Spanish Gold Read Online Free Page A

interested.”
    â€œGold,” said Crockett. “We don’t even have to dig it up. It’s there for the taking. Waiting for us.”
    â€œNo thanks,” said Travis. He dropped a dollar on the table, knowing that the old prospector would pick it up. That was why he’d done it. Give the old man money for something to eat without really handing him charity. With that, he headed for the door. As he stepped out into the bright sunlight, he heard Crockett say to the bartender, “Bring me another drink and I’ll tell you all about the gold.”

Chapter Four
Sweetwater, Texas
August 7, 1863
    The room hadn’t been worth the price. The mattress had been little more than a sack stuffed with straw, the walls had been so thin that every noise from the hallway and every word spoken on the street had drifted up to him. The air inside had been heavy with humidity and had failed to circulate, making it difficult to sleep. Just lying on the bed and staring up at the ceiling had been enough to work up a sweat even after Travis had removed most of his clothes.
    The hot desert air blew in the open window. There was a dull, flickering light from outside, and the noise boiling up from the saloon kept him awake. Men were shouting at one another. Arguments about the war in the East, or the desert in the West, or the Indians everywhere. Travis rolled to his side, glanced at the window, and then closed his eyes. He tried to ignore the sounds and the heat.
    Later, light pouring through the window woke him. He sat up and looked out. The heat hadn’t broken during the night and neither had the humidity. He rubbed a hand over his face and then wiped the sweat on the soaked mattress cover. Standing, he walked to the window and looked out and down.
    A single horse was hitched to the rail in front of the saloon. The place was still open, the arguments still going but quieter now, and Travis wondered if the bartender ever slept.
    He turned away from the window and walked to the water basin set on the top of a chest. He poured water from a pitcher in it, splashed the tepid liquid on his face, and then dried himself on the small cotton towel.
    There was no reason to shave, especially since he didn’t have a sharp razor. He’d wait until he could find a barber. He dressed and then looked at the pistol in its black leather holster.
    Downstairs he was directed into the restaurant. It looked to be an afterthought. Those who had built the hotel realized that the travelers were going to need food, so they had cobbled the restaurant to the side of the building. The floor was bare wooden planks, the walls had been painted once, but the color had faded. A single door led out into the street, and it stood open. One of the two windows on either side of it was broken and had been repaired with greased paper.
    There were three tables, each surrounded by four chairs but no linen. There were lamps on each of the walls with soot marks above them on the ceiling.
    Travis entered and took the table closest to the window so that he could watch the street. He wasn’t looking for anyone or anything in particular, but then, he never knew what he might see out there. It was a way of avoiding unpleasant surprises.
    A girl, no more than twenty, appeared. Her brown hair was pinned up, although a few strands had escaped. She wore a stained apron and there was a smear of flour along her jaw line. Sweat was beaded on her upper lip. She looked as if she had already put in a full day.
    â€œBreakfast?” she asked.
    â€œWith..?”
    â€œYou get what we got. A steak, some eggs, and a few potatoes. We got coffee and we got some milk if it ain’t spoiled yet.”
    â€œWhatever,” said Travis.
    While he waited, he watched the street. A skinny dog walked along it and then darted around a building, disappearing down the alley. One man then staggered out of the saloon, held a hand up to shade his eyes as if surprised by