Raw Land Read Online Free Page B

stopped in the door and called out, “Bring ’em up here!”
    Will waited two long minutes until he heard the sound of scuffling boots. He came up behind Pres, looked over his shoulder, saw the others assembled outside. Then he placed his foot in the middle of Pres’s back and shoved.
    Pres flew out the door, off balance, tripped, and sprawled on his face in the dirt beyond the porch.
    At the same time Will, rifle to shoulder, appeared in the door and said, “I’ve got nine shots in here. Anybody want to take a chance?”
    At that moment Milt stepped out of the kitchen door behind them, six-gun in hand, and drawled, “Go ahead and try it!”
    The Nine X crew was caught. They dropped their guns, and at that moment Becky brushed past Will. Pres had struggled to his feet, and now he saw Becky. Some of the color flushed out of his face as he saw her.
    Becky looked at him, her lip curled in contempt, and then she shifted her gaze to the rest of the crew.
    â€œTip, maybe you can tell me what this means. Or you, Wallie. Or you, Fred!”
    â€œIt was orders,” one of the punchers growled.
    Becky turned on Pres, her eyes blazing with wrath. “From you, I suppose, Pres?”
    Pres sneered at her. “That’s right. You think I’m goin’ to let that coyote get away with clubbin’ me with a chair when my back was turned like he did last night?” He looked balefully at Will and then back at Becky.
    Will saw that Becky was so furious she couldn’t speak. He drawled mildly, “That means you think you could take me in a fair fight, don’t it, Pres?”
    â€œAny time,” Pres sneered. “After I burned your place, I was goin’ to wait for you and prove it.”
    Will stepped past Becky and nodded to Pinky and held out his rifle to him. “You keep the customers in hand, Pinky.” Then he peeled off his coat, dropped it on the porch, and laid his hat carefully alongside.
    â€œI never disappoint anybody,” Will drawled gently as he stepped off the porch. “Least of all would I disappoint you, Pres.”
    Pres regarded him coldly. “You think I’d fight you with your men holdin’ a gun on my back?”
    â€œI think you’re goin’ to,” Will murmured. He walked slowly toward the Nine X foreman.
    â€œWait,” Pres said. “I admit you got me, Danning. It ain’t a fair fight, and I won’t have any of it.”
    For answer, Will lashed out with a blow that thudded loud in that noon stillness, and Pres sprawled on his back in the red dust. Slowly he pulled himself up on one elbow, shook his head, and made no effort to rise.
    Will turned to the Nine X crew and looked them over. They were a sheepish-looking lot, but they didn’t look like saddle bums.
    He said dryly, “You sure got a tough ramrod. He talks as nice a fight as any man I know.”
    Behind him, Will heard a soft scuffle in the dust, and he knew what was happening. To cover up his knowledge, to make it look as if he didn’t know, he went on rapidly. “What kind of an outfit are you, anyway? Did Case tell you to ride over here? I doubt it, because he’s in—”
    â€œLook out, Will!” Becky cried.
    Will looked at her, puzzled, but he braced himself. A second later Pres Milo’s hulking weight hit him in the back, and he went sprawling on his face in the dust. He landed lightly and rolled out of the way just as Pres kicked out at him. Will came to his feet, his gray eyes sultry, his mouth twisted in a crooked smile.
    â€œI thought I’d toll you into it if I turned my back, Pres. Now I aim to show your crew what a joker Case has got for a foreman. You remember seein’ a buckboard on the other side of the barn, Pres?”
    Pres stood there, breathing hard, unwilling to crowd the fight now that Will was on his feet. He didn’t answer.
    â€œI’ll show you,” Will murmured.