Read Online The Road to Ratchet Creek by J. T. Edson - Free Book Online Page B

you don’t get shut and lie still I’ll tell everybody I meet that those five damned scalps’re nothing but the pullings from hosses’ tails.”
    â€œHow’d you know about that?” Joe demanded, concern and contrition warring with the agony on his face.
    â€œNever you mind. But I do know.”
    â€œDobe Killem warned me that you was a real mean cuss and got a plumb ornery streak, gal,” Joe complained. “I bet you would tell on me at that.”
    A slight grin twisted at Calamity’s lips, and she could imagine her boss saying it. Knowing that Dobe Killem suffered with “Cecil” as a Christian name came in useful on such occasions as when their wills clashed on some issue. So she figured a similar form of blackmail ought to stifle Joe’s protests and make him see reason.
    â€œSpread a tarp on the ground some of you,” she said to the watching men. “Then come and help ease him on to it. Johnny, go up the top and throw down my bedroll.”
    â€œThis’s a whole heap of fuss for nothing!” Joe growled. “I’m not hurt bad.”
    And saying it he collapsed unconscious in Calamity’s arms.
    â€œYou’re an awful old liar, Joe, but you’ve got more guts than they could hang on the biggestcorral’s fence,” the girl said quietly, thinking of the courage needed to continue driving with such a wound. “When’d this happen?”
    â€œIt must’ve been as we started into the dip,” Cultus replied. “He gave a jump like he’d been bee-stung just afore we went over.”
    â€œYou mean he took us through there at that speed with a bullet in him?” Conway gulped.
    â€œHe for sure d——,” Cultus began.
    â€œNext fall’ll do fine for me to get that tarp spread!” Calamity interrupted coldly. “Only it snows something fierce up this way then and I don’t reckon Joe can wait that long.”
    Goaded into movement by Calamity’s cold voice, the men prepared to obey her orders. John shinned up the side of the coach to reach its roof, unfastened the tarpaulin cover and exposed the passengers’ baggage. In his haste to collect Calamity’s bedroll, he tangled it with his carpet bag and tipped the latter over the side. Monique gave a startled squeak as the bag thudded down at her feet and hopped hurriedly aside, drawing the others’ attention to her. Not that they looked for long at her, but turned their eyes to the ground. In landing, the carpet-bag burst open and scattered its contents on the ground. A clean shirt, change of underclothing and roll of toilet articles bounced into view, closely followed by a bulky oblong leather case. None of the items, even the case, were sufficiently out of the ordinaryto warrant the amount of interest shown by the onlookers.
    The two thick pads of money which accompanied the other items into sight formed the source of attraction.
    A low whistle broke from Conway. Thorbold stared with eyes bugged out like organ-stops. Letting out a soft gasp, Monique darted a glance at the others. Calamity and Cole exchanged astonished looks. Only Cultus remained unaffected. During his time riding shotgun for Wells Fargo he had seen so many curious items among passengers’ baggage that the sight of the money failed to arouse his interest.
    With Calamity’s bedroll clutched in his hand, John dropped from the top of the coach. Despite there being one thousand dollars of his father’s hard-earned savings lying in plain view, he showed little concern as he went to the girl.
    â€œThat’s a whole heap of cash for a young feller to be toting,” Cole said.
    â€œIt’s to pay for the machinery, sir,” John explained. “We’ve only just managed to save enough to buy it.”
    â€œWas I you, I’d find a better place to carry it than that,” Calamity told him as she took the bedroll.
    â€œShucks, no