Pulp Fiction | The Ghost Riders Affair (July 1966) Read Online Free

Mabel Finnish. She arrived here two days after the cattle disappeared. Come to think of it, she's been here ever since. Nothing has scared her away."
    "As a matter of fact, she can't seem to hear enough," Solo suggested.
    Maynard didn't answer, only stood, frowning, puzzled.
    Pete Wasson went over his story again for Solo.
    They sat on the bunkhouse stoop, along with Marty Nichelson and Maynard.
    Pete said, "That's right, I rode northwest up into the Sawtooth ranges—"
    "There was a pretty clear trail in the foothills," Maynard said. "Then, up in the lava spikes, we lost them. But Pete and Marty are good trackers. We sent Marty up there first, then Pete. But they lost any trace of the cattle."
    "Could a flash flood have washed away the tracks?" Solo asked.
    "Could have, if there'd been any flash flood," Carlos Maynard said. "But there wasn't any rain. Hasn't been none in weeks. No matter what Pete thinks."
    Solo watched the young cowpuncher. "So what happened is, you rode looking for sign—"
    "Right. Ought to be able to find sign of some kind of a thousand head—"
    "And you fell, cracked your skull?" Solo said. "That's what happened?"
    "Yes. I told you. I must have fallen."
    "What time was it?" Solo said. "Morning? Afternoon? Late evening?"
    Pete scowled, staring at him. He shook his head. "I swear to you, I don't know."
    Maynard and Nichelson stared at each other.
    Solo said to Pete, "You mind taking off your hat?"
    Pete frowned, puzzled. "I don't mind, but why should I?"
    Solo shrugged. "Let's just say you're being polite to Miss Finnish out there under that cottonwood tree. She hasn't taken her eyes off us."
    Solo heard Maynard's intake of breath. "By golly, there she is. Hanging around. You reckon she can hear what we say?"
    Solo shrugged. "She might have some kind of listening device, but it seems to me that she's reading lips."
    Maynard swore. "Looks like we better check into her."
    "We'll check her out," Solo agreed. "But we better take things in order of importance." He moved his fingers expertly across Pete's scalp.
    "What you mean?" Maynard said, watching him check the cowboy's skull.
    "We have more urgent matters," Solo said. "Like Pete's scalp."
    "What about Pete's scalp?" Maynard whispered.
    Even Mabel Finnish under the cottonwood tree appeared to be holding her breath.
    "Yeah." Pete straightened. "What you looking for in my head, Solo?"
    "If you fell from your horse, and struck your head hard enough to knock yourself out for three days, Pete," Solo said, "shouldn't there be some kind of knot on your skull?"
    Pete Wasson stood up slowly. His eyes were thoughtful.
    "How about that?" he whispered. "There ain't no knot on my head. Funny. Nobody thought about that."
    "What's going on here?" Marty Nichelson said.
    "That's what we've got to find out," Solo told him. "Can you tell me anything about your headache—and some of the things you did in Cripple Bend for three days?"
    Marty frowned. "Well, nothing's clear, Solo. But that don't mean I'm lying!"
    "Me either," Pete said. "Even if there ain't no knot on my head, I ain't lying."
    "And I was in Cripple Bend. That ought to be easy enough to prove. People would of seen me there, wouldn't they?"
    "Looks like it," Solo agreed. "Meantime, either one of you object to taking a polygraph test?"
    "What's that?" Pete asked cautiously.
    "A lie detector," Solo said. "I don't think either one of you is lying purposely, but a test might help you."
    Marty and Pete stared at each other. Marty shrugged. "I got no objections. It all happened just like I said. It ain't clear to me, but I ain't lying."
    "You got one of them lie detectors?" Pete said.
    "We can have one by tomorrow," Solo said. "If neither one of you objects."
    "Sure." Pete said. "Marty and me are willing. We ain't trying to hide nothing. If one of them things will help get at the truth, I want to know."
    FIVE
    Solo parked the Maynard Ranch station wagon outside the City Bar on the single street in the settlement at