The Pinkerton Job Read Online Free Page A

had.
    Siringo slid between the sheets. It felt too good after so many days on the trail, and tomorrow night he’d be back on the hard ground. He didn’t know whether to sleep on the floor, or go ahead and enjoy the mattress for the one night. Before he could make up his mind, he fell asleep.

EIGHT
    When Clint came down to the lobby the next morning, he found Siringo waiting for him. Charlie was wearing the same clothes he’d had on the day before. He obviously hadn’t had a chance to bathe, or buy clean duds.
    â€œHow’s Horn?” he asked.
    â€œHe was okay last night,” Siringo said. “Ate a big steak, had a few drinks, then fell right to sleep.”
    â€œHe’s going to be stiff this morning.”
    â€œI know,” Siringo said, “but I learned a long time ago never to underestimate him. Besides, he’s younger than we are.”
    Both Siringo and Horn were younger than Clint, but Horn was the one who was not yet thirty. Maybe that would work in his favor when it came to healing.
    â€œLet’s get some breakfast,” Siringo said. “Then we can bring him some eggs and see how he’s doin’.”
    The hotel didn’t have a dining room so Siringo took Clint to the same café he had gotten Horn’s steak from. The waiter there told him not to worry about the tray; someone from the hotel would bring it back.
    They got seated among the other diners. Clint had his usual steak and eggs while Horn went for bacon and eggs. When the waiter set a basket of hot biscuits on the table, they both attacked them.
    â€œTell me about Sandusky,” Clint said.
    â€œHe’s a hard man,” Siringo said. “Forty or so, been on his own a long time. No relatives. He’s a killer, and he’s crafty. Up to now nobody’s been able to catch him.”
    â€œWe’re going to change that,” Clint said. “What about his men?”
    â€œHe grabs ’em where he can,” Siringo said. “The only one who rides with him all the time is a fella named Cal Anderson.”
    â€œDon’t know him.”
    â€œThey’re friends, been ridin’ together since the war,” Siringo said.
    â€œThat’s a long time.”
    â€œThe others come and go,” Siringo said. “Sometimes Sandusky and Anderson just get rid of them.”
    â€œKill them, you mean?”
    Siringo nodded.
    â€œWhen they get tired of sharin’ the proceeds of their jobs,” Siringo said. “That’s what I hear anyway.”
    â€œYou wonder what makes anybody follow someone like that,” Clint said.
    â€œThey all think it won’t happen to them,” Siringo said. “They think they’ll get rich and ride away, but a lot of them don’t make it in time.”
    â€œWho sent you out on this job, Charlie?”
    â€œWilliam.”
    â€œStill running the Chicago branch?”
    â€œPretty much. Him and Robert are runnin’ the whole agency.”
    â€œHow do you think he’ll react when he hears about me?” Clint asked.
    â€œI ain’t gonna tell ’im,” Siringo said. “Not yet anyway. If I do, it’ll be after the job is over.”
    They finished their breakfast and washed it down with a last cup of coffee.
    â€œOkay,” Siringo said, “we better go up and see how Horn’s doin’.”
    They got a plate of bacon and eggs, a mug, and a pot of coffee and headed up to Tom Horn’s room.
    *   *   *
    Tom Horn couldn’t move.
    He woke up lying on his good side, opened his eyes, and looked around. He didn’t try to move right away. He felt all right if he lay perfectly still. The next step would be to try to move.
    First he used his hand to feel his thigh. It was still wrapped tightly, and as he ran his fingers over the skin, he could feel his fingertips. That was good. The doctor told him to come back if the leg felt numb. Next, he tried to