Read Online The Sons of Grady Rourke by Douglas Savage - Free Book Online

think Mr. Shield or Alex could get some kind of temporary order giving you power of attorney when the judge visits here on his circuit.”
    â€œWould I have authority to cancel the lease altogether, if I wanted to?”
    â€œI suppose. But you need the money.”
    â€œYes. That’s true.”
    â€œThen you’ll continue the cattle grazing, for the time being?”
    â€œYes. I don’t have much choice.”
    â€œFine. I’ll tell John when I see him. Now, about your hiring on to protect the cattle on Rourke land?”
    â€œDo you speak for Mr. Chisum?”
    â€œNo one speaks for John Chisum except John Chisum. But we’re partners. I can hire you until he disapproves. His money is good until then. And I’m quite certain he’ll approve. One more gun is one gun not in Dolan’s service.”
    Patrick looked down again. He studied his spurs where he crossed his legs.
    â€œAll right. Till Liam is accounted for and we can settle up Pa’s business.”
    Tunstall patted his blackclad knees before he stood.
    â€œSplendid. I’ll have Billy put you on the payroll at once. Do you need an advance?”
    â€œNo, thanks. I still have some coin. I’ll be on my way, Mr. Tunstall.”
    â€œJohn. Please. I’m John. Chisum is Mister.” He extended his hand, which Patrick took. “And I hope that you can talk some sense into Sean before ity’s too late.”
    â€œYes. I’ll try. I’ll look forward to meeting Mr. Chisum.”
    â€œGood. I’ll send word to you if I have need to ride overto South Spring”
    Patrick nodded, fixed his hat low over his eyes, and walked out of the office. Billy Bonney looked up and nodded cheerfully.
    The Rourke brother’s pace was brisk when he walked down the frozen street toward the Wortley. He left his horse in Tunstall’s paddock where the animal rubbed noses with blind Colonel. Patrick’s spurs made no sound on the packed snow that crunched underfoot. For a town where there were two clearly drawn sides and everyone was on one or the other, the townspeople were friendly. They nodded and touched the brims of their hats when Patrick passed them. Anglos in black suits or ranching clothing and Mexicans uniformly dressed like Indians or cow punchers were equally civil to the new man in town.
    The crowd inside the adobe hotel surprised Patrick. The boarding house was full of hungry-looking men in shabby trail dusters and baggy pants. The dark-faced clerk at the desk nodded.
    â€œHe’s in the cantina.”
    â€œThanks.”
    Hat in hand, Patrick found Sean sitting at a large table where all seven chairs were filled. There were three bottles between them but Sean was the only one without a glass at his place.
    â€œPatrick? Come to visit your ex-brother?”
    â€œSean.”
    When Sean stood up, Patrick noticed that his brother’s eyes were not bloodshot and his breath did not smell like kerosine. He could smell strong tobacco instead. Sean pulled a chair from a nearby table and wedged it in close to his. He gestured toward the empty seat. Patrick remained standing and eyed the strangers at the table: young men in their mid-twenties with unkempt hair, scruffy beards, and heavy gunbelts. One of the men looked older, in his thirties. He alone wore a business suit and a clean, white shirt.
    â€œThis here is my little brother Patrick.”
    The strangers nodded.
    â€œThis is Jesse Evans,” Sean said as if he had known all of his life the man smiling without pretense.
    â€œMr. Evans.”
    â€œThey call me Captain. It’s an honorary.” Jesse Evans chuckled. When he stood up for a moment until the brothers got seated, Patrick was surprised that the cattle rustler was rather stocky and short, maybe 150 pounds on a 5-foot, 6-inch frame. His gray eyes were not killers’ eyes. Greasy, blond hair fell over his forehead. “Come to join the Boys? Sean has decided