But tough as wang-leather and no backup in him. “I worked for Miss Janey at the ranch. Miss Jenny is there now. She’s waitin’ to see if you’re gonna throw her off the place.”
“Why would I do something like that? I don’t want the ranch or any of my sister’s property. It all goes to Jenny when she comes of age. I intend to see that it does.”
Van Horn grunted. “I figured Miss Jenny was being fed a line by Biggers and Cosgrove and Dunham. I know your reputation for being fair and told Miss Jenny what them others was sayin’ was all a pack of lies.”
“Ride with me,” Smoke said. “Let’s go settle this at the lawyer’s office.”
Smoke read the documents carefully and then signed the papers. He then stared at Dunham so long the man began to squirm in his chair. “Did you tell my niece that I was going to throw her off the ranch and take all of the property?”
“Why, ah . . .”
“Do you represent Biggers and Cosgrove?”
“Why, ah . .
“Did you encourage her to sell to Biggers all the while knowing that she could not legally do so?” “Why, ah . . .”
Van Horn stood leaning against a wall, enjoying the lawyer’s discomfort. He didn’t know what Smoke Jensen was going to do, but whatever it was, he wasn’t going to miss a second of it.
“You are a lowlife shyster son-of-a-bitch lawyer,”
Smoke told the pale and shaken barrister. “Playing both sides against the middle and trying to cheat a young girl out of her inheritance.”
“You can’t talk to me like that!” Dunham protested.
“I just did.” Smoke reached across the desk and got a fistful of Dunham’s shirt. He hauled him over the desk and then proceeded to throw him out of the second-story window. Dunham went squalling and shrieking through the glass. He bounced off the awning and fell into the mud of the street, landing squarely in a big pile of horse droppings. He wasn’t badly hurt, except for his dignity, which was severely bruised.
Sheriff Bowers stood on the boardwalk in front of his office and shook his head at the sight.
The hearse carrying the body of Deputy Patton rattled by, heading for the cemetery. Doc White had told Club that he didn’t know if Nick Norman was going to make it. That killer horse of Jensen’s had fractured the man’s skull. Jensen was going to have to be dealt with, but damned if Club knew how to go about it. Biggers and Cosgrove were due in town this morning. He’d lay it all in their laps.
Club watched as Smoke and Van Horn mounted up and rode out of the town, heading for the ranch out in the valley.
‘You own that, too,” Van Horn said, pointing to a two-story house on the edge of town. It was a fancy and well-kept place. The sign on the lawn proclaimed it to be The Golden Cherry.
“What is it?” Smoke asked.
“You don’t know?” the old cowboy asked.
“No.”
“It’s a whorehouse.”
Jenny Jensen was quite the young lady, very pretty and petite and well mannered. She seemed in awe of her Uncle Smoke.
Smoke put her at ease quickly and Van Horn left them alone in the house. As she made coffee and set a platter of doughnuts on the table, she smiled at Smoke shyly.
“I can’t do much,” the girl admitted. “But I can cook. That’s one of the things taught us at finishing school in Boston.”
The girl was lovely, with a heart-shaped face and a figure that would turn any man’s head. Smoke smiled at her. “How long have you been out here, Jenny?”
“About a year. I came out when I learned of my mother’s death.”
“How did she die, Jenny?”
“There was an outbreak of fever. Mother and her . . . girls nursed the sick miners. Mother caught the fever and died. It took Lawyer Dunham almost a year to find me.”
“He knew where you were, Jenny. He was just stalling for time. He and Biggers and Cosgrove couldn’t figure out a way to cheat you out of your inheritance, that’s all. Then I entered the picture and that really shook them up. What do
“Why would I do something like that? I don’t want the ranch or any of my sister’s property. It all goes to Jenny when she comes of age. I intend to see that it does.”
Van Horn grunted. “I figured Miss Jenny was being fed a line by Biggers and Cosgrove and Dunham. I know your reputation for being fair and told Miss Jenny what them others was sayin’ was all a pack of lies.”
“Ride with me,” Smoke said. “Let’s go settle this at the lawyer’s office.”
Smoke read the documents carefully and then signed the papers. He then stared at Dunham so long the man began to squirm in his chair. “Did you tell my niece that I was going to throw her off the ranch and take all of the property?”
“Why, ah . . .”
“Do you represent Biggers and Cosgrove?”
“Why, ah . .
“Did you encourage her to sell to Biggers all the while knowing that she could not legally do so?” “Why, ah . . .”
Van Horn stood leaning against a wall, enjoying the lawyer’s discomfort. He didn’t know what Smoke Jensen was going to do, but whatever it was, he wasn’t going to miss a second of it.
“You are a lowlife shyster son-of-a-bitch lawyer,”
Smoke told the pale and shaken barrister. “Playing both sides against the middle and trying to cheat a young girl out of her inheritance.”
“You can’t talk to me like that!” Dunham protested.
“I just did.” Smoke reached across the desk and got a fistful of Dunham’s shirt. He hauled him over the desk and then proceeded to throw him out of the second-story window. Dunham went squalling and shrieking through the glass. He bounced off the awning and fell into the mud of the street, landing squarely in a big pile of horse droppings. He wasn’t badly hurt, except for his dignity, which was severely bruised.
Sheriff Bowers stood on the boardwalk in front of his office and shook his head at the sight.
The hearse carrying the body of Deputy Patton rattled by, heading for the cemetery. Doc White had told Club that he didn’t know if Nick Norman was going to make it. That killer horse of Jensen’s had fractured the man’s skull. Jensen was going to have to be dealt with, but damned if Club knew how to go about it. Biggers and Cosgrove were due in town this morning. He’d lay it all in their laps.
Club watched as Smoke and Van Horn mounted up and rode out of the town, heading for the ranch out in the valley.
‘You own that, too,” Van Horn said, pointing to a two-story house on the edge of town. It was a fancy and well-kept place. The sign on the lawn proclaimed it to be The Golden Cherry.
“What is it?” Smoke asked.
“You don’t know?” the old cowboy asked.
“No.”
“It’s a whorehouse.”
Jenny Jensen was quite the young lady, very pretty and petite and well mannered. She seemed in awe of her Uncle Smoke.
Smoke put her at ease quickly and Van Horn left them alone in the house. As she made coffee and set a platter of doughnuts on the table, she smiled at Smoke shyly.
“I can’t do much,” the girl admitted. “But I can cook. That’s one of the things taught us at finishing school in Boston.”
The girl was lovely, with a heart-shaped face and a figure that would turn any man’s head. Smoke smiled at her. “How long have you been out here, Jenny?”
“About a year. I came out when I learned of my mother’s death.”
“How did she die, Jenny?”
“There was an outbreak of fever. Mother and her . . . girls nursed the sick miners. Mother caught the fever and died. It took Lawyer Dunham almost a year to find me.”
“He knew where you were, Jenny. He was just stalling for time. He and Biggers and Cosgrove couldn’t figure out a way to cheat you out of your inheritance, that’s all. Then I entered the picture and that really shook them up. What do
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