A Gun by Any Other Name…
“Hand over the money,” said the man in the middle.
“What money?” Ike asked. “We don’t have any money.”
“We wuz told different.”
“Really?” Clint asked. “By who?”
“That don’t matter.”
Clint looked around them, beyond them, into the shadows. He thought he saw someone, watching. He thought he knew who it was. Somebody who was interested in standing back and watching, seeing what he had left.
These men were a sacrifice.
“You don’t want to do this,” he said to them.
“Why not?” the middle man, Rango, asked.
“Because we might be carrying money,” Clint said, “but it’s not enough for all of you to die for.”
“Hey,” one of the other men said, “who is this guy? He thinks he can kill five of us?”
“He knows he can,” Ike said.
“Whataya mean, he knows he can?” Rango asked. “How can he know that?”
“Because,” Ike said, “his name is Clint Adams.”
All five men stared at Clint.
“You know,” Ike continued, “the Gunsmith?”
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FORTY MILE RIVER
A Jove Book / published by arrangement with the author
PUBLISHING HISTORY
Jove edition / September 2012
Copyright © 2012 by Robert J. Randisi.
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ALWAYS LEARNING
PEARSON
Table of Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Eight
Thirty-Nine
Forty
Forty-One
Forty-Two
Forty-Three
Forty-Four
Fraternity of the Gun
ONE
Clint heard the deck creak outside his room.
If he had been in a hotel, it would have meant someone was walking in the hall outside his room. But on a steamship like the Lady Gay, all it meant was that the deck was creaking.
The Lady Gay, owned by the West Coast Steamship Company, out of Seattle, was heading to Alaska. The discovery of gold had caused people to flock there to pan or dig for their fortune. Clint was on his way to see a friend, who said he already had a big claim and needed a partner. Since he had nothing on his plate, Clint decided to go ahead and make the trip north. It had been years since he’d been in Alaska.
The girl in bed with him rolled over and looked at him.
“I could feel you were awake,” she said.
“Well, I tried not to wake you, but I can’t do anything about that.”
“Yes, you can.” She scooted over to him, plastering her hot, naked body against his. “You can make it up to me. Or are you thinking about playing poker?”
“Actually, I wasn’t,” he said. “I was thinking about this ship, and where we’re headed.”
“Alaska?”
“Skagway, more specifically,” he said. “And beyond.”
“I’m only heading for Skagway,” she said. “Where
are you going?”
“North of there, about fifteen hundred miles.”
“Jesus,” she said. “How are you gonna get there? And why?”
“A boat, on the river,” he said, “and for gold.”
“You don’t look like a man who has gold fever,” she said.
“I don’t,” he said, “but I’m meeting up with a man who just might.”
“A friend?”
He nodded.
“You’d go that far for a friend?”
He put his arms around her and said, “I guess that’s my one big flaw.”
“You only have one?”
She snuggled closer to him and said, “It’s going to get colder the closer we get.”
“Too cold for sex?”
She kissed his chest and said, “Never too cold for that. At least, not if we stay under the covers.”
They had a sheet and a blanket on them, and combined with her body heat, they were extremely warm.
“I’m so glad not to be up on deck,” she said.
Clint had been lucky enough to get a cabin on board. There were so many passengers that the deck was overcrowded with them, many of them sleeping in bedrolls, or simply on blankets rolled out on the deck. He had felt a little guilty about it, but not any longer. At least he was sharing his bed and cabin with Frankie.
Her name was Francesca Morgan, but as soon as they had met up on deck, she’d told him to call her Frankie. He had invited her into the lounge with him, where they had dinner and then he played some poker while she watched. She had gotten her ticket at the last minute and had only been able to get deck space. She was very happy to be inside, and he was just as happy to help her. When it got late, he asked her if she wanted to sleep in his cabin. She readily agreed. After that, nature had just taken its course.
That initial meeting had taken place the first day, and she had been sharing his cabin—and his bed—ever since then.
He rolled her onto her back and she wrapped her legs around him…
In another part of the ship, two men sat at the bar in the lounge. Around them, men sat at tables, some playing poker, others just drinking. They had all been able to afford paying for the right, unlike the teeming masses who were crowded onto the deck.
Actually, the Lady Gay was not meant to carry passengers. The holds of the ship were packed with supplies that would be used to dig gold out of the hard-packed earth in Alaska.
But where there’s a will to make money, there’s a way. So the hold was filled with supplies, and the deck was filled with paying passengers. And some of the passengers had paid enough for a lounge to be set up, and to have cabins.
Calvin Parker was such a man. The man with him was his assistant, Hector Tailor.
“Sir, there’s something I don’t understand,” Hector said.
“Then ask, Hector,” Parker said. “I want you to understand every aspect of your job. If you have questions, ask them.”
“You have the money to finance this operation,” Calvin said. “I mean, you have more money than any ten men I’ve ever known. Why go all the way to Alaska?”
“Because,” Parker said, “that’s where the gold is. And because, for me, it’s unconquered territory.”
“Is that what it’s about for you, then?” Hector asked. “Exploring the unconquered?”
“It’s more than that, Hector. It’s about conquering the unconquered,” Parker said. “That’s what it’s about for all great men.”
Hector studied his boss while the man drank down most of his brandy. He didn’t think he was looking at a great man—not yet anyway. But he was looking at a man who was going to pay him a lot of money, so he raised his own glass.
