Crossfire Trail (1953) Read Online Free
Author: Louis L'amour
shells.
"Where can I find Ann Rodney?" he asked. The white-haired proprietor gave him a quick glance, then nodded to his right.. Rafe turned and found himself looking into the large, soft dark eyes of a slender, yet beautifully shaped girl in a print dress. Her lips were delicately lovely, her dark hair was gathered in a loose knot at the nape of her neck. She was so lovely that it left him a little breathless.
She smiled and her eyes were questioning. "I'm Ann Rodney," she said. "What is it you want?"
"My name is Rafe Caradec," he said gently. "Your father sent me."
Her face went white to the lips and she stepped back suddenly, dropping one hand to the counter as though for support.
"You come--from my father? Why, I..."
Bruce Barkow, who had apparently followed them from the saloon, stepped in front of Rafe, his face flushed with anger.
"You've scared her to death!" he snapped. "What do you mean, comin' in here with such a story? Charles Rodney has been dead for almost a year!"
Rafe's eyes measured Barkow, his thoughts racing. "He has? How did he die?"
"He was killed," Barkow said, "for the money he was carryin', it looked like." Barkow's eyes turned. "Did you kill him?"
Rafe was suddenly aware that Johnny Gill was staring at him, his brows drawn together, puzzled and wondering. Gill, he realized, knew him but slightly, and might easily become suspicious of his motives.
Gene Baker also was studying him coldly, his eyes alive with suspicion. Ann Rodney stared at him, as if stunned by what he had said, and somehow uncertain.
"No," Rafe said coolly. "I didn't kill him, but I'd be plumb interested to know what made yuh believe he was dead."
"Believe he was dead?" Barkow laughed harshly. "I was with him when he died! We found him beside the trail, shot through the body by bandits. I brought back his belongings to Miss Rodney."
"Miss Rodney," Rafe began, "if I could talk to you a few minutes . . ."
"No!" she whispered. "I don't want to talk to you! What can you be thinking of? Coming to me with such a story? What is it you want from me?"
"Somehow," Rafe said quietly, "you've got hold of some false information. Your father has been dead for no more than two months."
"Get out of here!" Barkow ordered, his hands on his gun. "Get out, I say! I don't know what scheme you've cooked up, but it won't work! If you know what's good for you, you'll leave this town while the goin' is good!"
Ann Rodney turned sharply around and ran from the store, heading for the storekeeper's living quarters.
"You'd better get out, mister," Gene Baker said harshly. "We know how Rodney died. You can't work no underhanded schemes on that young lady. Her pa died, and he talked before he died. Three men heard him."
Rafe Caradec turned and walked outside, standing on the boardwalk, frowning at the skyline. He was aware that Gill had moved up beside him.
"Boss," Gill said, "I ain't no lily, but neither am I takin' part in no deal to skin a young lady out of what is hers by rights. You'd better throw a leg over your saddle and get!"
"Don't jump to conclusions, Gill," Rafe advised, "and before you make any change in your plans, suppose you talk to Tex about this? He was with me, an' he knows all about Rodney's death as well as I do. If they brought any belongings off his back here, there's somethin' more to this than we believed."
Gill kicked his boot-toe against a loose board. "Tex was with you? Durn it, man! What of that yarn of theirs? It don't make sense!"
"That's right," Caradec replied, "and before it will we've got to do some diggin'. Johnny," he added, "suppose I told you that Barkow back there held a mortgage on the Rodney ranch, and Rodney went to Frisco, got the money, and paid it in Frisco--then never got home?"
Gill stared at Rafe, his mouth tightening. "Then nobody here would know he ever paid that mortgage but Barkow? The man he paid it to?"
"That's right."
"Then I'd say this Barkow was a sneakin' polecat!" Gill said harshly.
"Where can I find Ann Rodney?" he asked. The white-haired proprietor gave him a quick glance, then nodded to his right.. Rafe turned and found himself looking into the large, soft dark eyes of a slender, yet beautifully shaped girl in a print dress. Her lips were delicately lovely, her dark hair was gathered in a loose knot at the nape of her neck. She was so lovely that it left him a little breathless.
She smiled and her eyes were questioning. "I'm Ann Rodney," she said. "What is it you want?"
"My name is Rafe Caradec," he said gently. "Your father sent me."
Her face went white to the lips and she stepped back suddenly, dropping one hand to the counter as though for support.
"You come--from my father? Why, I..."
Bruce Barkow, who had apparently followed them from the saloon, stepped in front of Rafe, his face flushed with anger.
"You've scared her to death!" he snapped. "What do you mean, comin' in here with such a story? Charles Rodney has been dead for almost a year!"
Rafe's eyes measured Barkow, his thoughts racing. "He has? How did he die?"
"He was killed," Barkow said, "for the money he was carryin', it looked like." Barkow's eyes turned. "Did you kill him?"
Rafe was suddenly aware that Johnny Gill was staring at him, his brows drawn together, puzzled and wondering. Gill, he realized, knew him but slightly, and might easily become suspicious of his motives.
Gene Baker also was studying him coldly, his eyes alive with suspicion. Ann Rodney stared at him, as if stunned by what he had said, and somehow uncertain.
"No," Rafe said coolly. "I didn't kill him, but I'd be plumb interested to know what made yuh believe he was dead."
"Believe he was dead?" Barkow laughed harshly. "I was with him when he died! We found him beside the trail, shot through the body by bandits. I brought back his belongings to Miss Rodney."
"Miss Rodney," Rafe began, "if I could talk to you a few minutes . . ."
"No!" she whispered. "I don't want to talk to you! What can you be thinking of? Coming to me with such a story? What is it you want from me?"
"Somehow," Rafe said quietly, "you've got hold of some false information. Your father has been dead for no more than two months."
"Get out of here!" Barkow ordered, his hands on his gun. "Get out, I say! I don't know what scheme you've cooked up, but it won't work! If you know what's good for you, you'll leave this town while the goin' is good!"
Ann Rodney turned sharply around and ran from the store, heading for the storekeeper's living quarters.
"You'd better get out, mister," Gene Baker said harshly. "We know how Rodney died. You can't work no underhanded schemes on that young lady. Her pa died, and he talked before he died. Three men heard him."
Rafe Caradec turned and walked outside, standing on the boardwalk, frowning at the skyline. He was aware that Gill had moved up beside him.
"Boss," Gill said, "I ain't no lily, but neither am I takin' part in no deal to skin a young lady out of what is hers by rights. You'd better throw a leg over your saddle and get!"
"Don't jump to conclusions, Gill," Rafe advised, "and before you make any change in your plans, suppose you talk to Tex about this? He was with me, an' he knows all about Rodney's death as well as I do. If they brought any belongings off his back here, there's somethin' more to this than we believed."
Gill kicked his boot-toe against a loose board. "Tex was with you? Durn it, man! What of that yarn of theirs? It don't make sense!"
"That's right," Caradec replied, "and before it will we've got to do some diggin'. Johnny," he added, "suppose I told you that Barkow back there held a mortgage on the Rodney ranch, and Rodney went to Frisco, got the money, and paid it in Frisco--then never got home?"
Gill stared at Rafe, his mouth tightening. "Then nobody here would know he ever paid that mortgage but Barkow? The man he paid it to?"
"That's right."
"Then I'd say this Barkow was a sneakin' polecat!" Gill said harshly.
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