Gunslinger's Moon Read Online Free Page A

words, they were not overtly hostile. For a good reason. The two pieces of iron, gleamed as the strongest deterrent. Lunch ended leaving the gunslinger with the cleaning staff. To pass the time when work ended, he rode.
    After dinner, he let them eat in peace, Jed rode back. The camp was mostly empty when Jed arrived. The two saloons had sucked up all the miners. Animated and clamorous shouts flowed from the doors. Facing each other across a dusty street, the two saloons were shabby compared to the Lucky Strike. Inside the first one the mood hardly noticed the arrival of the gunslinger. Already drunk their moods were unshaken by the arrival man wearing two guns.
    However, the bartenders were unhelpful, giving the same answer as Bjorn, without the politeness. Everyone tried to brush his inquires off. Happy to leave Jed went across to the other saloon. This crowd was not as jovial as the other. Someone must have tipped them off. A somewhat hushed silence fell over several of the patrons. Jed could feel their stares on his back. The type of stares that made a man caress his guns. Resisting the urge he went to the bar. Jed managed to get a drink and a noncommittal answer to a question before the bartender left.
    Sighing, Jed called for their attention. “Gentleman if I may have a moment of your time.” A slight grumbling swept the crowd. “As you all may know Ed Miller has been savagely murdered. Not to alarm you, but it’s possible that a werewolf committed the deed. I am seeking information y’all might have on strange happenings you may have noticed.” The cat was officially out of the bag. Maybe the identity of the suspect would nudge them to talking.
    Jed coughed briefly. “Please,” he said, annoyance in his voice, “stopping this monster is surely something you want.”
    He had never seen a crowd this uneager to uncover a werewolf. To think of all the good work he had done, and still he almost begged. Finding any information was proving impossible and an extreme waste of time and effort. Jed remembered working around plantations in Virginia. There had always been someone that knew something.
    Then a faceless voice angrily yelled, “We don’t know nothing gunslinger. How ‘bout you leave us in peace.”
    “I’m trying to protect you,” Jed tried to placate.
    Someone else shouted, “Like Rows Wilson tried to protect people?” That got the people growling.
    Spreading his hands Jed said, “Listen here, Rows Wilson was a monster himself. But, folks that was during the war. Things were different. Times changed. Besides he was hanged for his crimes.”
    “I heard he killed a hundred people!” Shouts advocating other rumors joined into a chorus. One yell was, “You can’t trust a filthy gunslinger!”             
    Telling them that he knew Rows Wilson and helped hanged him was an urge he easily resisted. Them misinterpreting that comment did not require a leap of one’s creative thinking. That particular gunslinger in an attempt to uncover a werewolf killed over a dozen innocent people. Ilk of his kind gave honest gunslingers a bad name. As the miners hollered, he turned his back to them, fed up with their antics. It seemed either feared or hated was a gunslinger’s choice.
    Jed was frustrated as he took a sip. The beer was cheap and awful. Maybe the bartender placed something in it. Doubly annoyed he pushed the beer away. Staying in Hickory was a waste of time. His gut told him to move on. Promises to Carter be damned. Two miners sat on the stool on either side of Jed. Irritated by their presence, Jed ignored them.
    That failed when the miner on the right, a bald, broken nosed man, said, “Never thought I would see the day when a gunslinger came to town.”
    His friend, a burly black bearded miner, remarked, “Never thought I would see a gunslinger come to a miner’s saloon. This place is for honest laborers.”
    Jed took a slow gaze at them. His pale eyes hard. A peaceful man would have