Trouble Shooter (1974) Read Online Free
Author: Louis - Hopalong 04 L'amour
K. evenas, manager. He got up, glanced at the register, then handed Hopalong a key. It was number eighteen. "That'll be two dollars," he said with a smirk. "Cash in advance."
Hopalong Cassidy handed over the two dollars and then asked, "How about grub? Is that place down the street the only place?"
The clerk nodded. "It is, but the food is good. It's quite a sight, noontime. Half the town comes out when they ring the triangle. Big social event of the day."
"Nice place you've got here," Hopalong suggested. "Who owns it?"
'Tredway," the clerk said with a sour expression. "He owns most everything around here."
"Well," Hopalong suggested, "when he landed here, there
must have been land for the taking. A man could do all right then, if he was careful and used his head."
The clerk gave him a sly, sidelong glance. "Or if you were tough enough," he said. "Believe me, it isn't so easy anymore. Tredway owns everything around here that isn't nailed down. I give him credit," he added grudgingly. "He didn't let nothing stop him."
"Some make it that way." Hopalong Cassidy waited, hoping the clerk would continue to talk. "Maybe we'll make ours someday."
The clerk straightened and his eyes hardened. "I don't know about you," he said, "but I got mine! All I got to do is collect!"
He would say no more, and after a little while Hopalong picked up his war bag and started up the stairs. Glancing back, he saw the clerk was down on his knees in the empty corner behind the desk. Now, what was the man doing there? Had he dropped something?
While he bathed and shaved, Hopalong considered the situation with care. He had learned little, but more and more he was becoming aware that this was Tredway's town. It would pay a man to go easy here.
He had parted company with Rig Taylor on the outskirts of Kachina and they had entered separately. Since then he had seen nothing more of the cowhand.
Pete Melford's ranch had vanished, and apparently into the greater mass of Tredway's holdings. It was imperative to learn just when Tredway had come to Kachina and what he had done here. It also might be interesting to know where he came from.
That was a question rarely asked in the West, but Hopalong had no intention of asking it. There were other means of finding out. He was an outsider in Kachina, having little excuse to remain in the area for long; however, if he had a riding job, it might give him a chance to learn a great deal. A riding job with Tredway's own Box T. He grinned at the thought. And why not? He would then be in a position to hear any talk there might be and to ride the Box T range.
At the corner of the hotel farthest from the street, the man known as Colonel Tredway was at that moment opening the door of his suite to his foreman.
Bill Saxx was a big man, brawny and tough. Handsome in a hard, capable way, he was known locally as a gun handler. A gifted leader of men, he was brutal and cunning as well, entirely without mercy or conscience; he was a sharp instrument in the hands of Tredway. Moreover, the two men understood each other, and of those who knew what went on around Kachina, Saxx was the only one who realized the extent to which Tredway was involved or the part he played in it. But even Bill Saxx did not know the beginning of the story or all the motives that inspired or drove Justin Tredway.
"Carter an' some of the boys ran into two hombres over on the Picket Fork today."
Tredway received the information in silence. He had expected it ever since Cindy Blair and Rig Taylor had arrived in town, but two men?
'Taylor was one of them. Who was the other?"
"Don't know yet. He was a stranger. Ridin' a white horse. Finest horse he ever saw, accordin' to Carter. Rig was set to make a fight of it, but this other hombre pulled Rig away. Taylor said he'd been shot at by somebody."
"Shot at? He was probably trying to stir up trouble." Tred-way's voice was smooth. "Who would shoot at him?"
Saxx scowled. "I was wonderin' that myself. It
Hopalong Cassidy handed over the two dollars and then asked, "How about grub? Is that place down the street the only place?"
The clerk nodded. "It is, but the food is good. It's quite a sight, noontime. Half the town comes out when they ring the triangle. Big social event of the day."
"Nice place you've got here," Hopalong suggested. "Who owns it?"
'Tredway," the clerk said with a sour expression. "He owns most everything around here."
"Well," Hopalong suggested, "when he landed here, there
must have been land for the taking. A man could do all right then, if he was careful and used his head."
The clerk gave him a sly, sidelong glance. "Or if you were tough enough," he said. "Believe me, it isn't so easy anymore. Tredway owns everything around here that isn't nailed down. I give him credit," he added grudgingly. "He didn't let nothing stop him."
"Some make it that way." Hopalong Cassidy waited, hoping the clerk would continue to talk. "Maybe we'll make ours someday."
The clerk straightened and his eyes hardened. "I don't know about you," he said, "but I got mine! All I got to do is collect!"
He would say no more, and after a little while Hopalong picked up his war bag and started up the stairs. Glancing back, he saw the clerk was down on his knees in the empty corner behind the desk. Now, what was the man doing there? Had he dropped something?
While he bathed and shaved, Hopalong considered the situation with care. He had learned little, but more and more he was becoming aware that this was Tredway's town. It would pay a man to go easy here.
He had parted company with Rig Taylor on the outskirts of Kachina and they had entered separately. Since then he had seen nothing more of the cowhand.
Pete Melford's ranch had vanished, and apparently into the greater mass of Tredway's holdings. It was imperative to learn just when Tredway had come to Kachina and what he had done here. It also might be interesting to know where he came from.
That was a question rarely asked in the West, but Hopalong had no intention of asking it. There were other means of finding out. He was an outsider in Kachina, having little excuse to remain in the area for long; however, if he had a riding job, it might give him a chance to learn a great deal. A riding job with Tredway's own Box T. He grinned at the thought. And why not? He would then be in a position to hear any talk there might be and to ride the Box T range.
At the corner of the hotel farthest from the street, the man known as Colonel Tredway was at that moment opening the door of his suite to his foreman.
Bill Saxx was a big man, brawny and tough. Handsome in a hard, capable way, he was known locally as a gun handler. A gifted leader of men, he was brutal and cunning as well, entirely without mercy or conscience; he was a sharp instrument in the hands of Tredway. Moreover, the two men understood each other, and of those who knew what went on around Kachina, Saxx was the only one who realized the extent to which Tredway was involved or the part he played in it. But even Bill Saxx did not know the beginning of the story or all the motives that inspired or drove Justin Tredway.
"Carter an' some of the boys ran into two hombres over on the Picket Fork today."
Tredway received the information in silence. He had expected it ever since Cindy Blair and Rig Taylor had arrived in town, but two men?
'Taylor was one of them. Who was the other?"
"Don't know yet. He was a stranger. Ridin' a white horse. Finest horse he ever saw, accordin' to Carter. Rig was set to make a fight of it, but this other hombre pulled Rig away. Taylor said he'd been shot at by somebody."
"Shot at? He was probably trying to stir up trouble." Tred-way's voice was smooth. "Who would shoot at him?"
Saxx scowled. "I was wonderin' that myself. It
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