his trousers.
“God, I hate sna-snakes,” he said, his deep, powerful voice broken and trembling. “Ever since I was a ki-kid,” he added painfully. Blood ran down the side of his head.
“Lots of people hate snakes, Giant,” said Casings, trying to help him calm down. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
The Giant tried to settle down and breathe deep.
“Pres is right, Stillwater,” said Bonham. “Jesus, a big ol’ rattler like that. One bite and he would have filled you so full of poison—”
“Why don’t you pour yourself a hot cup of coffee, Lon?” Casings said to cut him off.
The Giant started shaking all over again.
“I was just saying,” explained Bonham, “a big bull like that. What if he’d fallen down your shirt before Rock got a shot at him?”
“Jesus, shut up!” Casings snapped. “The man hates snakes! Can you give it a rest?”
“He—he’s right,” the Giant said, shaking again. “The law dog sa-saved my life.” He looked all around the dry wash. “Where is he anyway?”
“I’m right here, Giant,” said Rochenbach. He stepped over from among the settled horses, a wet cloth in his hand. “But my name’s not law dog,” he corrected the Giant. He pressed the wet cloth to the Giant’s hoof-grazed head and
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