Read Online Ralph Compton Death Rides a Chestnut Mare by RALPH COMPTON - Free Book Online Page B

supplies and ammunition as their list specified.
    â€œDallas is a right smart of a town,” Tuck said. “If we ride, it’ll have to be bareback, on a couple of the mules.”
    â€œThen let’s ride the mules,” said Danielle.
    Tuck laughed. “We won’t have to worry about robbers. They’ll figure if we had anything worth stealing, we wouldn’t be riding mules without saddles.”
    Eventually they found a gunsmith and, for fifteen dollars, got the springs and various other parts needed to restore all their Colts to working condition. Tuck insisted on paying the gunsmith from the little money his mother had given him.
    â€œYou should have let me pay for that,” Danielle said.
    â€œWe’ll be lucky if you have enough to pay for all the provisions we’re getting at the mercantile,” said Tuck. “It’s still too soon to return to the mercantile. Let’s go into some of the big saloons and see what they’re like.”
    â€œI don’t drink,” Danielle said.
    â€œNeither do I,” said Tuck, “but I may never get to Dallas again, and I’d like to have a look at some of it.”
    They entered a prosperous-looking place called the Four Aces, and it being early in the afternoon, there were few patrons. Five men sat at a table, playing poker. Two women sat on bar stools and eyed the new arrivals with interest.
    â€œLet’s watch the poker game a few minutes,” Tuck said. “Maybe I can sit in for a hand or two. I still have five dollars.”
    â€œTable stakes, dollar limit,” said the house dealer as Tuck and Danielle approached.
    â€œI’ll stand back out of the way and watch,” said Danielle.
    She didn’t approve of Tuck taking part in the game, and she was sure Mrs. Carlyle had not given Tuck her last few dollars for such a purpose. But she said nothing. Tuck hooked the rung of a chair with his boot, pulled it out, and sat down. He lost three pots before he started winning. He seemed to have forgotten Danielle as she stood with her back to the wall, watching the game. To her dismay, one of the painted women approached her.
    â€œHello, cowboy,” drawled the woman. “I’m Viola. While your friend’s at the table, I can show you a good time upstairs. Just twenty-five dollars.”
    â€œNo,” Danielle replied. “I’m not interested.”
    â€œSo you don’t have twenty-five dollars,” said the whore. “How about fifteen?”
    â€œMa’am,” Danielle said coldly, “I wouldn’t have it if it was free. Now leave me the hell alone.”
    Viola slapped Danielle across the face, and Danielle had to grit her teeth to avoid a similar response. A man didn’t strike a woman—not even an insolent saloon whore. It was time to leave the saloon, and Danielle did so, waiting outside on the boardwalk for Tuck. He soon joined her.
    â€œI won fifty dollars,” he said. “What got the saloon woman on the prod?”
    â€œShe wanted to take me upstairs for twenty-five dollars,” said Danielle, “and when I refused, she came down to fifteen dollars. I told her I wouldn’t go upstairs with her if she was free.”
    Tuck laughed. “Sooner or later, you’ll have to get your ashes hauled.”
    â€œMy what? ”
    â€œOh, hell,” said Tuck, “you know . Get with a woman.”
    â€œThere’s no time or money for that,” Danielle said, “even if I was so inclined. I reckon you’ve already been there, have you?”
    â€œNo,” said Tuck sheepishly, “but I did look through a window once, watching Carrie taking a bath in a washtub.”
    Danielle laughed. “I don’t think that counts. A man shouldn’t do that to his sister.”
    â€œDamn it,” said Tuck, “there’s not a female within riding distance of our place, except Katrina Chadman.”
    â€œShe’s