Read Online The Trailsman 317 by Jon Sharpe - Free Book Online Page A

take his mind off them, he refilled his tin cup to the brim and sat sipping coffee and going over everything that had happened since she hired him. There were so many unanswered questions. What had happened to Chester Landry? What were the Untillas about? Where had Cyst and Welt gotten to? And when and where would Malachi Skagg make his move?
    Another question occurred to him. Could they trust Binder? The man appeared to be sincere about leading them to Chester’s cabin, but what if the whole thing was a ruse cooked up by Skagg?
    Off in the woods an owl hooted. Fargo listened intently but it was not repeated. It had sounded like a real owl, but some Indians were so skilled at imitating bird cries, it was hard to tell the real from the fake. Shifting, he studied the timber.
    Time dragged. Fargo finished the cup and poured another. By the position of the North Star it was close to midnight. Mabel snored lightly in peaceful repose. He smothered a yawn, set down the cup, and stretched. Some sleep would be nice but he had to stay awake.
    Suddenly a twig snapped. Throwing himself to one side, Fargo wedged the Henry to his shoulder.
    Binder stood at the clearing’s edge, his arms over his head to show he meant no harm. “It’s just me!”
    Wary of a trick, Fargo looked for others but saw none. “Keep your hands where I can see them.”
    â€œYou don’t trust anyone, do you?” Binder came over. The scarred and mottled skin where hair had once been lent him a grisly aspect. “I am in a powerful fix, and that’s no lie.”
    â€œWhere have you been all this while?”
    â€œOff in the woods. I was too scared to move for fear the Untillas would spot me.”
    â€œAre they still out there?”
    â€œI only saw the one who put that arrow in Skagg. He ran off, but where there is one there are usually others, and I have no hankering to be skinned alive.”
    â€œThey hate whites that much?”
    â€œThey hate Skagg,” Binder said, “and anyone who works for him.” He glanced nervously about. “Can I lower my hands now?”
    Fargo nodded. “Have a seat.” He kept the Henry trained on him.
    â€œI should never have offered to help you,” Binder said, running a hand across the scarred skin on his head.
    A sudden insight prompted Fargo to ask, “Who tried to scalp you?”
    â€œThe Untillas. Which is why I want to head for Denver. But no one quits Malachi Skagg unless he lets them and he isn’t about to let me.”
    â€œWhy?”
    Binder ignored the question. “I can’t head to Denver without money, and I am broke. Which is why I need the hundred dollars. But someone must have seen me slip away from the trading post and told Skagg, and he figured out what I was up to. He will turn me into worm food if he gets his hands on me.”
    â€œDo you have a horse?”
    â€œAt the trading post.” Binder spied Mabel’s empty cup and snatched it up. “Do you mind if I help myself?”
    â€œThe coffee will have to wait,” Fargo said, coming to a sudden decision. Bending, he shook Mabel’s shoulder until she mumbled and stirred and finally sat up. She blinked in confusion, then saw Binder.
    â€œWhere did he come from? What have I missed?”
    â€œWe are not waiting for morning,” Fargo revealed. “Gather up your things and saddle your horse. We will leave as soon as Binder and I get back.”
    Binder glanced in the direction of the trading post, and paled. “No, no, no. Skagg will have men watching my animal. We will only get ourselves shot.”
    â€œYou are not riding double with us,” Fargo said.
    â€œDamn it all,” Binder grumbled. “Why can’t things ever be easy?”
    â€œMind explaining to me?” Mabel requested.
    Fargo did, concluding with, “I don’t like to leave you by yourself. You’re to keep your revolver handy, and if the Untillas show