Read Online The Deputy - Edge Series 2 by George G. Gilman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: George G. Gilman
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we first seen them riding up toward the place. Strangers packing guns and they looked like they could be trouble, pa said when they still weren’t close enough to hear him.’
The boy’s attention wandered away from the man’s chest and Edge prompted:
‘Then, when they got closer, Bob Frank?’
‘Yeah. They turned out to be real nice gents. Said they was in a hurry to get back to where they’d fixed up to meet some other folks over in the hill country. And they said they’d give a dollar to pa if him or me would bring the message into Bishopsburg.’
‘Get it delivered here before noon you said, kid?’
Another of his emphatic nods. ‘Yeah. Well, pa said we’d be glad to help them out. That I’d run the errand for them and that just ten cents was payment enough for such an easy chore.’
He frowned again as he lost the thread of what he was saying, doubtless resentful of the cut in payment negotiated by his father. Then he grimaced briefly and shrugged as he went on without any encouragement from Edge:
‘And that’s about it, I guess. They said good morning in the Mexican lingo and turned around and rode off back east into the hills. And pa said for me to saddle up the pony and come to town. Which is what I done. Right away. Ain’t no more to tell about it, seems to me. Except the two Mexicans said I was sure to give the message to no one else but the sheriff. Or if not him, then to you, Mr Edge.’
‘You’ve done a good job, Bob Frank,’ Edge said as he thrust out the cupped palm holding the coins. ‘Reckon this ten cents goes a little way to make up for what your pa lost you on the deal?’
The tall and skinny youngster grinned. ‘Sure does. I’m real grateful to you, sir.’
He took the money, dropped it into his dungarees pocket and hesitated, a question in his blue, shining with excitement eyes.
‘Something else, Bob Frank?’
‘You gonna be around Bishopsburg for awhile, Mr Edge?’
‘I’m not sure about that yet.’
‘Well, sir, if you are and there’s ever anything I can do for you, you let me know. I’m mostly at the farm. Two miles out along Mossman Road. And if pa can spare me, I’ll be real happy to give you a hand with anything you want done, sir.’
Edge nodded. ‘I’ll keep in mind what you’ve said, kid.’
The boy tipped his battered hat, spun on his heels and came out of the mouth of the alley, half ran across the front of the law office and around the corner on to Mossman Road. 48
A few minutes later, while Edge pondered the situation created by the note from the Mexicans, aware of the curious gaze directed fixedly toward him by Otis Logan, the door of the law office swung open and Ted Straker stepped out.
The deputy paused in his intention to cross the street: surprised to see Edge was still nearby and misunderstood his reason for being there with the envelope in his hand.
‘The telegraph office don’t ever open until nine thirty, mister.’
‘No sweat.’
‘Oh, okay.’ He shrugged and moved across the street. Heading for the saloon that had only just opened for business, the outer double doors folded back to either side of the batwings.
Straker halted on the threshold of the Dancing Horse, to listen to what Otis Logan had to tell him: and hand gestures by the old timer and glances from the deputy signalled to Edge that this time he was the subject of an exchange.
Then Straker turned away and pushed in through the swing doors of the saloon. Reemerged less than a minute later, a steaming mug in each hand. Edge went toward the saloon and met the deputy halfway across the broad width of Main Street.
‘The Carters never have hired on outside help that I know about,’ Straker said, obviously fishing for information. ‘Vera Carter is as hard working as Frank in the fields and with the stock. And with that simple minded son of theirs to lend a hand, the three of them can take care of just about everything that needs to be done around the
The boy’s attention wandered away from the man’s chest and Edge prompted:
‘Then, when they got closer, Bob Frank?’
‘Yeah. They turned out to be real nice gents. Said they was in a hurry to get back to where they’d fixed up to meet some other folks over in the hill country. And they said they’d give a dollar to pa if him or me would bring the message into Bishopsburg.’
‘Get it delivered here before noon you said, kid?’
Another of his emphatic nods. ‘Yeah. Well, pa said we’d be glad to help them out. That I’d run the errand for them and that just ten cents was payment enough for such an easy chore.’
He frowned again as he lost the thread of what he was saying, doubtless resentful of the cut in payment negotiated by his father. Then he grimaced briefly and shrugged as he went on without any encouragement from Edge:
‘And that’s about it, I guess. They said good morning in the Mexican lingo and turned around and rode off back east into the hills. And pa said for me to saddle up the pony and come to town. Which is what I done. Right away. Ain’t no more to tell about it, seems to me. Except the two Mexicans said I was sure to give the message to no one else but the sheriff. Or if not him, then to you, Mr Edge.’
‘You’ve done a good job, Bob Frank,’ Edge said as he thrust out the cupped palm holding the coins. ‘Reckon this ten cents goes a little way to make up for what your pa lost you on the deal?’
The tall and skinny youngster grinned. ‘Sure does. I’m real grateful to you, sir.’
He took the money, dropped it into his dungarees pocket and hesitated, a question in his blue, shining with excitement eyes.
‘Something else, Bob Frank?’
‘You gonna be around Bishopsburg for awhile, Mr Edge?’
‘I’m not sure about that yet.’
‘Well, sir, if you are and there’s ever anything I can do for you, you let me know. I’m mostly at the farm. Two miles out along Mossman Road. And if pa can spare me, I’ll be real happy to give you a hand with anything you want done, sir.’
Edge nodded. ‘I’ll keep in mind what you’ve said, kid.’
The boy tipped his battered hat, spun on his heels and came out of the mouth of the alley, half ran across the front of the law office and around the corner on to Mossman Road. 48
A few minutes later, while Edge pondered the situation created by the note from the Mexicans, aware of the curious gaze directed fixedly toward him by Otis Logan, the door of the law office swung open and Ted Straker stepped out.
The deputy paused in his intention to cross the street: surprised to see Edge was still nearby and misunderstood his reason for being there with the envelope in his hand.
‘The telegraph office don’t ever open until nine thirty, mister.’
‘No sweat.’
‘Oh, okay.’ He shrugged and moved across the street. Heading for the saloon that had only just opened for business, the outer double doors folded back to either side of the batwings.
Straker halted on the threshold of the Dancing Horse, to listen to what Otis Logan had to tell him: and hand gestures by the old timer and glances from the deputy signalled to Edge that this time he was the subject of an exchange.
Then Straker turned away and pushed in through the swing doors of the saloon. Reemerged less than a minute later, a steaming mug in each hand. Edge went toward the saloon and met the deputy halfway across the broad width of Main Street.
‘The Carters never have hired on outside help that I know about,’ Straker said, obviously fishing for information. ‘Vera Carter is as hard working as Frank in the fields and with the stock. And with that simple minded son of theirs to lend a hand, the three of them can take care of just about everything that needs to be done around the
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