“Here’s to great men,” he said.
Parker raised his own glass in response and said, “Here’s to a great man.”
TWO
Clint nuzzled Francesca’s breasts, teasing the dark brown nipples until they were fully turgid in his mouth.
She moaned, held his head in her arms, pressing him to her, but he wasn’t satisfied to stay there. He worked his way down her body, trying to make sure the covers didn’t slide off them. He kissed her belly, licked her belly button, then buried his nose in that hairy, fragrant V between her thighs.
He probed there with his tongue until he found her already slick and wet, and then went to work with his tongue and his lips until she was bouncing around on the bed in such a frenzy that the covers went flying to the floor.
“Oh, my God!” she cried, reaching down not to hold him there, but to push him away. “You’re going to kill me!”
Finally he allowed her to push him away, but just so he could mount her and drive himself into her. His penis was like a column of stone and she gasped as he entered her.
She wrapped her legs around him once more, and he marveled again that, for a slender girl, she had very strong thighs.
He slid his hands beneath her to cup her smooth ass and then proceeded to fuck her hard and fast because—after many days together—he knew this was what she liked. He preferred something slower, but eventually he got what he wanted, too.
They were a good match. It was too bad the voyage would soon come to an end…
“So you’re really heading up the river when we get to Skagway?” she asked. They were back under the covers, and she was lying wrapped in his arms.
“As soon as we get there,” he said. “First day. My friend should be waiting there for me.”
“Do you know how many days that trip will take?” she asked.
“No,” he said, “but I’ll find out.”
“Can’t you stay in Skagway just for a while?” she asked.
“I’m afraid not,” Clint said. “I’m going to be a slave to my friend’s schedule.”
“He must be a very good friend.”
“He is,” Clint said, although he thought a trip to Alaska, and time spent up the river, might put that to the test.
He held her tightly until she fell asleep, then allowed her to roll off him to the other side of the bed. He stood up, pulled on his clothes, and went up on deck for some air.
“You know the Gunsmith is on board?” Hector asked his boss.
“Clint Adams? That’s interesting. How do you know that?”
“I saw him.”
“You know him on sight?”
“Yes, sir,” Hector said. “I saw him once in Kansas City.”
“Saw him do what?”
“Kill three men.”
“In the street?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Alone?”
“Yes, just him against them. He outdrew them cleanly. None of them even got off a shot.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Three years.”
Parker looked into his third brandy of the night.
“Wonder why he’s going to Alaska,” he said aloud, even though he was really asking himself the question.
“Why does anybody go to Alaska?” Hector asked. “Gold.”
“But the Gunsmith?” Parker said. “I’ve never heard anything about him being greedy.”
“You think only greedy men go after gold?”
“Well, of course,” Parker said. “Come on, Hector. You just pointed out that I have a lot of money. What reason other than greed could cause me to go to Alaska for gold?”
“Yes, but—”
“There’s nothing wrong with greed, son,” Parker said. “Nothing at all. Learn to be greedy and you might make something of yourself.”
Parker finished his third brandy, then set the glass down and left the lounge. He didn’t go out onto the deck, but rather used the door that would lead him belowdecks, to his cabin.
Hector thought about what his boss had said, then turned to the bartender and ordered a beer.
THREE
Once he was out on deck, Clint started to think he’d made a mistake. He could have gotten to the lounge without going on deck, but he wanted some air. Now he was getting hard loo
ks from the people who had to sleep on deck during this whole trip. Wrapped in their blankets and bedrolls, they recognized him as somebody who had a cabin. Clint almost felt the need to apologize as he walked among them and eventually reached the lounge.
Inside it was quiet, with the sound of glasses clinking and chips falling. Clint walked to the lounge, where a few men were standing, and ordered a beer.
“Comin’ up,” the bartender said.
“Mr. Adams’s beer will be on me,” a young man said from down the bar.
“Much obliged,” Clint said.
“Do you mind if I join you?” the man asked.
“Not at all,” Clint said.
The man grabbed his own beer and walked down to where Clint was standing.
“My name is Tailor, Hector Tailor.”
Clint shook the man’s hand and said, “You seem to know who I am.”
“Indeed I do,” Hector said. “I saw you once in Kansas City.”
“I’ve been to Kansas City many times,” Clint said as the bartender set his beer down on the bar. “Which time are you referring to?”
“I saw you kill three men in the street in a fair fight,” Hector said.
“Ah,” Clint said, “that was about three years back. Not my finest hour.”
“But…you were magnificent!”
“Believe it or not, Mr. Tailor—”
“Hector, please.”
“Believe it or not, Hector, I try not to kill people,” Clint explained.
“I…well…your reputation…”
“You can’t always believe a man’s reputation.”
“I’m…sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Clint said. “Let’s drink up and then I’ll buy you one.”
They talked for a while, as Hector tried to discover what was taking the Gunsmith to Alaska.
He told Clint that he was traveling with his boss, who was going to be setting up a mining operation in Alaska. There was no harm in telling him this, because it was all true.
“What’s taking you there?” he asked then.
“What’s taking everyone there?” Clint asked. “All those people crowded onto the decks?”
“Gold? But…you don’t strike me as the kind of man who would be enticed by gold.”
“I’m not,” Clint said, “but I know somebody who is, and he sent me a telegram.”
Forty Mile River Page 1