Ransom Read Online Free Page A

his clothes and, well, whatever else. He might be old but he was not that old yet.
    That was what he needed. It would take money to do it, though. A helluva lot more than three dollars and fourteen cents.
    What he needed, Erv Ederle thought, was one big— really big—score for his last take.
    What he needed, he realized, was a plan.
    Two days of close observation later, he had one. A really good one, he thought. And with a bit of luck he would not even need a gang to pull it off.

Chapter 2
    John Taylor reined to a stop in front of the shack he still kept in the hope that he would bring Jessie and Loozy back into it where they belonged. He sat on the Slash 3 7 horse for a moment before dismounting. Turning to the youngster beside him, he said, “Care to come in for a snort? I have a piece of a bottle laid by for emergencies like this.”
    The boy, who went by the moniker Dink, shook his head. “Thanks but I got t’ get these horses back to the ranch.” He smiled and added, “Before Coosie bars the door an’ quits serving up grub.”
    â€œAll right. Suit yerself.” Taylor swung his huge frame off the animal and quickly stripped the horse of his saddle and bridle. He clipped a lead rope to the halter and handed the end to Dink. “Listen here for a minute.”
    â€œYes, sir?”
    â€œI was watching you today. You’re good with them cow critters. You’ll be drawing top-hand pay here direc’ly. Count on it.” He dropped his saddle onto the stoop in front of the door and rubbed his left shoulder where a cow had hit him a glancing blow with an unexpected kick earlier in the day.
    â€œD’you mean that, Mr. Taylor?” The boy looked pleased.
    â€œIt’s John, boy. Nobody named me Mister. An’ yes. I do mean it. You got the makings of a right fine hand.” He smiled and extended his hand to shake.
    â€œThank you, Mi . . . I mean, John. Thanks a lot.” He grinned and tightened up on his reins to back his horse away a few paces, Taylor’s borrowed mount following.
    â€œGet on back now before you miss out on your supper.”
    Dink touched the brim of his floppy old hat in farewell and reined his horse back toward the Slash 3 7, dragging along with him the animal Taylor had ridden into town.
    Taylor shouldered his tack and carried it inside. Jessie always insisted that he keep his saddle on the porch, but John worried that would allow mice to get after the leather. Now that she was gone he kept it inside where it belonged.
    He stared at the long cold stove and considered what he might cook. If he still had anything in the place that was fit to eat. He had been gone eight days working for Tweed out at the Slash 3 7 and had no idea what he had in the place to eat at this point.
    Which was all the excuse he needed.
    Taylor pumped some cold water into the copper sink and made quick work of washing away the dust he had collected on the ride in with Dink. He changed to a reasonably clean shirt, battered the road dust off his britches, and headed for Frenchie’s Place.
    â€œH’lo, John,” Finnegan greeted him. “Beer?”
    â€œDamn right. I’m parched.” He hooked a boot onto the brass rail that ran along the floor in front of the bar and planted his elbows on the countertop.
    â€œWhere’ve you been, John?” Finnegan asked as he reached for a mug and shoved it under a spigot.
    â€œWorking.” He grinned. “So’s I can pay your outrageous prices.”
    â€œGood. Be all right with me if you just hand overwhatever you got paid.” Finnegan winked. “Or I can take it a bit at a time. You want some chili with that beer?”
    â€œThat’s the best offer I’ve had in a while.”
    Finnegan stuck his head through the door into the back of the place and yelled, “That big ape is here and he’s wanting some of your best chili.”
    John heard some laughter from the