"David Drake - Old Nathan (2)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Drake David)

lost his temper with the animal. She sprang back to him, calming somewhat as he kneaded the fur over
her shoulders and prevented her from jumping further.

Boardman walked forward again. "Well?" he said, fluffing back the tails of his coat with his hands behind
him. The gold chain of his watch stood out in the sunlight, as did the muddy pawprints on his vest. "Well,
what am I t'do ?"

"Nowhush ," Old Nathan said firmly to the bitch. He rose to his full height, topping his visitor's average
frame by a full hand's breadth.

"I kin make it so's ye kin plow yer newground," the cunning man went on. "If thet's what ye want. And
the cost of it toyou is a hundred minted dollars."

"What?" the younger man blurted, stepping back as if his bitch had leaped up in his face. "Why, I paid
Bully Ransden only ten toclear it, and he thought himself paid well."

"I ain't sellin' ye forty acres, John Boardman," the cunning man replied with his jaw and black beard
thrust out. "WhatI hev to offer is Sally Ann Hewitt, and whether er no she's a hundred dollars value is a
question ye'll answer yerself."

"You think I cain't pay thet," the younger man said in flat anger, meeting Old Nathan's eyes.

"I think yer daddy kin," said the cunning man. "But it makes no matter to me, yea 'r nay."

"Then ye'll hev yer silver money," said his visitor. "Though I reckon you're humbug, and we'll hev that
money back outen yer hide if ye fail us."

" 'Us,' " Old Nathan repeated with a sneer. "Oh, aye, you'd do wonders, boy. But I'll not fail."

In the pasture behind him, Spanish King bawled a challenge to the world.

***

When Old Nathan saw him, Bully Ransden was plowing on a hilltop a furlong from the road. Unlike
horses, bulls have no certain gait between ambling and a panic rush, so the younger man easily had time
to outspan his plow oxen and trot down the hill. He met Old Nathan and King in front of the cabin
Ransden shared with a black-haired woman. The homeplace, where Ransden's mother still lived, was a
quarter mile away on the far side of the acreage.

"So-o-o . . ." said Bully Ransden, arms akimbo and his legs spread to put one boot just within each of
the road's single pair of wagon ruts. "Where d'ye think you wuz goin', old man?"

"You know me, Cullen Ransden," Old Nathan replied. He laid an arm over the neck of Spanish King
and murmured, "Whoa, now, old friend, we'll have us t' drink and a bit uv rest here."

He was a fine figure to look at, was Bully Ransden. He stood as tall as Old Nathan and supported with
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