Read Online Range Ghost by Bradford Scott - Free Book Online Page B

their bellies.
    Getting the beefs moving in the right direction was no chore for a cowhand of El Halcon’s ability. Soon the disgusted critters were trudging west, voicing their protest against such outlandish treatment from time to time.
    Dawn was pulsing scarlet and gold in the east when he sighted the ranchhouse. Everybody was still asleep, but hammering on the front door soon brought old Keith thumping barefoot down the stairs to open it with a profane inquiry as to who was disturbing his rest.
    His irritation quickly changed to a welcome greeting when he recognized his untimely guest. Slade indicated his four-footed charges, who were continuing their interrupted meal, and explained how he came to have them in tow. Old Keith proceeded to do some really fancy swearing.
    “And you did for two of the sidewinders, you say?” he concluded. “Good! Good! Shut the door and sit down; I’ll rustle some coffee and a snack. Pedro will be up any minute now and he’ll lend a hand. I’ll care for your horse. Sit down, here comes Jerry; guess she heard me call your name and had to take time to make herself beautiful before showing up.”
    Glancing at her tripping down the stairs in a clinging silken robe, Slade felt if that was the reason for her delay, she had succeeded admirably, even though her curly hair was touseled enough to refute her uncle’s deduction.
    “Why should I take time to comb it?” she replied to Slade’s jocular comment. “Haven’t you seen—say! What have you been into now? There’s a hole in your shirt sleeve, your hat is all beat up, and there’s dried blood on your forehead!”
    The story was repeated, briefly, for her benefit. She shuddered, and said, “Always something nobody else would think of! I heard you knock and knew it could be nobody else showing up at this outlandish hour. Well, I’m glad you made it here so soon. I’ll give Uncle Keith a hand in the kitchen.”
    “I’ll send somebody to tell Fletcher to come and get his stock,” Norman called. “Reckon he’ll be sorta surprised.”
    “And have somebody notify the sheriff,” Slade replied. “He’ll want to pick up the bodies.”
    “Sure for certain,” old Keith promised.
    Without too much difficulty, Slade put away the coffee and the sumptuous snack, after which old Keith said, “And now to bed with you, pronto; you must be tuckered.”
    “Do feel a mite weary,” Slade admitted. “Was quite a night.”
    In the comfortable bed he had occupied before, he slept soundly until shortly after noon. When he descended to the living room, he found Jerry awaiting him.
    “Your breakfast will be ready soon,” she said. “Don’t talk till you’ve had your coffee. All men are grouchy till they’ve had their morning coffee.”
    “Yes?”
    “Well, so I’ve been told,” she giggled, and whisked out to the kitchen.
    It was late afternoon when John Fletcher arrived with a couple of hands to claim his stock. He thanked Slade profusely and expressed gratification at the downing of the two rustlers.
    “All you have to do is stick around for a spell and everything will be taken care of,” he declared. “Sure we’ll spend the night, Keith; don’t feel up to night drive with those critters.”
    Still later, Sheriff Carter showed up, accompanied by a deputy and a couple of mules bearing the bodies of the two wideloopers, which were placed in the barn for safe keeping till the next day.
    “House going to be plumb filled up tonight,” Norman chuckled. “Fine! I like company, and we got plenty of room, and I expect I can rustle a bottle or two. I figure a little celebrating is in order.”
    “If things are too crowded, I’ll sleep under a tree,” Slade told Jerry, who made a face at him.
    “You and your hunches!” the sheriff snorted afterreceiving the details of what happened. “Well, they always seem to pay off.”
    “He calls them hunches, but they’re really just the result of a passel of careful thinking out,”