“So you like that disgusting brew?”
“I sure do,” Morgan said, rubbing his stomach and grinning. “It’s the finest thing I’ve ever tasted. It almost makes me think I can live forever.”
Chapter Seventeen
FERGAL JOINED RANDOLPH as Morgan galloped into the hills to the north. Then they built a small cairn for Jed’s body, and although Randolph had misgivings, they threw Quinn and his men’s bodies into the river. Fergal murmured a few words over Jed’s grave and then tipped his hat to Randolph.
“I aim to reach Redemption City before nightfall, so I’ll say goodbye,” he said. “As a partial thanks for everything you did today and for the last four years, you can have the five hundred dollars. You deserve it.”
Randolph tipped his hat to Fergal. “Goodbye and thanks. Keep your head down now that you’re on your own.”
Fergal smiled and held out a wad of bills. “I’ll try. Goodbye and thanks to you, too.”
Randolph took the offered money and shoved it into his jacket.
“You said a lot of things about Morgan not understanding where the gold was. Before you go, how much of what you said was true?”
“What I said is as true as anything I’ve ever said.”
“That’s precisely the sort of answer I expected, except it’s not the sort I deserve. So tell me one honest truth. Does Shamus McGinty’s gold exist?”
“Yup,” Fergal said, his voice croaking. “I see no reason to hide that.”
With a hand tipped to his hat, Fergal strode back to his wagon. There, he took the reins and encouraged the horses to a steady trot down the hill. Randolph chose the best of Quinn’s horses and hurried down the slope to ride alongside Fergal’s wagon.
“Tell me one other thing,” he said.
Fergal winked. “I only gave you permission to ask one question.”
“True, but for old-time’s sake, where is Shamus McGinty’s gold?”
“Why should I tell you?”
“Because you owe me and no man should go through life with a debt to repay.”
“In that, you’re right.” Fergal sighed. “Would it suffice to tell you that the story I tell about me falling into a river, an ancient native tribe curing me with an amber liquid and a friend helping me back to civilization is almost true?”
“Almost true sums you up. Which bit isn’t true?”
“My involvement isn’t. The story happened to my pa.”
Randolph rubbed his chin. “I’ll accept that, but where is the gold? If it helps I have no interest in claiming it.”
Fergal bit his bottom lip and when he spoke, his voice was barely audible.
“I have it.”
Randolph nodded and dragged on the reins to pull back from the wagon, but the answer nagged at him. He turned back to Fergal, his head on one side.
“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me where you keep it?”
Fergal laughed. “The truth won’t help you and it wouldn’t have done Morgan any good.”
“That’s because you wouldn’t tell Morgan where it is.”
Fergal shook his head and turned to the trail ahead.
“That’s not strictly true. I refused to tell Morgan where the gold is, but I gave him the share he deserved anyhow.”
“He left here with nothing.”
Fergal held the reins in one hand and withdrew a flask of the amber liquid from his medical bag.
“What do you think my recipe is?”
Fergal waved the flask. With a last grin, he shook the reins, and the horses galloped on ahead. Randolph stood across the trail and watched the departing wagon until it was a mere green blemish in the distance.
He sighed and wondered what he should do now. As he turned, he flinched. Beside him, a heavily bearded man sat on a tall horse. Randolph’s heart thudded, but then he remembered what the man had done and smiled.
“I should thank you for saving my life,” he said.
The heavily bearded man shrugged inside his buffalo-hide jacket.
“I didn’t help you,” he said. The man’s voice sounded older to Randolph than his unlined skin suggested he was. “I saw your skill with a gun and Morgan was no match for you. You’d have killed him.”
“Then why did you shoot his gun away?”
The heavily bearded man turned to the northern hills.
“Sometimes a man has to repay his debts.”
“Where are you heading?” Randolph asked. “I could ride along with you for a while.”
“You can’t. You’re heading west and I’m heading north.”
“How do you know where I’m heading?”
A white smile appeared in the middle of the bushy beard.
“Old habits die hard and anyhow, a man has to have a reason for carrying on living. I’ll be seeing you, Randolph. You’re doing a good job.”
“Wait!” Randolph called as the man turned his horse away. “Who are you?”
The heavily bearded man rubbed a hand down his buffalo-hide jacket and, for a second, the jacket parted, revealing a hideous green vest beneath.
“You know who I am, Randolph.”
The man waved and galloped away. Randolph watched him go until the man disappeared into the endless hills, riding in the same direction as Morgan had gone.
“Yeah, you’re right. A man has to have a purpose in life, even if it’s only protecting Fergal from irate customers.” Randolph smiled. “Let’s hope Redemption City’s townsfolk really do have short memories.”
With a shake of his head, Randolph galloped down the hill after Fergal.
Don't miss out!
Click the button below and you can sign up to receive emails whenever I. J. Parnham publishes a new book. There's no charge and no obligation.
https://books2read.com/r/B-A-MHDI-UIXGB
Connecting independent readers to independent writers.
Did you love The Legend of Shamus McGinty's Gold? Then you should read Clementine by I. J. Parnham!
When Fergal O'Brien sells a bottle of his universal remedy to the dying Leland Crawford, Leland makes a miraculous recovery, for several minutes. Then he drops dead. But before the end Leland bequeaths to Fergal his beloved Clementine, a 250-foot sidewheeler that once ruled the Big Muddy, until it sank.
Worse, Leland was in debt and now the creditors expect Fergal to pay up. With Fergal having no money, minstrel Dayton Hyde offers him a way out, but only if he kills Marshal Swift. To avoid carrying out this unwelcome task, Fergal will need to use all his cunning or like as not in this wet weather, he'll share the fate of Clementine.
Also by I. J. Parnham
Fergal O'Brien
The Legend of Shamus McGinty's Gold
Standalone
Mendosa's Gun-runners (Coming Soon)
The Legend of Shamus McGinty's Gold Page 11