Read Online William W. Johnstone by Massacre Mountain - Free Book Online Page A

said.
    I eased back in my bunk. The room was probably going to be my coffin. The ceiling would be the last thing I’d ever see. I might croak in the dark and never see sunlight again. Maybe croaking wouldn’t be such a bad idea, the way I felt. The room rotated around and around and then heaved like the deck of a ship in a gale.
    I was dangerously near heaving, but it never happened. I’d hold off until Doc Harrison arrived, and then show him a thing or two. If he came. I hoped he wouldn’t. He would be full of hearty cheer, and I’d be ready to kill him if he said one more kindly word.
    I lay there rumbling away, farting and belching, and then Rusty walked in without even knocking. They call him Rusty because of his copper hair; I don’t know what the rest of his name is; I’d have to look it up in the county ledgers. He’s my best deputy, and is real good at terrifying children. He’s got a lantern jaw and sings bawdy songs like a sailor on shore leave. He can keep order in Doubtful better than I can. His main fault is that he pinches women’s butts.
    “How you doing?” he asked.
    “I might croak.”
    “That’s fine. The office runs better without you. Don’t get well.”
    “I’ll try not to.”
    “We all went to have a look at that corpse over at Maxwell’s. He sure is a stranger.”
    “Yeah, no one in Upward’s joint ever saw him. You get aholt of the vaudeville lady?”
    “Yeah, we got her into Maxwell’s just as he was bleeding the corpse into a bucket. She said it ain’t anyone with the show.”
    “What about her consort? The one she showed up with?”
    “Him? He came with her. That’s her fixer. Harry Frost. He does the fixing for the show.”
    “What the hell is fixing?”
    “Every show’s got a fixer. He’s the one makes things work. If someone quits, he pounds the hell out of the quitter or finds a replacement. If a freight company overcharges, he has it out with the company. If they lose costumes in a rainstorm, he fixes up the show with new ones. If the politicians in the next town want some bucks or free tickets or a concession to sell beer in the lobby, he gives them something. Get it?”
    “I wish he’d fix my gut.”
    “I don’t think the deceased had anything to do with the show. He looks like a businessman. Pretty well dressed.”
    “Rusty, you get Arbenz to take some pictures of him. Prop him up, get the image, and have Arbenz make two prints. We need to get someone to identify him.”
    “Maxwell wants money.”
    “My ma always told me never walk into a funeral parlor. Rusty, when I cash in, which should be in ten minutes or so, you put me in a wagon and take me to the supervisors and lay me across their big table in there and tell them to pay.”
    “They’re too cheap, Cotton.”
    “Ain’t that the truth.”
    “You need a good scrub. Should I get Belle?”
    “Stop torturing me, Rusty.”
    “You should never have took your boots off. How can you stand your own feet?”
    “My ma used to say that smelly feet are better than any other smells.”
    “I’m out of here.”
    Rusty left, and I settled back to get some rest, but then Doc Harrison busted in unannounced. He was unlikeable on sight, with them little eyeglasses with round lenses and shark teeth wounding his dusty lips.
    “Belle sent me,” he said.
    “There’s nothing wrong with me,” I said.
    He sat on the edge of my bed, poking me with a finger and making me mad.
    “And I won’t pay you since I didn’t ask for you,” I said.
    He was manipulating my jaw, trying to find swelling in there, and listening to my heart and all that stuff.
    Finally he quit mauling me. “You’re right. There’s nothing wrong with you.”
    “I told you so.”
    “It’s the vapors.”
    “What’s that?”
    “The vapors are the imitation of disease. The county supervisors are firing you, so you get the vapors.”
    “Tell that to my chamber pot,” I said.
    “The vapors are induced by stress. They are most common