"THE TRAIL TO SEVEN PINES" - читать интересную книгу автора (L'Amour Louis)for the job. How about it?"
"I've got a job." Hopalong smiled and shook his head. "Thanks just the same." 57 57 LOUIS L'AMOUR "But this one will pay twice as much!" Harper protested. "We'll pay a hundred and fifty a month and you split the costs from any arrests with the J.P." He winked. "That there could run into a sizable chunk of money with this town as tough as it is. Mileage, too. Now that's an item. A marshal can pile up a sight of mileage if he wants." "I've got a job," Hopalong repeated. "Anyway, I'm a rider, not a peace officer." "Sorry!" Harper seemed irked. "We could have used you." Hopalong tasted the coffee, then grinned at Katie. "Ma'am," he said, "I sure hope no cowhand marries you off until I leave town! This is the best coffee I've tasted since leavin' Texas!" The door swung open, and a man walked into the room. He was short and barrel-chested, with a wide jaw and a broken nose. His eyes were blue, but despite the liquor he seemed to be carrying, his expression was not vague. He had big hands and wore two guns swung low and tied down. "Shorty," Katie said severely, "you're drunk again!" The man grinned widely and impudently. "Not-yet! My walk's no worse than usual and I can still talk straight. Only"- his eyes drifted to Pony Harper and Clarry Jacks-"only I do smell somethin' funny, somethin' mighty pecoolyar." Shorty Montana stared at the two men. "I sure do! I smell polecat. Two polecatsh!" He looked around in mock bewilderment. "Wheresh the other polecatsh?" was a devil in his eyes. Cassidy could guess why Jacks hesitated to make an issue of it. Montana was popular, and a killing by Jacks would be apt to blow the lid off more than one thing right now. As for Harper, he wanted no part of Montana at any time. It was an interesting and revealing picture. Hopalong studied it while drinking his coffee. Shorty at 58 58 THE TRAIL TO SEVEN PINES least was not afraid of either of them, for he did not hesitate to bait them, obviously welcoming trouble. And trouble could not profit either of the others. Shorty leaned his big hands on the table. "I said-wheresh the other polecatsh?" "Shorty!" Katie Regan spoke sharply now. "Shorty, come over here and drink your coffee! It's getting cold!" The drunken man hesitated an instant, staring at the other two, then lurched to a seat. Shaking his head, he muttered, "Women! Women! Never leave a man alone! Gettin' so a man can't even have a decent knock-down-and-drag-out fight without a woman buttin' in! Can't even talk to a couple of polecatsh!" The door closed softly, and Cassidy noticed the two men had gone quietly outside. He heard a murmur of conversation, and it sounded bitter. He grinned at the thought of what was probably being said. At the same time he was wishing he could overhear it. Whatever those two had to say might be interesting. He doubted that Harper really wanted him as town marshal. What Harper or somebody wanted was to have him away from the Rocking R. But who? And why? Cassidy went to work on the pie and glanced up to see Shorty Montana staring at him. |
|
|