The Killing Machine Read Free Page A

animal. The paint wasn’t much bigger than a colt. Mason kept everything gentle. He used his short whip only once, and then with obvious reluctance. When he saw me, he went up to the paint and stroked its neck several times, gentling it down. Then he walked over to me.
    â€œIf you’re looking for Tib Mason,” he said, “you found him.”
    â€œYou’re mighty nice to that paint.”
    â€œI like horses. We’ve got the best in the Territory on this line. And I personally tamed just about every one of them. And I didn’t get mean with any of them.” He took out his sack of Bull Durham, then his papers, and went to work. “So what can I do for you, mister?”
    â€œNeed to hire a couple of men.”
    â€œFor what?”
    I told him what I wanted him to know, which wasn’t much. I also showed him my badge.
    â€œThey could get hurt.”
    â€œThat’s why I’m paying them so well.”
    â€œThis Ford character out to that ranch. Nobody around here has much time for him. He made it plain that he didn’t want anything to do with us. And we obliged him. We didn’t want nothing to do with him, either.” He got his cigarette lighted with a stick match and inhaled deeply. “He looks like he could be a tough sonofabitch.”
    â€œHe is.”
    â€œYou know him, do ya?”
    â€œHe’s my brother.”
    He surprised me. He didn’t look startled. He just grinned. “That’d probably make you just as strange as he is.”
    â€œIt probably would.”
    Another drag. “How come you didn’t go to the marshal and ask for some deputies?”
    â€œLocal law isn’t always cooperative. We have to run the show and they resent that.”
    â€œYou can’t blame ’em for that, can you?”
    â€œNo, I can’t blame them. But on the other hand, I need to do things the way the Army wants them done. I don’t act on my own. I take orders.”
    He said, “How about me and a man named James Andrews? Full-blooded Cree. That kind of money, we’ll do it. Just don’t cheat him. He makes a bad enemy.”
    â€œDon’t we all.”
    He shrugged. “I suspect you do. And I suspect your brother does. But that doesn’t mean we’re all like you, thank God.”
    â€œYou’ll go out to my brother’s with me?”
    â€œSure. All those coaches you see over there—I owe the bank for every one of them. This should be some easy money for us.”
    I watched the paint before I spoke. He dug at the dirt with a long leg, as if he was going after buried treasure. He was young and strong. I almost hated to think of him spending his life on stage trails.
    â€œMe and the Cree’re good shots. And we’re used to taking orders. The customers are our bosses. Same with folks we hire out to. You won’t have any trouble with us. None at all.”
    â€œIf he’s Cree, why’s his name James?”
    â€œHe shook his Stetson’d head. “Missionaries gave it to him. That’s the name he prefers. I actually never heard him even say his Cree name.”
    â€œI’ll need a buckboard.”
    â€œThat won’t be any trouble.”
    â€œAnd we’ll meet here just about five? Buckboard and shotguns?”
    â€œFine by me, friend.” He nodded to the paint inside the rope corral. “Better get back to work. He’s getting restless.”
    Â 
    I had supper just before four o’clock in a café that catered to townspeople of the merchant variety. You could deduce this from the headwear they wore, mostly homburgs. I was there for a steak and eggs. They were there for drinks.
    I wasn’t sure when or where he’d find me, but I knew he would. They come, of course, in different shapes, sizes, ages, dispositions. The canny ones choose a persona and pretty much stick to it. They can hide in the persona so that you can never guess their