AC dBooks

Pete gazed
at the familiar shelves, boxes and barrels, the new saddles and rigs,
and in fact at everything in the store save the showcase which
contained the cheap watches, trinkets, and six-shooters.
"I got a couple o' skins here," he said presently. "Mebby you could
buy 'em."
"Let's see 'em, Pete."
Pete unfolded the stiff skins on the counter.
"Why, I'll give you two dollars for the lot. The cat-skins are all
right. The coyote ain't worth much."
"All right. I--I'm needin' the money right now," stammered Pete--"or
I'd give 'em to you."
"How you making it?" queried Roth.
"Fine! But I was thinkin' o' makin' a change. Sheep is all right--but
I'm sick o' the smell of 'em. Montoya is all right, too. It ain't
that."
Roth gazed at the boy, wondering if he would say anything about the
six-gun. He liked Pete and yet he felt a little disappointed that Pete
should have taken him altogether for granted.
"Montoya was in--yesterday," said Roth.
"Uh-huh? Said he was comin' over here. He's back in camp. Me and
Andy was lookin' for a Chola that wants to sell a hoss.


Pages:
89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113