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    Gunsmoke and Lightning: An Old West Story: Gunsmoke and Lightning Series
    Gunsmoke and Lightning: An Old West Story: Gunsmoke and Lightning Series
    Gunsmoke and Lightning: An Old West Story: Gunsmoke and Lightning Series
    Ebook78 pages1 hour

    Gunsmoke and Lightning: An Old West Story: Gunsmoke and Lightning Series

    By FARY SJ OROH

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    The rollicking range detectives don't like to waste energy, so when a train robbery and rustling mystery comes along, they just take it nice and easy, and then slide right into the solution!

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDaun Ilalang Publishing
    Release dateSep 14, 2014
    ISBN9781502269300
    Gunsmoke and Lightning: An Old West Story: Gunsmoke and Lightning Series

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      Book preview

      Gunsmoke and Lightning - FARY SJ OROH

      Gunsmoke and Lightning: An Old West Story

      By Fary SJ Oroh

      Copyright © by Daun Ilalang Publishing

      All Rights Reserved

      Table of Contents

      CHAPTER I

      A Shot on the Trail

      CHAPTER II

      No Holdup

      CHAPTER III

      Gov’ment Work

      CHAPTER IV

      Kind and Patient

      CHAPTER V

      Dynamite!

      CHAPTER VI

      Vista Robles

      CHAPTER VII

      Plotters

      CHAPTER VIII

      Double Roundup

      CHAPTER I

      A Shot on the Trail

      GUNSMOKE Jack and Lightning Smith were very miserable. Someone in Lazy Moon Valley had told Gunsmoke of a short cut out of the valley, and Gunsmoke was always in favor of the shortest distance between two points. That is all right, if you have a destination in mind — which Gunsmoke didn’t have.

      Just now they were coming down a canyon, facing a bitter wind, in which there was a hint of snow — or at least, cold rain. They wore yellow slickers, which flapped in the wind. Lightning’s had only one button, and that at the collar, which caused him untold misery, as the slicker billowed out like a sail in the wind, and threatened to blow him off the saddle any time he shifted his position.

      Lightning was five feet, seven inches tall, shaped like a reed, and was about the same weight. Gunsmoke Jack was built exactly like Lightning, except that in his high-heels and sombrero he was seven feet tall. These two had finished up a job for the Cattlemen’s Association, and were evidently trying to get a bird’s-eye view of the country.

      You and yore short-cuts! groaned Lightning dismally. Here we are, on top of the world, a-headin’ for the North Pole. Didn’t the man say where this here alleged cut-off would take us?

      He jist said it was a short way out of the valley, replied Gunsmoke. I plumb forgot to ask him where it’d take us.

      Naturally. But if we can’t talk Eskimo, we better go back. I tell yuh I’m froze to the bone. Nothin’ in sight down yonder, except pine trees, high rocks and rain, comin’ down the divide.

      Gunsmoke drew his slicker closer around his skinny neck, and then tried to beat his arms around his body, which caused his horse almost to leave the hill — and Gunsmoke Jack.

      At least, he panted, when he got the animal back on the trail, it warmed me up. I’m good for miles now.

      In less’n an hour it’ll be dark, said Lightning. I’ll betcha some explorer will come through here in seven, eight years and find two grizzly skillingtons on the trail. That’ll be me and you, Gunsmoke. He’ll mark the spot and-

      What’s skillington? asked Gunsmoke.

      That’s a man with his insides out and his outsides off.

      Why, queried Gunsmoke, would a explorer come through here?

      Short cut, replied Lightning maliciously. They’re all crazy, too.

      After all, said Gunsmoke, we’re detectives. We can’t get lost.

      That, said Lightning wearily, is a statement that ain’t shared none by Jim Keaton.

      Jim Keaton! snorted Gunsmoke. Yuh know Lightning, the more I work for that pelicano, the less I think... Oh-oh! Cows comin’ up the trail. We ain’t lost. As long as there’s cows —

      ###

      A RIDER spurring past the advancing herd, half-buried in the brush, jerked up his stumbling horse. Gunsmoke threw up one hand in a trail greeting, and a moment later the man had drawn a gun and shot at them. Lightning’s horse flung down its head, started backward in a lunging rear, and went down flat on the trail, while Lightning fell into the brush.

      The man had whirled his horse and was going back as fast as his horse could travel in the heavy brush and rocks. Gunsmoke lifted in his stirrups and sent three shots after the man, the canyon echoing from the bombardment.

      Are yuh all right, Lightning? asked Gunsmoke anxiously.

      No, I ain’t all right. I’m sore’s a boil. My horse is dead.

      I figured he wasn’t doin’ that act for fun, said Gunsmoke. Cut yore saddle loose — no use losin’ that, too.

      I’ve done got the cinch loose! panted Lightning. What do yuh reckon made that feller shoot?

      His brain’s prob’ly frost-bitten.

      Yeah! grunted Lightning. Prob’ly went back to get a warm one. Here! Hang onto that saddle, until I can git up behind yuh.

      The cattle had stopped, some drifting down into the canyon, while others humped their way further up the slope. Lightning crawled up behind Gunsmoke, who handed the saddle back to him. It is none too comfortable, riding double and carrying a forty-pound saddle.

      I wish I knowed what to do, said

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