Way of the Gun (9781101597804) Read Online Free

first while the others rode the perimeter to keep the cows contained. By the time Carson returned, the second shift of drovers was eating, so he joined them. Carrying his plate of beans and bacon and his cup of hot coffee, he settled himself down beside Lute to eat. “There were four of ’em headin’ up in the hills,” he told the old man. “I didn’t see any more.”
    â€œMuch obliged,” Lute said. He knew full well that they would have been four lost head were it not for Carson’s help. “I ’preciate it, young feller. I had my hands full.”
    â€œWeren’t no trouble,” Carson replied.
    Sitting cross-legged several yards away, Jack Varner was becoming more irritated with each compliment he heard paid to Carson. Rufus and Johnny were the point men, but it seemed to Jack that they ran everything by him for his opinion. “Yeah, Pig,” he blurted, “you and ol’ Lute make up about one good man between you. I wonder how many head we really lost.”
    â€œMaybe Duke oughta put you to ridin’ drag, Varner, so we wouldn’t lose no more,” Lute came back. “You’re such a top cowpuncher.”
    â€œIt don’t take much to beat you and ol’ Pig there,” Varner said.
    â€œWhy don’t you two knock it off?” Marvin complained. He nodded toward Carson then. “You done a good job, Carson.”
    â€œYeah, you done a good job, Pig,” Varner commented sarcastically.
    â€œI expect you’re about done with that.” The calm statement, without emotion, interrupted the banter. “My name’s Carson Ryan. I’ll answer to either Carson or Ryan. That ought not be too hard for a body to remember, even you.”
    Suddenly a dead silence fell over the circle of cowpunchers. It lasted for only a few moments, however, before Varner replied, “What the hell did you say?”
    Marvin, tickled by the young man’s show of backbone, answered for him. “You heard what he said, Varner. I know I heard him.” He turned to Rufus sitting close by. “Didn’t you hear what he said, Rufus?” He turned back to Varner then. “He said you better not call him Pig no more.”
    â€œIs that so?” Varner responded angrily, incensed that Marvin appeared to be taking Carson’s side of it. “Well, Pig might as well learn that I’ll call him anythin’ I damn well please.” He pointed his finger at Carson and demanded, “What the hell are you gonna do about it? We can settle it quick enough—fists, knives, guns, any way you want it.”
    â€œAh, hell,” Marvin said, “why don’t you back off? You’re twice his size. It won’t be no fair fight.”
    A belligerent smile crossed Varner’s face. “Well, he don’t have to fight if he ain’t man enough to back up his mouth. But he’s gonna have to apologize to me and tell me he likes being called Pig.”
    Still baffled by Varner’s apparent irritation with him, Carson realized that, whatever the reason, it was going to have to be settled, and the sooner the better. “I don’t know what I did that stuck in your craw, but it looks like you ain’t gonna be satisfied till we go at it. Since you’re givin’ me a choice of weapons, I’ll pick tree limbs.”
    His selection took everyone by surprise. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?” Varner demanded. “Tree limbs?”
    â€œTree limbs,” Carson repeated.
    â€œI ain’t never heard of such a thing,” Varner snorted. “You’re just tryin’ to wriggle out of a good ass kickin’.”
    â€œYou know, Varner, you’re a dumb son of a bitch, but you oughta be able to figure this out.” Carson glanced over at the trees on the creek bank. “We’ll both get us a limb offa one of those trees.” When Varner started to question again,