Sidewinders Read Online Free Page A

smaller creek. They turned and headed west, following the stream toward the Star C headquarters, which lay a couple of miles in that direction.
    â€œYou don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to,” Bo said. “You’ve got family to visit, too.”
    The old Morton home place lay on the other side of Bear Creek, several miles away. Both of Scratch’s parents had passed away, but his sister and her family lived there now, and he had a brother close by, as well.
    â€œThere’ll be plenty of time to visit once we get this mess squared away,” Scratch said. “We’re not in the habit of splittin’ up when one of us is in trouble unless there’s no way around it.”
    â€œWell, I appreciate that. I hope it won’t take very long to put things right.”
    They began seeing cattle grazing almost right away. John Creel still ran some longhorns, but he had brought in Herefords and Angus as well to strengthen his herd. Some cattlemen resisted change, but John had always been open to experimenting with things to make his operation better.
    â€œThose are some fat, healthy-lookin’ beeves,” Scratch commented. “Appears that the spring roundup ought to be a good one.”
    â€œThat’s because the drought hasn’t been as bad here as it was up north,” Bo said. Most of the upper half of Texas was scorched and dry because of lack of rainfall, leading to conditions that had caused a giant wildfire in which both of the trail partners had almost perished a few weeks earlier. Bo nodded at the fields they were passing and went on, “Everything’s a lot greener down here.”
    â€œYeah, and it’s a pretty sight, too—”
    Scratch’s words stopped short at the sight of several men on horseback emerging from a stand of trees about a hundred yards away.
    â€œThat must be some of your pa’s riders,” Scratch continued. “I expect they’ll be glad to see you—”
    His voice came to an abrupt halt again as the riders kicked their mounts into motion and started galloping toward the two drifters. Shots began to pop, and powder smoke spurted into the air from gun muzzles.

CHAPTER 4
    Scratch let out a startled curse as he and Bo hauled back on their reins.
    â€œThey don’t seem too fond of us here, either,” Bo said. “Come on!”
    He wheeled his mount and raced toward a wooded knob about a quarter of a mile away. He remembered that elevation well. When he and Scratch were young, they had waited up there with long-barreled, muzzle-loading flintlock rifles and shot wild turkeys that Scratch would call up with an uncannily accurate gobbling sound. Those birds had put food on the table for the Morton and Creel families more than once.
    Bo and Scratch had snuck up there with jugs of corn liquor, too, and every now and then they’d even been able to persuade young ladies to accompany them to the top of Turkey Mountain, as they called it, for some sparking.
    The important thing at the moment was that the knob was the highest ground around here. If they could reach the top, they could throw a few carefully aimed Winchester rounds over the heads of their pursuers and make the men back off. Bo didn’t want to hurt anybody who rode for his father if he could help it.
    â€œWhy’d they start throwin’ lead at us?” Scratch called over the pounding rataplan of hoofbeats. “They weren’t close enough to recognize you!”
    â€œDon’t know!” Bo replied. Scratch was right: this couldn’t be the same sort of misunderstanding that they had run into in the settlement.
    But no matter what had prompted the attack, Bo didn’t want to let the men get any closer. So far they were just wasting bullets by blazing away with handguns, but if they stopped and pulled out rifles it might be a different story.
    The drifters were mounted on strong, speedy horses, and they