Read Online The Bullwhip Breed by J. T. Edson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: J. T. Edson
Tags: Western
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felt no desire to spoil her friends’ evening so early on. Catching the attention of a passing waiter, she ordered drinks for the table and it was taken as a peace-offering by the other girls.
After a few more leg kicks, the dancers came to a halt in a bent forward posture that flipped up their skirts, exposed frilly-edged, short-legged panties to view and caused Killem to make a hurried grab which hauled one of the over-stimulated freighters back into his seat. With a bound, the red-haired solo performer sailed into the air and landed on the floor in a split which brought a gasp from Calamity. However, the girl bounced to her feet without any sign of injury, dropped a graceful curtsy in reply to the applause which rose high, and skipped off the dancing space, between the tables and out through a door at the side of the bar.
“Where at’s the gambling?” asked Calamity as the applause died down.
“Upstairs,” answered one of the girls, hoping Calamity would go, for she did not feel entirely happy at having the red-head at the table.
“Hah!” grunted Tombes. “You don’t want no gambling, Calam gal. It air plumb sinful—and awful chancy too.”
Listening to Tombes’ sombre tones, Calamity might have taken the warning seriously had she not known him so well. On the way down river a well-dressed stranger inveigled Tombes and Killern into a game of poker. While neither gave any sign of their wisdom, both possessed a very thorough knowledge of all branches of the gambling business. On the fourth deal Killem objected to the dealer extracting for the improvement of a hand the seven of clubs from the bottom of the deck. Killem was ‘dressed’ at the time, and possessed a fair amount of skill in the speedy production of a weapon—leaning to his sheathed bowie knife on that occasion—and so was in a good position to make his point. A series of gambling scandals had recently rocked the Mississippi, causing the riverboat captains to be less tolerant of crooked gamblers than had formerly been the case. So the errant well-dressed stranger found himself penniless and standing on a sand bar, leaving Killem’s outfit to share out eighteen hundred dollars of his money. In addition to their pay from a freighting trip to Fort Sherrard in the Dakota Territory, an advance of wages and expense money donated by the Army, the gambler’s contribution ensured that the Killem bunch were well fixed to enjoy their visit to New Orleans.
Calamity decided to forego her investigation of the Cheval D’Or’s games of chance and sat back in her chair to see how the saloon compared with a Western place in the matter of entertainment. After a brief rest, the band struck up with a lively tune and the saloon-girls led most of the men out on to the open space. Never one for dancing, except when toting more ‘Old Whipping Pust’ whisky than at present, Tombes remained at the table with calamity. Taking her opportunity, Calamity told the leathery-faced scout of the incident in the Park, also about the suggestion she made utilising his knowledge of the ancient and honourable art of reading sign Western style.
“We’ll take usa look whether he likes it or not, comes morning,” Tombes stated when Calamity remarked that the final decision must come from one Lieutenant Caiman who she had not yet met. “Damn it, gal, I’d sure like to lay hands on that there Strangler.”
“And me,” Calamity answered, then her eyes swung from Tombes to gaze across the room with all the intent eagerness of a starving Cheyenne seeing a herd of prime Great Plains buffalo. “Say, who’s that big gal there?”
Following the direction of Calamity’s gaze and jerked thumb, Tombes studied the woman who so aroused his companion’s interest. Big was no exaggeration when describing the woman. She stood nearly six foot tall and weighed at least two hundred pounds. Blonde hair piled high on the woman’s head and her fat, jovial face carried stage make-up.
After a few more leg kicks, the dancers came to a halt in a bent forward posture that flipped up their skirts, exposed frilly-edged, short-legged panties to view and caused Killem to make a hurried grab which hauled one of the over-stimulated freighters back into his seat. With a bound, the red-haired solo performer sailed into the air and landed on the floor in a split which brought a gasp from Calamity. However, the girl bounced to her feet without any sign of injury, dropped a graceful curtsy in reply to the applause which rose high, and skipped off the dancing space, between the tables and out through a door at the side of the bar.
“Where at’s the gambling?” asked Calamity as the applause died down.
“Upstairs,” answered one of the girls, hoping Calamity would go, for she did not feel entirely happy at having the red-head at the table.
“Hah!” grunted Tombes. “You don’t want no gambling, Calam gal. It air plumb sinful—and awful chancy too.”
Listening to Tombes’ sombre tones, Calamity might have taken the warning seriously had she not known him so well. On the way down river a well-dressed stranger inveigled Tombes and Killern into a game of poker. While neither gave any sign of their wisdom, both possessed a very thorough knowledge of all branches of the gambling business. On the fourth deal Killem objected to the dealer extracting for the improvement of a hand the seven of clubs from the bottom of the deck. Killem was ‘dressed’ at the time, and possessed a fair amount of skill in the speedy production of a weapon—leaning to his sheathed bowie knife on that occasion—and so was in a good position to make his point. A series of gambling scandals had recently rocked the Mississippi, causing the riverboat captains to be less tolerant of crooked gamblers than had formerly been the case. So the errant well-dressed stranger found himself penniless and standing on a sand bar, leaving Killem’s outfit to share out eighteen hundred dollars of his money. In addition to their pay from a freighting trip to Fort Sherrard in the Dakota Territory, an advance of wages and expense money donated by the Army, the gambler’s contribution ensured that the Killem bunch were well fixed to enjoy their visit to New Orleans.
Calamity decided to forego her investigation of the Cheval D’Or’s games of chance and sat back in her chair to see how the saloon compared with a Western place in the matter of entertainment. After a brief rest, the band struck up with a lively tune and the saloon-girls led most of the men out on to the open space. Never one for dancing, except when toting more ‘Old Whipping Pust’ whisky than at present, Tombes remained at the table with calamity. Taking her opportunity, Calamity told the leathery-faced scout of the incident in the Park, also about the suggestion she made utilising his knowledge of the ancient and honourable art of reading sign Western style.
“We’ll take usa look whether he likes it or not, comes morning,” Tombes stated when Calamity remarked that the final decision must come from one Lieutenant Caiman who she had not yet met. “Damn it, gal, I’d sure like to lay hands on that there Strangler.”
“And me,” Calamity answered, then her eyes swung from Tombes to gaze across the room with all the intent eagerness of a starving Cheyenne seeing a herd of prime Great Plains buffalo. “Say, who’s that big gal there?”
Following the direction of Calamity’s gaze and jerked thumb, Tombes studied the woman who so aroused his companion’s interest. Big was no exaggeration when describing the woman. She stood nearly six foot tall and weighed at least two hundred pounds. Blonde hair piled high on the woman’s head and her fat, jovial face carried stage make-up.
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