Ralph Compton Death Rides a Chestnut Mare Read Online Free Page A

have,” said Caney Font. “His middle name is David, and there’s times he calls himself Bart Davis.”
    â€œWhere are you bound, kid?” Cude Nations asked.
    â€œAway from Fort Smith,” said Danielle.
    The outlaws laughed. Her answer had told them nothing, and it was the kind of humor they could appreciate.
    â€œWe don’t eat too high on the hog, kid,” Caney Font said, “but you’re welcome to stay to what there is.”
    The food was bacon, beans, and sourdough biscuits, washed down with coffee. Danielle was ravenous, having had no breakfast.
    â€œKid,” Caney Font said, after they had eaten, “we might could use that fast gun of yours. That is, if you ain’t playin’ games.”
    â€œPick a target,” said Danielle.
    â€œWhat about this tin the beans was in?” Slack Hitchfelt said.
    Without warning, Hitchfelt threw the tin into the air. In a split second, Danielle fired twice, drilling the can with both shots before it touched the ground.
    â€œMy God, that’s some shootin’,” said Caney Font. “How’d you learn to shoot like that, kid?”
    â€œPractice,” Danielle said, punching out the empty casings and reloading.
    â€œHow’d you like to ride with us to Wichita on a bank job?” asked Caney Font.
    â€œI don’t think so,” Danielle said. “I have other business.”
    Cletus Kirby laughed. “What business is more important than money?”
    â€œKilling the bastards that murdered my father,” said Danielle.
    â€œThen I reckon you ain’t interested in joinin’ us,” Slack Hitchfelt said.
    â€œNo,” said Danielle.
    â€œThen I reckon it’s unfortunate for you, kid,” said Caney Font. “One word to the law in Wichita, and it’ll all be over for us.”
    â€œI’m not going to Wichita,” Danielle said.
    â€œYou’re a sure enough killer, but you ain’t no outlaw,” said Peavey Oden.
    Danielle saw it coming. She had refused to throw in with them, and having revealed their plans, they had to kill her. If they all drew simultaneously, she was doomed. But they had no prearranged signal. Peavy Oden drew first, with Hargis Cox and Cletus Kirby a second behind. Danielle fired three times in a drumroll of sound, while the men who had drawn against her hadn’t even gotten off a shot. The remaining three outlaws were careful not to move their hands.
    â€œThe rest of you—Font, Nations, and Hitchfelt—are welcome to saddle up and ride,” said Danielle.
    â€œMake the mistake of following me, and now that I know your intentions, I’ll gun you down without warning.”
    â€œWe ain’t about to follow you, kid,” said Caney Font. “At least, I ain’t.”
    â€œMe neither,” Nations and Hitchfelt said in a single voice.
    â€œThen saddle up and ride,” said Danielle.
    Careful to keep their hands free of their weapons, the trio saddled their horses and rode into the night. Danielle’s hands trembled as she reloaded her Colt. While she had a lead toward one of her father’s killers, she had already gunned down five men. When and where would it end? She saddled the chestnut mare and was about to mount when it occurred to her that she should search the dead outlaws. As distasteful as the task was, she found a total of a hundred and twenty dollars in the pockets of the dead men. Common sense soon overcame her guilt and she took the money.
    Already tired of killing and outlaws, she rode south, toward the Red River and Texas. There was a chance the men she hunted had traveled as far from the scene of their crime as they could, and Texas was by far larger than Indian Territory. Danielle forded the Red at the familiar cattle crossing, near Doan’s Store. Taking some of the money she had, she bought supplies she had been doing without, such as a small coffeepot, coffee, a skillet, canned