Collection 1989 - Long Ride Home (v5.0) Read Free Page A

part of my money back, but they’d already divvied up.”
    Bull Run Allen scowled. “Describe the gamblers,” he ordered.
    At the Kid’s description his eyes narrowed. “I know ’em. That gent who called himself Harper was Banker Barber, one of the slickest around here. Starrett—I can’t figure that play. Starrett works society. He only plays for big money.”

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    S USPICION WAS ALIVE in his eyes as he studied the Kid. Seeing it, the Cactus Kid gambled. “Say, maybe that explains it! They were hunting somebody else an’ got me by mistake! They seemed to think I had money, tried to get me to bet higher. Shucks,” the Kid smiled innocently, “I’ve never had more’n a hundred and twenty dollars at one time!”
    Bull Run Allen was not convinced. He wanted a look inside that carpetbag. On the other hand this youngster might be telling the truth and while they talked a rich prize might be getting away.
    Bull Run stepped to the door and yelled to a man to send up One-Ear Tim. The manager and bouncer was a burly character with one ear missing and a scarred face.
    â€œGet hold o’ the Banker,” Bull Run ordered. “I want a talk with him.” He grinned at the Kid as Tim walked away. “Now we’ll find out about this here.”
    The Cactus Kid got to his feet. “Sorry I won’t have time to wait,” he said. “I’m heading for the Palace Hotel. You can see me there.”
    Allen gave vent to a fat chuckle of amusement. “Don’t think I couldn’t,” he said, “but you sit still. We’ll talk to the Banker first.”
    â€œNo,” the Kid replied quietly, “I can’t wait.” In his hand he held a .44 Colt. “You come with me, Bull Run. Only you go first.”
    Allen’s eyes grew ugly. “You can’t get away with this!” he sneered. “I ain’t goin’ nowheres, so go ahead an’ shoot. No durned kid can—” he lunged, both hands spread wide.
    The Cactus Kid was in his element. He struck down Allen’s reaching left and smashed the barrel of his Colt over the big man’s ear, and Allen hit the floor as if dropped from a roof. Quickly, the Kid stepped outside to the balcony. Still clutching the carpetbag with his left hand, his right hovering near the butt of his .44, he walked down the stairs to the brawling room below, crowded with gamblers and drinkers.
    Almost at the door he ran into Tim. The bouncer stopped him. “Where you goin’? The boss wanted you to talk to the Banker.”
    â€œHe wanted the Banker himself,” the Kid said shortly. “Hurry it up, he’s already sore.”
    Tim stared hard at him, but stepped aside, and the Kid walked out into the dark street. Turning left he walked swiftly for a dozen steps then crossed the street and ducked into a dark alley. A few minutes later he arrived at the Palace Hotel.

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    I T WAS BROAD day when he awakened. While he bathed and shaved, he thought about his situation. Whoever had tipped the Banker and Starrett to the fact that he carried money must have been close to MacIntosh.
    Two attempts had been made to get the money from him and it was likely that two groups now searched for him, only now both groups not only wanted the money but to kill him as well. Allen would not take that pistol blow without retaliation. He dared not—not in this town.
    In a town where a man could be murdered for a drink, where it was the proud boast of many that “anything goes,” daylight would not end the search for him. Allen had not been boasting when he said his reach included the Palace. So, figure it this way: Bull Run Allen knew where he was. He would know within a matter of minutes of the time the Kid left the hotel. Even in such a fine place as the Palace was, men could be found who would give information for money.
    The Kid’s safest bet was to get word to MacIntosh