“Green and Larson could damn well fend for themselves. Trask had promised all his men a big payoff, though. It was hard for Joe to balance saving his own hide against maybe being a rich man. Rich by his own lights, anyway, which wouldn’t take all that much since he’d never really had anything to speak of except a horse, an old saddle, and a gun. So he kept climbing, with one hand on Green’s arm to steady him because of the bad leg. In the two days it had taken to get there, the bullet hole in Gr...een’s thigh had started to fester. Green was worried that the leg might have to come off. Joe figured that was a real possibility. He was pretty damn sure Larson’s arm was going to have to go. It was beginning to swell and turn black. The door to Trask’s room was open. They were a sorry-looking bunch as they went inside. The rooms at Zeke’s were nothing fancy, but somehow Jonas Trask made any room he was in seem at least a little elegant. He stood beside a long table with a piece of canvas draped over it, holding a snifter of brandy.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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