Read Online Novel 1966 - Kilrone (v5.0) by Louis L’Amour - Free Book Online
Authors: Louis L’Amour
Tags: Amazon.com
Ads: Link
he grumbled to be in tune, and let no one know just how he felt.
It was too quiet here, Kilrone was thinking. He could feel trouble coming, for its breath has a way of being felt in the air, and he could feel it now. Whether Iron Dave Sproul was to blame or not, that must wait. First there would come the fight, a good fight, too, if they were to last it out.
How many warriors would come? Two hundred at least, he was sure, and more likely a thousand. And at the post were fourteen or fifteen men and some women, too small a party by far to defend the place, even to defend themselves, despite the fact that there was food enough and ammunition enough.
Suppose he went to Hog Town now? Suppose now, before the fight could begin, he went to see Iron Dave and smashed him down? Or even killed him?
It would change nothing. Whatever influence Sproul had among the Indians would not reach to even one squaw, once the battle was joined. He could not stop them then even if he wanted to, and it was not likely that he wanted to.
What was it the man wanted? There was no one out here who mattered to him unless it was Kilrone himself; and Sproul had not even known Kilrone was in this part of the country, or that Kilrone had been tracking him down, following him from place to place, learning a little here, a bit more there.
Whatever it was he wanted, he needed an Indian war to bring it about.
Chapter 7
----
B ARNEY KILRONE WALKED back to Paddock’s quarters. Denise had the door open, and a carpetbag was sitting on the step. “May I help?” he asked.
“Would you?” She brought some blankets to the door and handed them to him. “You think Frank was wrong, don’t you?”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t have gone, Denise, but I might have been wrong, very wrong. Frank was the one who had the decision to make and he made it. We can only wait and see what happens.”
Taking the blankets, Denise’s rifle, and the carpetbag, he walked beside her to the Headquarters building.
“This is a long way from Paris,” he commented. “Do you miss it?”
“Occasionally. I would be lying if I did not admit it, but I do not miss it nearly so often as one would believe. It is beautiful here…I love to ride, and I have books to read. Betty is a great help. She’s remarkable in so many ways.”
She looked to the hills. “And the hills are the best of it all, I think. Frank hates the post. I believe he hates it most because he thinks I do. As a matter of fact, I love those mountains; they’re so restful, so…enduring, and timeless.”
Stella Rybolt was waiting for them inside the door. “Well, you made it!” she said cheerfully to Denise. “I was just coming down to lend a hand.”
“Stella Rybolt, this is Barnes Kilrone. It used to be Captain Barnes Kilrone.”
“How do you do, Captain? Oh, I remember you! We never met, but there were stories, Captain, there were stories! And such stories!”
“Better forget the ‘captain’,” Kilrone suggested. “That was several years ago. I’m a civilian now.”
“I wish Gus was here. You were a favorite of his. He liked the way you took after that Indian agent back down the line. Said we needed more officers like you.”
“And I’m no longer in the army because of it,” he commented dryly. “I’ll admit nobody forced me to resign, but there were things I wanted to do that I could not do while in uniform. So I resigned and did them.”
“I know.” Stella Rybolt gestured toward the potbellied stove. “Look, I’ve made some coffee. Let’s sit down and talk a little. It’s no use sitting around with long faces.”
Kilrone shifted his feet. “Later. I have a few things to do.”
As he stepped outside, one of the farriers walked up to him. “Kilrone? I’m McCracken. Sergeant Ryerson said you’d be acting in command.”
“McCracken, I’m going to put you and your partner, Dawson, in the warehouse. Webster will be with you. I don’t need to tell you that those
It was too quiet here, Kilrone was thinking. He could feel trouble coming, for its breath has a way of being felt in the air, and he could feel it now. Whether Iron Dave Sproul was to blame or not, that must wait. First there would come the fight, a good fight, too, if they were to last it out.
How many warriors would come? Two hundred at least, he was sure, and more likely a thousand. And at the post were fourteen or fifteen men and some women, too small a party by far to defend the place, even to defend themselves, despite the fact that there was food enough and ammunition enough.
Suppose he went to Hog Town now? Suppose now, before the fight could begin, he went to see Iron Dave and smashed him down? Or even killed him?
It would change nothing. Whatever influence Sproul had among the Indians would not reach to even one squaw, once the battle was joined. He could not stop them then even if he wanted to, and it was not likely that he wanted to.
What was it the man wanted? There was no one out here who mattered to him unless it was Kilrone himself; and Sproul had not even known Kilrone was in this part of the country, or that Kilrone had been tracking him down, following him from place to place, learning a little here, a bit more there.
Whatever it was he wanted, he needed an Indian war to bring it about.
Chapter 7
----
B ARNEY KILRONE WALKED back to Paddock’s quarters. Denise had the door open, and a carpetbag was sitting on the step. “May I help?” he asked.
“Would you?” She brought some blankets to the door and handed them to him. “You think Frank was wrong, don’t you?”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t have gone, Denise, but I might have been wrong, very wrong. Frank was the one who had the decision to make and he made it. We can only wait and see what happens.”
Taking the blankets, Denise’s rifle, and the carpetbag, he walked beside her to the Headquarters building.
“This is a long way from Paris,” he commented. “Do you miss it?”
“Occasionally. I would be lying if I did not admit it, but I do not miss it nearly so often as one would believe. It is beautiful here…I love to ride, and I have books to read. Betty is a great help. She’s remarkable in so many ways.”
She looked to the hills. “And the hills are the best of it all, I think. Frank hates the post. I believe he hates it most because he thinks I do. As a matter of fact, I love those mountains; they’re so restful, so…enduring, and timeless.”
Stella Rybolt was waiting for them inside the door. “Well, you made it!” she said cheerfully to Denise. “I was just coming down to lend a hand.”
“Stella Rybolt, this is Barnes Kilrone. It used to be Captain Barnes Kilrone.”
“How do you do, Captain? Oh, I remember you! We never met, but there were stories, Captain, there were stories! And such stories!”
“Better forget the ‘captain’,” Kilrone suggested. “That was several years ago. I’m a civilian now.”
“I wish Gus was here. You were a favorite of his. He liked the way you took after that Indian agent back down the line. Said we needed more officers like you.”
“And I’m no longer in the army because of it,” he commented dryly. “I’ll admit nobody forced me to resign, but there were things I wanted to do that I could not do while in uniform. So I resigned and did them.”
“I know.” Stella Rybolt gestured toward the potbellied stove. “Look, I’ve made some coffee. Let’s sit down and talk a little. It’s no use sitting around with long faces.”
Kilrone shifted his feet. “Later. I have a few things to do.”
As he stepped outside, one of the farriers walked up to him. “Kilrone? I’m McCracken. Sergeant Ryerson said you’d be acting in command.”
“McCracken, I’m going to put you and your partner, Dawson, in the warehouse. Webster will be with you. I don’t need to tell you that those
Similar Books
