Death Rides Alone Read Online Free Page B

horse.
    He unfastened one of the saddlebags, reached inside, and brought out a folded sheet of paper. He unfolded it and held it out to the marshal.
    Lowering the shotgun, the lawman stepped forward and took the wanted poster from Luke. He studied it for a long moment, moving his lips a little as he read. Then he looked down at Judd Tyler.
    â€œYou’ll see that the horse in that stall over there matches the description on the poster,” Luke said, pointing at the paint, “and Mr. Crandall can confirm that Tyler is the one who rode it into town yesterday.”
    â€œHe sure as blazes did,” the old liveryman said. “Now, is somebody gonna get these dadblasted ropes off’a me? It’s mighty uncomfortable, bein’ tied up like this.”
    The marshal grunted, handed the reward dodger back to Luke, and said, “All right, Jensen, why don’t you give Fred a hand? I’ll keep an eye on Tyler.”
    â€œMake it a close eye,” Luke said. “He’s tricky.”
    â€œHuh. Bein’ tricky when there’s a shotgun pointed at you don’t get you anything except a load of buckshot.”
    Luke went behind Crandall and quickly untied the ropes around the old man’s wrists. As Crandall was flexing his newly freed arms and muttering, Luke asked, “Did you see what he did with my guns and knife?”
    â€œDropped ’em over yonder in that feed bin.”
    Luke retrieved the weapons. He felt better when he was armed again. He kept his right-hand Remington out. He found his hat, which had been knocked off when Tyler clouted him with the shovel, and clapped it back on his head, wincing a little at the pressure on the goose egg that had risen where he was hit.
    â€œI assume you can lock up Tyler in your jail, Marshal?”
    â€œYeah, I guess that’d be all right. Name’s Donovan, by the way. Chet Donovan.”
    â€œI noticed telegraph wires leading into town. I hope you won’t mind sending a message to White Fork, Marshal, to let the authorities know that Tyler is in custody here. And that I’m the one who captured him, of course.”
    â€œOf course,” Donovan said. “Wouldn’t want to forget that, would we . . . bounty hunter?”
    â€œPerhaps it’s not an honorable profession in the minds of many . . . but it is an honest one.”
    â€œWhatever you say.” Donovan jerked the shotgun’s twin barrels at Tyler and went on, “Get up, mister.”
    Tyler climbed to his feet. He seemed a little shaky from the pounding he had taken, but his voice was firm and clear as he looked at Luke and said, “I meant it when I said that was a damned lie, you know.”
    â€œYou mean about you being wanted in Montana?”
    â€œI mean about killing Rachel Montgomery. I never did it, Jensen. I didn’t kill her.”
    Marshal Donovan made a disgusted noise in his throat and said, “Every killer claims the same thing, I reckon. Get movin’. You’re goin’ behind bars where you belong.”

CHAPTER 4
    Luke left the gray at the livery stable with Fred Crandall’s promise to take good care of the animal, then accompanied Marshal Donovan and Judd Tyler to Bent Creek’s jail.
    A squat, stone building housed both the marshal’s office and a small cell block. Donovan prodded the prisoner into one of the cells and slammed the barred door after him.
    â€œThere,” the lawman said with some satisfaction. “He ain’t goin’ anywhere, the dirty killer.”
    Tyler let out a weary sigh and said, “I didn’t—”
    Donovan held up a hand to stop him.
    â€œYou might as well not waste your breath, kid. I can read. I saw what that wanted poster says.”
    â€œJust because it’s printed on a wanted poster doesn’t mean it’s true.”
    â€œI never saw one yet that wasn’t.”
    Luke could have pointed out that the marshal was wrong. Not