Read Online Trailsman #377 : Bounty Hunt (9781101604007) by Jon Sharpe - Free Book Online Page A

treated himself. “Six should do me. Scrambled.”
    Glenda laid out slices of bacon in a frying pan, then broke eggs into another. She made toast, too, and set out jam.
    Jennifer joined them as her mother was setting out plates. She wore a bright blue dress and had tied her hair back with a matching ribbon and looked fresh-scrubbed and happy. “Morning, everyone.”
    â€œMy, aren’t you in a good mood,” Glenda said. “Normally you’re a grump this early in the day. I take it you slept well after our little disturbance?”
    â€œNothing little about it,” Jennifer said with a secret wink at Fargo. “But yes, I slept better than I have in ages.”
    Constance shuffled in, still in a robe. “The smells woke me up,” she said, stifling a yawn.
    â€œGo back upstairs and get dressed,” Glenda said. “We have company.”
    â€œIt’s only him,” Constance said, with a nod at Fargo. “He saw me like this last night.”
    â€œThat’s not the point.”
    â€œIf you insist,” Constance grumbled, making it sound as if it were the greatest inconvenience ever inflicted on a human being.
    Fargo took his time eating. He’d be in the saddle most of the day, and who knew how many days after. Little was said. Constance was sullen. Glenda seemed to be thinking hard about something. As for Jennifer, she’d give him sly smiles when she thought her mother and sister weren’t looking.
    By eight Fargo was in the saddle.
    â€œI still don’t see what you hope to accomplish,” Glenda remarked. “Not when you don’t have a clue where he is.”
    â€œHe knows where I am,” Fargo said.
    â€œDon’t let anything happen to you if you can help it. I’m counting on you for my half of the bounty.”
    â€œNice to know you care,” Fargo said.
    A jab of his spurs, and he rode down the main street to the north end of Meridian. Beyond, he passed isolated cabins. At one a dog barked. At another children waved.
    He never once looked back. If he was right, it wouldn’t do to let on that he suspected.
    The road ended at the edge of forest that stretched on forever. He went a dozen yards in and drew rein. It wasn’t long before a rider appeared. To say he was surprised was putting it mildly. It wasn’t an outlaw.
    Dismounting, he walked the Ovaro behind a blue spruce, shucked the Henry from the saddle scabbard, and waited to show himself until hooves clomped on the carpet of pine needles.
    Leveling the Henry as he stepped into the open, Fargo said, “Well, look who it is.”
    Marshal Theodore Cripdin jerked on his reins. “You!” he blurted. He blinked, then asked, “What are you doing here?”
    â€œWaiting for you.”
    Cripdin switched his reins from one hand to the other. “How can that be? I decided to go for a ride on the spur of the moment.”
    â€œBullshit,” Fargo said. “You’re following me.”
    â€œWhy would I do that?”
    â€œFor Blasingame.”
    â€œYou’re loco.” Cripdin tapped his badge. “I’m not part of his gang.”
    â€œYou were watching Glenda’s house last night.”
    â€œI did no such thing,” Cripdin said. “I was home in bed.”
    â€œWhy don’t I believe you?” Fargo asked. “You wouldn’t be the first tin star I’ve come across who isn’t worthy to wear a badge.”
    â€œNow see here,” Cripdin blustered. “You might not think much of me but I’m honest.”
    â€œYet here you are.”
    â€œI’m out for a ride, I tell you.”
    Fargo raised the Henry to his shoulder. “Here’s how it will be. You’ll turn around and go back to town. If Blasingame asks, tell him I was on to you and didn’t leave you any choice.”
    â€œYou think you know everything but you don’t.”
    â€œIf I catch you following me