Read Online the Man Called Noon (1970) by Louis L'amour - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Louis L'amour
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"If you did you'd keep your mouth shut."
He stepped outside and the brakeman followed, glancing over his shoulder. "I think they're comin out," he said. "They ain't goin' to leave it lay."
"Let's get aboard."
"You scared?"
Ruble Noon turned his head sharply to look at the brakeman. "No, I'm not scared, but I have too much sense to get into a shooting match with a couple of half-drunken cowhands over nothing."
At that moment the train whistled.
Ruble Noon walked along, caught the handrail, and swung up to the step. The two cowhands had emerged from the restaurant and were staring after him. The brakeman hesitated, then swung aboard, completing a hasty signal with his lantern.
One of the cowhands started after them. "Hey, you! You can't get away with that! You-"
Ruble Noon went inside, followed by the brakeman, who gave him a surly look. "What did you mean back there? I mean when you said if he knew who you were he'd keep his mouth shut?"
"I was just talking."
"I thought so," the brakeman said. But he seemed unsure, and kept staring at Noon. "I don't get this," he said at last. "There's somethin' here I just don't get"
"Forget it," Ruble Noon stretched out on the settee. "Call me before we get to El Paso."
"It'll be daylight." The brakeman hesitated. "You gettin' off at the same place? This side of town?"
"Naturally," Noon said, and closed his eyes. He heard the brakeman leave to go about bis business, and after a while he fell asleep.
The siding where they let him off was in a thick growth of brush and trees near a deserted ranch on the outskirts of town.
When he had unloaded his horse at the chute, he watched the train pull away. The brakeman was staring after him, obviously puzzled.
Ruble Noon himself was puzzled. Apparently he had made this trip before and was known to the trainmen, but they did not know his business nor why he should be accorded such privilege. Undoubtedly there was some official connection. Perhaps some of his "work" had been for the railroad. It would take somebody with considerable authority to arrange such a situation.
There was nobody around the small adobe. He saw a well, lowered a bucket, and got water for himself and his horse.
The door of the adobe was closed, but it opened under his hand. The place was dusty, but otherwise it was clean and in good shape. There was a bed, and a cupboard devoid of supplies. It was cool and quiet, and was hidden by mesquite thickets and a few cotton-woods.
He went outside again, and noticed a couple of stacks of hay near the corral. He put some down for the roan, and squatted on his heels in the shade, considering the situation. It would be better, he decided, to wait until dark before entering the town.
As he sat there he found himself thinking back to the two cowhands at the restaurant near the station where they had stopped. For the first time he thought about the one who had tried to avoid trouble. That one, he decided, had not been drinking. Moreover, there had been something peculiar in his attitude, some particular caution. Was he imagining it, or had that cowhand been overeager to avoid trouble?
Was it mere chance that they were there? Suppose one of them was there for a purpose, and the other had just joined him by accident? Suppose one was a spy, an outpost, as it were, to notify somebody of Noon's approach to El Paso?
He was imagining things. Knowing nothing for sure, he was finding suspicious items everywhere.
But the one man's attitude, the way he had looked at Ruble Noon, would not leave him. That man had known who he was looking at, but he had not wanted to attract attention.
All right ... take it from there. Suppose that somebody in El Paso had discovered that Ruble Noon used that approach. Suppose that somebody had a man posted to watch for him at the logical place - the restaurant and bar where all train crews stopped.
The one who wanted such information might be one of two types. He might be somebody who wanted to hire him
He stepped outside and the brakeman followed, glancing over his shoulder. "I think they're comin out," he said. "They ain't goin' to leave it lay."
"Let's get aboard."
"You scared?"
Ruble Noon turned his head sharply to look at the brakeman. "No, I'm not scared, but I have too much sense to get into a shooting match with a couple of half-drunken cowhands over nothing."
At that moment the train whistled.
Ruble Noon walked along, caught the handrail, and swung up to the step. The two cowhands had emerged from the restaurant and were staring after him. The brakeman hesitated, then swung aboard, completing a hasty signal with his lantern.
One of the cowhands started after them. "Hey, you! You can't get away with that! You-"
Ruble Noon went inside, followed by the brakeman, who gave him a surly look. "What did you mean back there? I mean when you said if he knew who you were he'd keep his mouth shut?"
"I was just talking."
"I thought so," the brakeman said. But he seemed unsure, and kept staring at Noon. "I don't get this," he said at last. "There's somethin' here I just don't get"
"Forget it," Ruble Noon stretched out on the settee. "Call me before we get to El Paso."
"It'll be daylight." The brakeman hesitated. "You gettin' off at the same place? This side of town?"
"Naturally," Noon said, and closed his eyes. He heard the brakeman leave to go about bis business, and after a while he fell asleep.
The siding where they let him off was in a thick growth of brush and trees near a deserted ranch on the outskirts of town.
When he had unloaded his horse at the chute, he watched the train pull away. The brakeman was staring after him, obviously puzzled.
Ruble Noon himself was puzzled. Apparently he had made this trip before and was known to the trainmen, but they did not know his business nor why he should be accorded such privilege. Undoubtedly there was some official connection. Perhaps some of his "work" had been for the railroad. It would take somebody with considerable authority to arrange such a situation.
There was nobody around the small adobe. He saw a well, lowered a bucket, and got water for himself and his horse.
The door of the adobe was closed, but it opened under his hand. The place was dusty, but otherwise it was clean and in good shape. There was a bed, and a cupboard devoid of supplies. It was cool and quiet, and was hidden by mesquite thickets and a few cotton-woods.
He went outside again, and noticed a couple of stacks of hay near the corral. He put some down for the roan, and squatted on his heels in the shade, considering the situation. It would be better, he decided, to wait until dark before entering the town.
As he sat there he found himself thinking back to the two cowhands at the restaurant near the station where they had stopped. For the first time he thought about the one who had tried to avoid trouble. That one, he decided, had not been drinking. Moreover, there had been something peculiar in his attitude, some particular caution. Was he imagining it, or had that cowhand been overeager to avoid trouble?
Was it mere chance that they were there? Suppose one of them was there for a purpose, and the other had just joined him by accident? Suppose one was a spy, an outpost, as it were, to notify somebody of Noon's approach to El Paso?
He was imagining things. Knowing nothing for sure, he was finding suspicious items everywhere.
But the one man's attitude, the way he had looked at Ruble Noon, would not leave him. That man had known who he was looking at, but he had not wanted to attract attention.
All right ... take it from there. Suppose that somebody in El Paso had discovered that Ruble Noon used that approach. Suppose that somebody had a man posted to watch for him at the logical place - the restaurant and bar where all train crews stopped.
The one who wanted such information might be one of two types. He might be somebody who wanted to hire him
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