Under a Turquoise Sky Read Online Free Page B

yourself a friendly game, I see.”
    â€œMaybe not so friendly,” Clint said. He signaled the bartender for a beer.
    â€œWhataya mean?”
    â€œYou know any of those players?”
    â€œTwo of ’em,” Cafferty said. “Herb Olands owns the mercantile, and Jerry Hill runs the livery.”
    â€œI thought I recognized him,” Clint said. His memory of arriving in town and putting Eclipse up at the livery was hazy. “You don’t know the other two?”
    â€œNo better than I know you,” the man said. “One rode into town early yesterday, the other the day before.”
    â€œThe one who arrived first, he play any poker that you know of before the other one got here?” He asked the question knowing that a good lawman would be keeping an eye on strangers.
    â€œNow that you mention it, no.” Cafferty put his mug down on the bar. “Why? Are they cheatin’?”
    â€œDepends on what you call cheating,” Clint said. “They’re playing together.”
    â€œI call that cheatin’. Can you prove it?”
    â€œWatch the game when I go back,” Clint said, and explained the scam to the lawman so he’d know what to look for.
    Clint drank about half his beer and then returned to the game.
    Â 
    For the next hour or so the sheriff watched and saw what Clint Adams was talking about. The two merchants were being scammed, all right. Whenever the two strangers launched one of their bids, Clint would fold, sit back and wait. Finally, the sheriff had seen enough.
    He walked over to the table and stood next to one of the strangers. After a moment, the man looked up at him.
    â€œLooks like you’re doin’ pretty well for yourself,” Cafferty said to the man.
    â€œUh, I’m doin’ okay.”
    This was a man named Tim Bailey. He was in his late twenties. The other man was called Frank Anderson, in his forties and probably the mentor of the first man. He was obviously the more experienced of the two.
    â€œYeah, I’m doin’ okay,” Anderson said to the sheriff. “What about it, Sheriff?”
    â€œI think you boys better come with me.”
    â€œWhat for?” Anderson asked.
    â€œWe’re gonna have a little talk outside.”
    Bailey looked over at Anderson, who gave him an almost imperceptible nod.
    â€œOkay,” Anderson said. He looked at Bailey. “You see anythin’ wrong with havin’ a little talk, mister?”
    â€œI guess not.”
    â€œI’ll just gather up my money—” Anderson said, but the sheriff cut him off.
    â€œThat’s okay,” he said. “Just leave it on the table.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œYou won’t need it.”
    â€œWhataya talkin’ about?” Anderson demanded. “It’s my money.”
    â€œNot anymore.”
    As if he thought nobody could see him, Bailey started picking up his money from the table. Cafferty dropped a hand on his shoulder.
    â€œThat’s okay, friend,” he said. “Just leave it.”
    Bailey tensed, looked across the table and made a big mistake. “Frank?” he said.
    â€œShut up!”
    â€œLet’s go, boys,” the sheriff said. “We don’t take kindly to poker cheats in this town. I think we’ll just walk over to the livery, saddle your horses and you can be on your way.”
    â€œI’m not leavin’ without my money,” Anderson announced.
    â€œIt’s not your money,” Cafferty said, “it’s theirs.” He put his hand on his gun. “Now put your guns on the table and stand up.”
    Anderson dropped his right hand below the table, made like he was going to stand and then went for his gun.

SEVEN
    Clint drew his gun and pressed it to the side of the man’s neck.
    â€œI wouldn’t.” He lifted the man’s gun from his holster. “Now do like the sheriff said and stand up. You, too,” he said to