The Last Trail Drive Read Online Free Page B

step behind him.
    Â 
    Flood talked more with Spud Johnson, assuring him that the chuckwagon would be properly outfitted for the trip. Johnson then went to talk to the owner of the saloon to explain that he was leaving.
    â€œAfter all,” he said to Flood, “this was supposed to be a temporary job.”
    â€œThe herd is just west of town, Spud,” Flood said. “See you there early tomorrow.”
    â€œFirst light, Boss,” Spud said. “I’ll be there at first light.”
    Johnson came out from behind the bar to find the saloon owner.
    â€œI better go and find Jack,” Flood said. “He’s the type to sulk and brood.”
    â€œHe’s mad that you hired Spud.”
    â€œHe’ll get over it.”
    â€œAnd he doesn’t want me along.”
    â€œHe’ll get over that, too. He hired all the other men. He’ll have to give me two. After all, I am the boss.”
    â€œI’ll come with you to find him,” Clint said. “In his mood he might be getting himself into trouble.”
    â€œAh, if he gets into a fight he’ll just be blowing off some steam, but come ahead.”
    Together, they left the saloon.

NINE
    They didn’t find Jack Trevor until they reached the livery stable. At that point they’d pretty much been all over town.
    â€œWhy would he come here?” Clint asked. “He can’t get into trouble here.”
    â€œMaybe not,” Flood said, “but he might have wanted to check on his horse.”
    â€œI never knew a cowboy to put store in one horse. Not when he had a remuda to pick from?”
    â€œJack likes this particular horse for some reason. Well, you know all about havin’ special feelings for a horse—first Duke, now this monster that you ride.”
    The livery seemed empty, except for the horses in the stalls. And the feet Clint saw sticking out of an empty stall.
    â€œHank!”
    He hurried to the stall, followed by Flood. He leaned over the body and turned the man over.
    â€œIs it—” Flood said.
    â€œYeah,” Clint said, “Trevor. Somebody stabbed him in the back.”
    â€œDamn it, Jack!”
    Clint stood up and stepped away so Flood could check for himself.
    â€œDamn it, kid,” Flood said, bowing his head.
    â€œI’m sorry, Hank,” Clint said. “I’ll go and find the law after I take a look around and make sure whoever did this isn’t still here.”
    â€œI can take care of that,” Flood said. “Go find the sheriff, Clint.”
    â€œAny idea who might have done this?” Clint asked.
    Flood stood up.
    â€œWhy would I?”
    â€œYou know Jack,” Clint said. “He has a temper, right?”
    â€œIf he ran into somebody and got into a fight, how am I supposed to know who it was?”
    â€œWhat if it was somebody following him,” Clint asked. “Somebody who new him, and had a grudge.”
    â€œYou mean one of my men?”
    â€œCould be, right?”
    â€œCould be anybody,” Flood said. “How about that law?”
    â€œI’ll find him.”
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    While Clint was gone Flood went through Jack Trevor’s pockets. He’d given the man money to buy supplies. Whatever was left was rightfully his, but try explaining that to a lawman.
    He looked around for Trevor’s horse, found it standing in a storm, undisturbed. It also belonged to him.
    That done, he returned to the body. He was saddened by the murder or Jack Trevor, but he had to act like a trail boss, too. Now he was not only going to have to replace a man, but his segundo, as well. And there were slim pickings in town.
    He could only think of one man to replace him.
    Â 
    Clint found the sheriff’s office, with the sheriff in it. The man was sitting at a rolltop desk that was set up flush against one wall.
    â€œHelp ya?” The sheriff was a sleepy-looking fifty, blood-shot, heavy-lidded eyes that indicated lack