Trouble Shooter (1974) Read Online Free Page B

very still and watched the man walk away from them. Pres was a stocky man with decided knee action when he walked; he had dirty blond hair that curled over his shirt collar. He was shabbily dressed, but his gun looked to be in good shape. The holster and belt had been freshly oiled.
    He waited for the man behind him to move, but he did not. Cassidy sat there, becoming acutely conscious of being stared at. He let himself start, as if awakening from a doze, and then he got to his feet, yawning. Turning, he saw the big man who stood behind him.
    Bill Saxx was well over six feet and his chest swelled the material of his shirt, stretching it taut over powerful pectorals. He was a handsome man, blond, with a wide face and thin lips. He had big hard hands and he wore two guns, his left-hand gun butt to the front, apparently for a right-hand draw. Hopalong Cassidy did not trust to appearances.
    Saxx stared at him from frosty gray eyes. "Stranger?" he asked.
    "Yeah." Hopalong smiled. "Name of Cameron. What outfit you with?"
    Bill Saxx studied him a minute before replying. "Box T," he said finally.
    "Need any hands out there?"
    Saxx studied him longer. "Might use a good man."
    "I rode for Shanghai Pierce, John Slaughter, and the XIT."
    "They were good outfits." Saxx studied him. "Know anybody around here?"
    "One hombre. Met him outside of town, though, and he seemed to be a stranger, too. Fellow named Rig Taylor."
    Saxx started inwardly. Then this was ... "Oh? So you're the hombre who was trespassin' yesterday? I heard about that."
    "Were they your boys?" Hopalong shrugged. "I'd no idea who they were, but I was afraid they were going to jump to conclusions. I was ridin' across country when I heard a horse, then I saw someone all bedded down in the grass ready to shoot a man who was walking below. I took a shot at the ambusher to scare him."
    Saxx stared across the street. Then somebody had tried to kill Taylor! But who? Why? He shook his head irritably. "You did just right," he said, "but that doesn't mean it pays to butt into things that don't concern you. Ever do any brush poppin'?"
    "Sure." Hopalong shoved his hat back on his head. "I grew up in the Big Bend country. You got some riding work?"
    "Yeah. Plenty of it, an' some half-wild cattle back in that brush that don't want to come out."
    "That's a mean job, but if you want me, I'm your huckleberry." He hesitated. "How about paying me by the head? Turn the whole job over to me?"
    Bill Saxx hesitated. That might be the best way out. He had done some work in the chaparral, but the little he had done he'd definitely not liked. It would be easy to lose an eye back there
    in the brush, charging through it after cattle. And that would get this fellow out of the way, for if he went to work by the head, he would have to rustle hard to make a go of it.
    "I can't say," he said. "I'll have to talk to the Colonel." He grinned. His worst headache would be gone. "Stick around, Cameron. I'll talk to Tredway. I think we can get together."
    As Saxx walked away Hopalong's mind leaped ahead. No matter where those cattle were, there was every chance of a lot of mixed brands being among them. He might even find a few of the PM steers, for he knew how cattle strayed, and how once back in the brush, they might stay for years if they found grass and water. Moreover, while working cattle in the brush, he could not be seen and it would give him an excellent chance to do some scouting without anyone knowing the difference.
    Suddenly an idea came to him. There had been a covered wagon camped on the edge of town as he came in, and there had been a big dog lying there.
    He went down the steps into the street and walked swiftly along it to the edge of town. Rounding the corral corner, he went down the embankment to the creek bottom, where a willow-dotted meadow provided plenty of grass. Not far away he saw a Conestoga wagon and several oxen. A washing was hung out on the willows and a cook fire was going.
    A big