the Empty Land (1969) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Louis L'amour
appeared, charging up in a cloud of dust from pounding hoofs. One was young, aggressive, and somewhat arrogant. The second man was nearing fifty, with careful blue eyes that missed nothing. He had a look of seasoned toughness about him.
"You all right?" he asked the girl.
"Mr. Coburn helped me. I'm afraid I rode into trouble, Joss."
"Coburn?" The young one turned sharply for a better look. "Matt Coburn?"
"That's the name," Matt replied, then ignored him. He knew the type. A tied-down gun and some swagger about him. A fresh one who had yet to learn that it needs more than a gun to make a gunfighter.
"It's all right," Coburn told the older man. "No trouble."
"Where are they? Did you shoot 'em?" That was the younger one again, asking questions instead of listening and learning.
"Why shoot them?"
"You mean they just gave you the cattle? That was Kid Curtis and Skin Weber. I got close enough to spot 'em."
"They misread the brands," Coburn replied solemnly. `They said they were sorry."
"Sorry? An' you let 'em get away? Why, I'd have " "Got yourself shot more'n likely." The older man was patient. "Thank you, Coburn. You saved us some grief." "Pot nada," Coburn said, smiling. "I'll be riding on." "Wait," the girl said quickly. I'm Laurie Shannon, and I own the Rafter LS. We don't have much of an outfit yet, but we set a good table. Will you come along and take potluck with us?"
She indicated the older man. "This is Joss Ringgold, and ... Freeman Dorset."
"Howdy."
Ringgold ... he knew the name. A salty old-timer who would stand hitched, but there was trouble in the young one. If he could keep that gun in his holster until he was old enough to know when to use it, he might live as long as Ringgold, but Coburn would have taken no bets on it. "There's no place to eat within twenty miles," Joss suggested, "unless you go back to Confusion."
Coburn hesitated, for he had learned to be wary of human relationships. He had learned the hard way that men could not be trusted too much. All men and women were sadly, weakly human. They were inclined to expect more than they were likely to get, and to expect it to come easier.
"All right," he said, and immediately regretted it. He had often made a lonely camp, and had not minded it too much. He could have done so again.
There was trouble in the quiet, strong young beauty of Laurie Shannon, and there was trouble in Dorset. About Joss Ringgold he had no worries. He and Ringgold spoke the same language, they had eaten the dust, felt the rain, branded calves on the open grass, and they had bitten on the bullet.
Meanwhile, back in Confusion, circumstances were moving men on the chessboard to involve Matt Coburn. For there are, in the affairs of men and nations, inexorable tides from which they cannot remain aloof. If they do not enter upon them prepared, they will be caught unprepared, and at the wrong time.
All Matt Coburn wanted just now was a good meal, and by such small motives are the lives of men altered.
Chapter 4
By evening of the seventh day there were five tent saloons in Confusion, and two frame buildings were under construction. There were three stores, a blacksmith shop, a tent theatre, two tent hotels, and about three dozen dugouts, shacks, and tents for private residences. At least a hundred men were camping without shelter.
After a meeting at Gage's place the council had chosen a marshal, a respected, well-liked soldier named McGuinness.
Outside on the street, Felton said, "Well, Dan, I feel better now. Well have some law. McGuinness is a good Mall."
Dan Cohan offered no comment, and Zeller and Buck-waiter were lighting their cigars. Finally Cohan did speak. "Hell be lucky," he said, |if he lasts out the week." Dick Felton stared at him. "Thats one hell of a thing to say!"
"Dan's right," Buckwalter said. "You don't know what's coming. McGuinness is too good a man to have this happen to him."
"To have what happen? What are you talking about?" "He isn't tough enough,
"You all right?" he asked the girl.
"Mr. Coburn helped me. I'm afraid I rode into trouble, Joss."
"Coburn?" The young one turned sharply for a better look. "Matt Coburn?"
"That's the name," Matt replied, then ignored him. He knew the type. A tied-down gun and some swagger about him. A fresh one who had yet to learn that it needs more than a gun to make a gunfighter.
"It's all right," Coburn told the older man. "No trouble."
"Where are they? Did you shoot 'em?" That was the younger one again, asking questions instead of listening and learning.
"Why shoot them?"
"You mean they just gave you the cattle? That was Kid Curtis and Skin Weber. I got close enough to spot 'em."
"They misread the brands," Coburn replied solemnly. `They said they were sorry."
"Sorry? An' you let 'em get away? Why, I'd have " "Got yourself shot more'n likely." The older man was patient. "Thank you, Coburn. You saved us some grief." "Pot nada," Coburn said, smiling. "I'll be riding on." "Wait," the girl said quickly. I'm Laurie Shannon, and I own the Rafter LS. We don't have much of an outfit yet, but we set a good table. Will you come along and take potluck with us?"
She indicated the older man. "This is Joss Ringgold, and ... Freeman Dorset."
"Howdy."
Ringgold ... he knew the name. A salty old-timer who would stand hitched, but there was trouble in the young one. If he could keep that gun in his holster until he was old enough to know when to use it, he might live as long as Ringgold, but Coburn would have taken no bets on it. "There's no place to eat within twenty miles," Joss suggested, "unless you go back to Confusion."
Coburn hesitated, for he had learned to be wary of human relationships. He had learned the hard way that men could not be trusted too much. All men and women were sadly, weakly human. They were inclined to expect more than they were likely to get, and to expect it to come easier.
"All right," he said, and immediately regretted it. He had often made a lonely camp, and had not minded it too much. He could have done so again.
There was trouble in the quiet, strong young beauty of Laurie Shannon, and there was trouble in Dorset. About Joss Ringgold he had no worries. He and Ringgold spoke the same language, they had eaten the dust, felt the rain, branded calves on the open grass, and they had bitten on the bullet.
Meanwhile, back in Confusion, circumstances were moving men on the chessboard to involve Matt Coburn. For there are, in the affairs of men and nations, inexorable tides from which they cannot remain aloof. If they do not enter upon them prepared, they will be caught unprepared, and at the wrong time.
All Matt Coburn wanted just now was a good meal, and by such small motives are the lives of men altered.
Chapter 4
By evening of the seventh day there were five tent saloons in Confusion, and two frame buildings were under construction. There were three stores, a blacksmith shop, a tent theatre, two tent hotels, and about three dozen dugouts, shacks, and tents for private residences. At least a hundred men were camping without shelter.
After a meeting at Gage's place the council had chosen a marshal, a respected, well-liked soldier named McGuinness.
Outside on the street, Felton said, "Well, Dan, I feel better now. Well have some law. McGuinness is a good Mall."
Dan Cohan offered no comment, and Zeller and Buck-waiter were lighting their cigars. Finally Cohan did speak. "Hell be lucky," he said, |if he lasts out the week." Dick Felton stared at him. "Thats one hell of a thing to say!"
"Dan's right," Buckwalter said. "You don't know what's coming. McGuinness is too good a man to have this happen to him."
"To have what happen? What are you talking about?" "He isn't tough enough,
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