Novel 1966 - Kilrone (v5.0) by Louis L’Amour Page A

Indians don’t come or if they leave anything behind, I’ll come around and give you a thrashing. And don’t try reaching for that gun. I’m much faster than you.”
    Kilrone had the feeling that both the bartender and the other man were enjoying the scene. Neither offered to move. He backed to the door, glanced quickly around, then stepped outside, and as the wagon went sweeping by, he jumped for the tailgate and swung himself up.
    The door of the Empire was flung open and Kilrone put a bullet into the door jamb, a move to restrain anyone who might think of taking a shot after them.
    The rain had ceased, and the night was still. At the creek they stopped, filled the barrels, and drove on back to the fort. They unloaded the water barrels and with help from inside, rolled them into place.
    Kilrone rode to the end of the parade ground with Teale and together they stripped the harness and returned it to the racks.
    “Not that it’s likely to matter,” Teale commented. “The Indians will steal most of it if they come.”
    They stood together, listening into the night. The rain had begun again, fine, whispering, not unpleasant. At the far end of the parade ground lights glowed from the windows.
    “What happened back there?”
    “Nothing…Only he knows I’m here now, and he’ll be waiting for me when this is over.” They started to walk along together. “It’s a long story, Teale. I found an Indian agent shorting the Indians on rations…he had a deal with Sproul. And Sproul had a corner of land near the post area for his layout—just as he has here.
    “He had political power, and I didn’t, but I did have a friend in Congress. I got him to amend the bill by which they located the post so that they would take in fifty acres more.
    “Nobody protested…it seemed an unimportant thing at the time, but that additional fifty acres had Sproul’s place on it, and the change in the bill put that land under government supervision.
    “I knew he was selling whiskey to the Indians, but I couldn’t prove it. Two of my men—and that was what really started me going—had been robbed and murdered over there. Yet there was no way to get at him. He always had his trail well covered, and he had political connections. The Colonel who was in command at the fort wanted a promotion and would do nothing about it. But there came a time—he was all right, that Colonel—when he got leave to go East and I was left in command.”
    Teale glanced at him with sudden interest. “And you did it? You got rid of him?”
    “The place was a corner, you see? On one side, the river, on the other the government land occupied by the post. He was hedged in. He had gone to Cheyenne…he went there regularly…so I simply moved in, jacked up his smaller buildings—they were all frame, you know…used timbers and artillery caissons—and moved the whole lot five miles south and left them on the bank of the river. It was fifteen miles around the head of a deep canyon and in the middle of desolation.”
    Teale chuckled. “I’d like to have seen his face!”
    “He got back at night and found his place gone. There had been five buildings, only one of them of any size. The others were mere shacks. But he couldn’t find his town. It took him three days, because I’d given orders that no civilians could cross the post without a written permission from the Colonel, and the Colonel was in New York by that time.”
    They were standing outside Headquarters now. “What happened?” Teale asked.
    “By the time the Colonel returned I had some evidence. Not a thing against Sproul, you understand—his tracks were well covered, but I found enough on the Indian agent to urge his dismissal. Well, he was dismissed, all right, but I was transferred to another post…and then I resigned.”
    “You kind of stretched yourself,” Teale commented. “It took nerve to buck the army and Sproul at the same time.”
    “Teale, you watch this man’s army and you’ll