Read Online Riding for the Brand (Ss) (1986) by Louis L'amour - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Louis L'amour
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the table, upsetting it and causing Bilton to spring back to keep his balance, and at the same instant, Ring dropped to a half crouch and turning left he drew with a flash of speed and saw Brule's gun come up at almost the same instant, and then he fired!
Stan Brule was caught with his gun just level, and the bullet smashed him on the jaw. The tall man staggered, his face a mask of hatred and astonishment mingled, and then Ring fired again, doing a quick spring around with his knees bent, turning completely around in one leap, and firing as his feet hit the floor. He felt Hagen's bullet smash into him, and he tottered. Then he fired coolly, and swinging as he fired, he caught Bilton right over the belt buckle.
It was fast action, snapping, quick, yet deliberate.
The four fired shots had taken less than three seconds.
Stepping back, he scooped the tally book from the floor where it had dropped and then pocketed it. Bilton was on the floor, coughing blood.
Hagen had a broken right arm and was swearing in a thick, stunned voice.
Stan Brule had drawn his last gun.
He had been dead before he hit the floor. The Hazlitts started forward with a lunge, and Allen Ring took another step backward, dropping his pistol and swinging the shotgun, still hanging from his shoulder, into firing position.
"Get back"... He said thickly. "Get back or I'll kill the three of you! Back, back to where you stood!"
Their faces wolfish, the three stood lean and dangerous, yet the shotgun brooked no refusal, and slowly, bitterly and reluctantly, the three moved back, step by step.
Ring motioned with the shotgun. "All of you along the wall!"
The men rose and moved back, their eyes on him, uncertain, wary, some of them frightened.
Allen Ring watched them go, feeling curiously light-headed and uncertain. He tried to frown away the pain from his throbbing skull, yet there was a pervading weakness from somewhere else.
"My gosh"... Roily Truman said. "The man's been shot! He's bleeding!"
"Get back"... Ring said thickly.
His eyes shifted to the glowing potbellied stove, and he moved forward, the shotgun waist high, his eyes on the men who stared at him, awed.
The sling held the gun level, his hand partly supporting it, a finger on the trigger. With his left hand he opened the stove and then fumbled in his pocket.
Buck Hazlitt's eyes bulged. "No"... He roared.
"No, you don't!"
He lunged forward, and Ring tipped the shotgun and fired a blast into the floor, inches ahead of Hazlitt's feet. The rancher stopped so suddenly he almost fell, and the shotgun tipped to cover him.
"Back"... Ring said. He swayed on his feet.
"Back"... He fished out the tally book and threw it into the flames.
Something like a sigh went through the crowd.
They stared, awed as the flames seized hungrily at the opened book, curling around the leaves with hot fingers, turning them brown and then black and to ashes.
Half hypnotized the crowd watched. Then Ring's eyes swung to Hazlitt. "It was Ben Taylor killed him"... He muttered. "Taylor, an Bilton was with him. He seen it."
"We take your word for it?" Buck Hazlitt demanded furiously.
Allen Ring's eyes widened and he seemed to gather himself. "You want to question it? You want to call me a liar?"
Hazlitt looked at him, touching his tongue to his lips. "No"... He said. "I figured it was them."
"I told you true"... Ring said, and then his legs seemed to fold up under him and he went to the floor.
The crowd surged forward and Roily Truman stared at Buck as Hazlitt neared the stove. The big man stared into the flames for a minute.
Then he closed the door.
"Good"... He said. "Good thing! It's been a torment, that book, like a cloud hangin' over us all!"
The sun was shining through the window when Gail Truman came to see him. He was sitting up in bed and feeling better. It would be good to be back on the place again, for there was much to do. She came in, slapping her boots with her quirt and smiling.
"Feel better?" She
Stan Brule was caught with his gun just level, and the bullet smashed him on the jaw. The tall man staggered, his face a mask of hatred and astonishment mingled, and then Ring fired again, doing a quick spring around with his knees bent, turning completely around in one leap, and firing as his feet hit the floor. He felt Hagen's bullet smash into him, and he tottered. Then he fired coolly, and swinging as he fired, he caught Bilton right over the belt buckle.
It was fast action, snapping, quick, yet deliberate.
The four fired shots had taken less than three seconds.
Stepping back, he scooped the tally book from the floor where it had dropped and then pocketed it. Bilton was on the floor, coughing blood.
Hagen had a broken right arm and was swearing in a thick, stunned voice.
Stan Brule had drawn his last gun.
He had been dead before he hit the floor. The Hazlitts started forward with a lunge, and Allen Ring took another step backward, dropping his pistol and swinging the shotgun, still hanging from his shoulder, into firing position.
"Get back"... He said thickly. "Get back or I'll kill the three of you! Back, back to where you stood!"
Their faces wolfish, the three stood lean and dangerous, yet the shotgun brooked no refusal, and slowly, bitterly and reluctantly, the three moved back, step by step.
Ring motioned with the shotgun. "All of you along the wall!"
The men rose and moved back, their eyes on him, uncertain, wary, some of them frightened.
Allen Ring watched them go, feeling curiously light-headed and uncertain. He tried to frown away the pain from his throbbing skull, yet there was a pervading weakness from somewhere else.
"My gosh"... Roily Truman said. "The man's been shot! He's bleeding!"
"Get back"... Ring said thickly.
His eyes shifted to the glowing potbellied stove, and he moved forward, the shotgun waist high, his eyes on the men who stared at him, awed.
The sling held the gun level, his hand partly supporting it, a finger on the trigger. With his left hand he opened the stove and then fumbled in his pocket.
Buck Hazlitt's eyes bulged. "No"... He roared.
"No, you don't!"
He lunged forward, and Ring tipped the shotgun and fired a blast into the floor, inches ahead of Hazlitt's feet. The rancher stopped so suddenly he almost fell, and the shotgun tipped to cover him.
"Back"... Ring said. He swayed on his feet.
"Back"... He fished out the tally book and threw it into the flames.
Something like a sigh went through the crowd.
They stared, awed as the flames seized hungrily at the opened book, curling around the leaves with hot fingers, turning them brown and then black and to ashes.
Half hypnotized the crowd watched. Then Ring's eyes swung to Hazlitt. "It was Ben Taylor killed him"... He muttered. "Taylor, an Bilton was with him. He seen it."
"We take your word for it?" Buck Hazlitt demanded furiously.
Allen Ring's eyes widened and he seemed to gather himself. "You want to question it? You want to call me a liar?"
Hazlitt looked at him, touching his tongue to his lips. "No"... He said. "I figured it was them."
"I told you true"... Ring said, and then his legs seemed to fold up under him and he went to the floor.
The crowd surged forward and Roily Truman stared at Buck as Hazlitt neared the stove. The big man stared into the flames for a minute.
Then he closed the door.
"Good"... He said. "Good thing! It's been a torment, that book, like a cloud hangin' over us all!"
The sun was shining through the window when Gail Truman came to see him. He was sitting up in bed and feeling better. It would be good to be back on the place again, for there was much to do. She came in, slapping her boots with her quirt and smiling.
"Feel better?" She
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