Wild Town Read Online Free

pinkish-tan shirt, with a black clip-on bowtie, and blue serge pants. The cuffs of the trousers were tucked carelessly into the tops of his boots. In Bugs’ book, he stacked up about the same—in appearance—as any county clown.
    His black, glossy hair was combed in a straight-back pompadour. His high-arched brows gave his face a droll, impish look. A long thin cigar was clamped between his white even teeth.
    He waved Bugs to one of the comfortable leather chairs, then sat himself down behind the desk. He said politely, “Like a drink? Well, how about a cigar, then?” And, then, when Bugs shook his head, “Now, that’s right. You’re a cigarette smoker, aren’t you?”
    He said it very carelessly, a man seemingly making conversation. But Bugs was sure that he wasn’t. He was saying that he had seen the two cigarette butts which Bugs had flipped onto the sidewalk.
    “Just got here, did you?” he went on, subdued amusement in his voice. “Sure hope I didn’t keep you waitin’. Nothing I hate worse than a fella that keeps another fella waitin’ on him.”
    “How about crooked cops?” said McKenna. “How do you feel about them?”
    “Well…which kind you mean? The jailbird kind? The kind that ain’t smart enough to stay out of the pen?” Ford grinned at him, narrow-eyed. “Made a little check-back on you, McKenna. You got quite a record.”
    “There’s nothing about grafting in it!”
    “Well, now, don’t you feel bad about it,” Ford said soothingly. “A man can’t do everything, and you damned sure done just about everything else.”
    “Look,” Bugs snarled. “What do you—”
    “How do you like our fair city, McKenna? Reg’lar little jool of the prairie, ain’t it? A city of homes, churches and people. How’d you like to be one with our upstandin’, God-fearing citizenry, them homely souls that ain’t no more interested in a dollar than I am in my right leg?”
    Bugs laughed in spite of himself. He remembered reluctantly that, however he might feel about Ford, he was indebted to him.
    The deputy joined in his laughter. “Now, that’s better,” he said. “You got no use for me, maybe. I got none for you, maybe. And maybe we’d both feel different if we could see the other fellow’s side. But I reckon that would kind of put us out of step with the world, and it ain’t really necessary. We can still do business together.”
    “What kind of business?”
    “There’s a big hotel here in town—you saw it, I guess. They need a house dick. Pretty good payin’ job, and you get your meals and room along with it. I think I can land it for you.”
    “Me? I could land a house dick’s job in a place like that?”
    “You ain’t listening.” Ford said reprovingly. “I said I could land it for you. Owner’s wife is a good friend of mine. Sorry I can’t say the same for him.”
    Bugs hesitated, chewing his lip. His head jerked in a curt negative. “I guess not. I guess I’d better not. I can’t get into any more trouble—I can’t, know what I mean? And if I was sneaked over on some guy, pushed down his throat—”
    “You won’t be. Won’t be no deception, a-tall. Fact is, if I got him figured right, he’ll hire you because you have got a sorry record. He ain’t been exactly no angel himself, see? And he’ll think a guy that comes clean with him must be on the level.”
    “But I wouldn’t be, is that it? That’s where you come in.”
    “Do I?” Ford examined the tip of his cigar. “You know what Confucius say, McKenna? Man with bare ass always have big mouth.”
    “There’s another one I like better,” Bugs said. “Many men drown in their own dung, but few die shouting for a doctor.”
    “Hey, now!” Ford seemed honestly delighted. “That’s all right! But about this hotel job, I ain’t askin’ you to be anything but on the level. Ain’t askin’ you to be, don’t want you to be. The most way you can help me is just to do what you should