Blood on Mcallister Read Online Free Page A

them. Harry threw another bucket of water over the defeated champion; the big blond man stirred slightly. Harry rolled him over and started to slap his face. He put a lot of energy into it. McAllister was stuffing money into his pockets. The crowd started to break up. Frank came over, grinning all over his face.
    â€˜Time we had that drink,’ he said.
    Gage sat up and looked like a house had fallen on him. McAllister heaved him to his feet. The blond man’s good-xsnature was still with him. He gave McAllister a battered grin and said: ‘That sure was a lulu. Where’d you learn to fight like that?’ He had difficulty in using his jaw.
    â€˜The Cheyenne,’ McAllister told him. ‘They sure do like to rassle.’
    Harry yelled: ‘What got into you? What the hell come over you? You know how much I got on you? You just ruined me. That’s all you just did—you ruined me.’
    â€˜I’m sorry, Harry,’ Gage said, genuine regret on his open face. ‘I’m real sorry. Let’s hope we don’t meet up with this hellion again.’
    â€˜Bein’ sorry don’t do nothin’ about the money I lost.’
    McAllister said: ‘Harry, you give me a pain. Why don’t you git the hell outa here?’
    The man stopped dead. The anger washed from his face and he looked at McAllister with pure hatred.
    Gage said: ‘Now, boys, don’t let’s have no bad feelin’. Harry’s upset and I guess that’s understandable. I’d be if I’d bet heavily on a feller an’ lost. Come on, McAllister, I’ll buy you a drink.’
    â€˜I thought you didn’t drink.’
    â€˜I’ll have a sarsaparilla.’
    They pulled on their shirts and walked with Frank Deblon to the Bull’s Head. They left Harry paying out and swearing. In the saloon there were a few more men than earlier. McAllister walked up to the bar and said: ‘Whiskey, two glasses an’ a sarsaparilla an’ if you so much as smile when you pour it I’ll decorate my saddle with your ears.’
    The man didn’t smile. He’d seen McAllister in action and lost ten dollars on him. The whiskey and the sarsaparilla came. They drank. They found a table and talked. Gage told them about himself. Harry Shultz had found him in New York and seen him fight and had offered to manage him. Gage was no businessman so he’d liked the idea. Now they were touring the West taking on all-comers. They made four challenges in one go: fist-fighting, running, putting the weight and wrestling. So far Billy Gage had never been beaten and they were making money. It was a good life and would continue to be if some more McAllisters didn’t appear on the scene.
    Frank Deblon and McAllister got several whiskeys under their belts and they talked. Billy Gage was a nice fellow and McAllister like him. Gage said again how grateful he was that McAllister had saved him out on the prairie and he couldn’t say how sorry he was that he hadn’t stopped to help McAllister, but business was business and he had to winthe race. McAllister said don’t give it a thought. He and Frank drank some more. They were feeling good because they had won a lot of money. Frank said it beat being a marshal any day of the week. Gage stayed sober as a judge and it was a bit embarrassing having him sitting there clear-eyed and clear-headed.
    Harry Shultz came in, gave McAllister a savage look and went to the bar for a drink. Billy Gage made some excuses for him—Harry was feeling bad. He had every reason to, he’d lost a lot of money and a man had reason to be mad when he’d done that, didn’t they think so? They reckoned Billy was about right.
    Where was Billy headed for next? McAllister asked. They were going west to the next town, Clanton. Why, if that wasn’t a coincidence, McAllister exclaimed. He had some friends someplace north of Clanton and he was on his way to