Read Online Silvertip's Roundup by Max Brand - Free Book Online Page A

hair. It stood up high and wild, as though a wind had struck it. A passion of expectant delight was surging in him, making his body quiver. Pokey, crouched over his shotgun, made a sound every time he drew in a breath.
    Then a pair of great, hairy hands were passed under the pits of the arms of Taxi. They swayed up and joined behind his head.
    â€œFast or slow?” asked the voice of Babe, at the rear of Taxi.
    â€œWhy — slow, I should say,” answered Christian.
    â€œAll right,” said Babe.
    He put on pressure. The force of the leverage of the full nelson dragged Taxi’s head down. He was strong enough in the neck. “A man that ain’t got a tough neck can’t take a tough punch,” Paddy was always saying. But, though he resisted, he could not prevent the irresistible pressure on the back of his head.
    â€œWell, Taxi?” asked Christian.
    â€œNo!” said Taxi.
    He could see only the floor. He felt that his spinal column would snap in an instant. Red-hot shooting pains thrust up the back of his neck and into his brain. There were dull explosions in his ears.
    â€œTough, ain’t he?” said the admiring voice of Babe. “Real tough. So tough that I’d like to try my hand at softening him up a little. What say, chief?”
    â€œSoften him up? Do you think that you could soften him up, Babe?” asked Christian.
    Some of the frightful strain was taken off the head of Taxi. He became aware that he was breathing for the first time in many seconds. The breathing hurt his lungs.
    â€œYeah, and
I’ll
soften him, too!” yelled Pokey suddenly.
    â€œShut up, Pokey,” urged Babe. “Look at, chief. I ain’t had a hand in for a long time. That back room is made to order. I’ll soften him up. It’ll be a cinch. I’ll soften him up so’s he’ll talk his heart right out, in a day or two.”
    â€œThere’s a chance that Jim Silver will find his trail,” said Christian. “There’s a chance that we’d better be leaving this house now.”
    â€œIf Silver comes — look,” said Babe. “Is there anything better than that? We’re ready for him, and he comes. He’s bound to come some day, ain’t he? And can he come when we’re any better ready for him than we are now?”
    â€œIn your own simple, honest way,” said Christian, “you have ability to go straight to the point, Babe. I have an idea that you may be right. And — do you think you’d really enjoy yourself with Taxi?”
    â€œEnjoy myself?” said Babe. “Say, when have I had my hand in? When have I had it in for a year, pretty near?”
    â€œTrue,” said Christian gently. “And hunting dogs should be fed plenty of red meat.”
    â€œYeah, lemme have him,” said Babe. “I’ll spread him out thin and make him last.”
    â€œWhy, have it your own way, Babe,” said Christian.
    â€œHi!” grunted Babe, delighted.
    He took his hands from the head of Taxi. But he let his grasp fall on one of Taxi’s shoulders, the big, blunt fingers feeling through the flesh toward the bone with a bruising and yet a merely exploratory force.
    â€œHe’s the right sort, this bird. He’s fleshed up right,” said Babe.
    Christian raised one finger.
    â€œMind you, Babe,” said he, “if Taxi should by any chance get away, nothing will help you.”
    â€œGet away?” shouted Babe, filling his throat with laughter. “Why, after I’ve had him for a coupla hours, he won’t be able to walk!”
    â€œWell, well, well,” murmured Christian. “Do as you please. And when you think that you’ve softened him enough, you can call me, and I’ll have a look at him.”
    â€œIt won’t be long,” said Babe. “I know a coupla things, chief.”
    He lifted Taxi to his feet and took him with a prodigious hand by the nape