Reprisal by William W. Johnstone

be. I know that. You’re a very intelligent man. I’ve noticed those books you carry around with you.”
    â€œBut I settled on being a gunfighter?” Frank said, amusement in his voice.
    â€œWell . . . I really didn’t mean it like that.”
    â€œI’m just kidding you, Jeff.”
    â€œOh ... all right. Frank?”
    â€œYep.”
    â€œWe’re running a little low on supplies.”
    â€œYeah. We’re about a day and a half out of Salida. We’ll provision up close to there at a little place I know near some springs. Salida used to be called South Arkansas; then some folks renamed it. The whole damn area is tough, so stay close and watch your mouth.”
    â€œDon’t you worry about that. I am your silent partner.”
    â€œStill lots of hanging in that area, especially in Buena Vista. That’s a mean judge there. I came through there about five years ago and counted five bodies swinging out on the edge of town.”
    â€œSurely you’re joking.”
    â€œNope. His name is Judge Lynch.”
    â€œNow I know you’re kidding me!”
    â€œNope. I sure am not. That’s his name. Quite a number of whorehouses in those towns. One-Eyed Sally’s got the biggest one.”
    â€œYou’ve been in them?”
    â€œNope. But I’ve ridden past them a few times. They do quite a business, let me tell you.”
    â€œJudge Lynch?”
    Frank laughed at his young friend. “That’s right. But we’ll cut south of that town.”
    â€œOh?”
    â€œYep. I know a shortcut over to Buffalo Pass and then we’ll follow the Saguache for a ways down to a stage stop and tradin’ post. After that it really gets into some wild country. You’ll see the beauty of the territory. Something you’ll remember for the rest of your life.”
    â€œWilder than this?”
    â€œSon, you haven’t seen nothin’ yet.”

Seven
    â€œI’ve lost all sense of time out here,” Jeff said. “What is the date?”
    â€œI think it’s November,” Frank replied. “But I wouldn’t take any bets on it.”
    â€œMy word! It’ll be Christmas before long.”
    â€œI reckon so.”
    â€œYou celebrate Christmas, don’t you?”
    â€œNot in a long time, Jeff.”
    â€œI always enjoyed the holidays. It’s such a wonderful gay time.”
    â€œYou have family back there?”
    â€œOh, yes. My parents. My brothers and sisters. Uncles and aunts and lots of cousins.”
    â€œThink you’ll go back someday?”
    Jeff didn’t immediately reply and Frank understood: The West could cast a powerful spell on a man. It could be pure hell on a woman, but many men who traveled out here ended up staying. The vastness of the West could be hypnotic.
    â€œI don’t know, Frank,” Jeff finally replied. “If I can make some kind of living out here, I believe I’ll stay.”
    â€œI thought that might be your answer. Doesn’t take long for the West to grab hold on a man.”
    Jeff looked up at the sky. “Looks odd.”
    â€œLooks like snow,” Frank told him. “And it might be a heavy one too. Or it might blow past. Anyway, we’re only a few miles from the Springs. We’ll hole up there until it blows over. Give the horses some rest and we’ll provision up. Maybe get us a bath.”
    â€œI itch all over,” Jeff said.
    â€œCooties.”
    â€œSounds disgusting. And my clothes are filthy.”
    â€œWelcome to the trail, Jeff. It isn’t so bad during the spring and summer. Man with a bar of soap can get himself a good wash in a creek or river. It gets tough during the cold months. We’ll get our clothes washed there too. Then the hard pull starts.”
    â€œHow far are we from Durango?”
    â€œCouple of weeks.”
    â€œThe vastness of the West is very nearly overwhelming. For a couple of days after