Tough to Kill
Page 16
“Did I do right?” he asked.
Wordlessly, McAllister nodded. He walked through them all toward the house, carrying Carlotta, who was clinging to him and weeping softly.
Markham said in a strangely soft gruff voice: “You done fine, boy.” The frog-man looked around him out of blinking eyes. “Put away your guns, boys. It’s all over.”
Jack Owen looked mildly astonished when he found that Lucy Markham was in his arms, rifle and all.
“Shucks,” he said. Markham didn’t even seem to notice. He was shouting at his men to get down from their horses and to take care of them. Didn’t they know that horses weren’t machines? They couldn’t be ridden regardless. Did they think he paid good money for first-class horseflesh, just so they could ride it into the ground?
Alvina said in a clear voice: “I think I’m going to faint.”
“Fall this way, honey,” McShannon said and caught her deftly. Markham didn’t seem to notice that either.
*
When Markham tramped into the house, he carried a bottle of whiskey. He found McAllister and Carlotta, McShannon and Alvina, Jack Owen and Lucy in the parlor. Each male was paired with a female and they were very close physically. The fact did not seem to make much impression on him.
“I daresay,” he said, squinting at them from the doorway, “that you boys could use a drink.”
“Yessirree,” said McShannon.
“I reckon,” McAllister nodded.
“I ain’t one for strong drink myself,” Jack Owen said, taking his eyes reluctantly from Lucy for a moment, “but seein’ a how this is kind of an occasion …”
McAllister said: “You owe Dowell a house, Markham.”
Markham waved a hand.
“I’ll pay. Godamighty, there’s houses a-plenty I can burn down in Colorado and Texas. Folks ain’t so techy in them parts. I suppose you reckon I owe you a house too, McAllister?”
McAllister grinned.
“We’ll say you paid for that,” he said. “An’ Carlotta was interest.”
Markham reached for glasses on the table and poured. He glanced from McShannon and Jack Owen.
“I suppose I could do worse than you two saddlebums for sons-in-law. You’ve got spunk any road. But I ain’t settin’ you up or nothin’ like that. You gotta make your own way same as I did. Maybe you thought you was marryin’ into money, but let me tell you - ”
McShannon said idly: “Maybe you’re kind of my daddy from here on, Markham, but that ain’t goin’ to stop me from rammin’ your teeth down your throat.”
Jack Owen gulped manfully and said in a whisper: “Nor me.”
Markham looked for a moment as if he would explode, then he laughed and said: “Like I said, you got spunk. I like spunk.
He handed around the drinks.
Carlotta said: “Here’s to peace in the valley.”
They drank.
Markham glared around at them.
“I reckon you fellers got everythin’ you want now,” he growled.
“I ain’t,” McAllister said.
“What in hell more do you want from me?” Markham demanded.
“Some good chow,” McAllister said, “all this excitement sure works up a hunger in a man.”
“Sure does,” McShannon agreed.
“I reckon,” Jack Owen added.
The girls bustled to the door and Carlotta said: “You men talk awhile and we’ll rustle up a meal.” They departed.
Markham picked up the bottle.
“Another snort, boys,” he said.
They agreed that it was a good idea.
This electronic edition published in July 2011 by Bloomsbury Reader
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Copyright © P. C. Watts 1968
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ISBN: 9781448205950
eISBN: 9781448205646
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