Kilkenny 03 - Kilkenny (v5.0) Read Free Page B

shoot heads off quail with his six-shooter.”
    “Been here long?”
    “Not very. About seven or eight months. She came in here and bought out old Dan Marable, but since she took over you’d never know the place. She’s built a big new house, new stables and has brought some new stock into the country. I’m afraid she’ll have trouble now, though, with this new outfit comin’ in.”
    Macy drank his coffee. “She’s running cattle on that country south and west of town, clear back to Comb Ridge. It’s good graze and she’ll do all right if she doesn’t have trouble with this new outfit.”
    When the sheriff had gone, Kilkenny’s attention went to the girl at the nearby table. He hesitated, wanting to speak to her, wanting to explain. But the information Macy had given him crowded out all else.
    Nita Riordan was here! Her brand was the KR, but he refused to let himself believe what that K might mean. Kilkenny and Riordan…but there were so many reasons why a particular brand might be used. Yet she would soon know he was here, and without doubt they would meet.
    The big man across the room was watching him and whispering to his companions. Unmindful of what it might mean, he arose and crossed to Laurie Webster’s table. “I beg your pardon, Miss Webster,” he said, “but I would like to apologize for causing you any discomfort back down the trail. The fight was forced on me.”
    “I know. And can you ever forgive me? To have it happen right before me…it was awful. But I do understand that you had to do it.”
    “Thanks.” He stepped back. “Maybe we’ll see each other again.”
    He walked out, conscious of the eyes of the three men. It was bright and sunny in the street and there was a fresh smell of hay, dust and warm lumber. It was time to get his supplies and go, yet he delayed, unwilling to leave so soon.
    Suppose Nita came into town this morning? Suppose even now, she was in one of the stores? Yet, if they did meet, what could he expect? He had to run away because he was afraid of what his guns might do to their love for each other, how inevitably he would some day be killed. At the time it had seemed the thing to do.
    Through the plains country his name had become a legend, a mysterious rider whose gun skill compared with that of Hickok, Thompson and Earp. He was said to be faster than Hardin, colder than Doc Halliday. Yet few knew him well enough to describe him, for he moved often and used many names.
    Partly concealed by the awning post and the shade of a huge cottonwood, he saw the three men come from the hotel and mount their horses. All wore the 4T brand. He watched them ride out, then he crossed to the Emporium and bought the supplies he needed. He crossed the bridge to west town and drew up at the livery stable.
    “Got a pack horse for sale?”
    “See Dolan. He’s the man with horses to sell.”
    Kilkenny hesitated. Dolan might know him. A lot of men had ridden with Sheridan, but the last thing he wanted was to be recognized in this town. Yet to pack the supplies he wanted he needed at least one more horse.
    The man indicated the corrals. “He might sell that paint.”
    The fellow got up, taking his pipe from his mouth. He was a small man with work-hardened hands. “Seen the marshal yet?”
    “Macy? Yes, I’ve seen him.”
    “He’s the sheriff. I mean the marshal, Harry Lott. If you ain’t seen him, you will. He aims to get the jump on strangers. Says the way to run a town is to keep it buffaloed.”
    “How do he and Macy get along?”
    “They don’t. Macy’s a solid citizen.”
    The man still hesitated. “My name’s Hammett. Tell you what I’ll do. I’ll see if Dolan has a pack horse to sell.”
    “It’ll be a favor.”
    Kilkenny walked to the corral and studied the horses. They were not the kind to be found on any cattle spread, but chosen animals, the sort preferred by outlaws who needed speed and bottom. He had walked around the corner of the corral when a big,