Read Online Silvertip's Roundup by Max Brand - Free Book Online

far away from him, yet he said:
    â€œNow that you understand me, Taxi, please tell me what you’re doing in this part of the world.”
    â€œJoe Feeley was a pal of mine,” said Taxi. He considered the face of Barry Christian and told himself that he would speak the entire truth. To attempt to fence with this man would be insanity.
    â€œAnd Feeley met with an unfortunate accident, and therefore you came out West to look into the matter?”
    â€œThat’s it,” said Taxi. “I got off the train, went to the newspaper office, looked up an old file, and found out that the name of the man who killed Feeley was Charlie Larue. I found out that Feeley had died of what they call self-defense, around here. I thought that probably Charlie Larue might die of the same sort of disease. I went to the Roundup Bar. You know the rest.”
    â€œA simple story,” said Barry Christian in his tenderest accents. “A plain, straightforward, simple tale. Don’t you think so, Pokey?”
    â€œOh, hell!” said Pokey.
    â€œWell,” went on Christian, “you also went to a boarding house run by a charming girl — Sally Creighton. There you met another man. Did you not?”
    â€œI met a fellow called Jim Silver.”
    â€œIn brief, what did he talk to you about?”
    â€œHe told me to watch my step.”
    â€œThat was all?”
    â€œThat was all,” said Taxi.
    He did not need to make up his mind not to repeat the other things which Silver had revealed to him — such things as that Christian was his “hobby,” and that he, Silver, intended to take care of Taxi.
    However formidable a man he might be, however filled with cunning, certainly he had failed lamentably in his promise of protection! But that was all part of the game, no doubt. Perhaps Silver and Christian worked hand in glove, no matter what had been said. Yet it was also possible that Silver had meant what he said. And because of that possibility the creed of Taxi made it impossible for him to repeat a single incriminating thing about the man.
    â€œNow, as a matter of fact,” said Christian, “isn’t it true that you knew what had brought Feeley to this part of the world?”
    â€œNo,” said Taxi.
    Christian smiled. “Isn’t it true,” said he, “that you knew what Feeley had in hand and that you were determined to take a share after his death?”
    â€œNo,” said Taxi.
    â€œIsn’t it true that Jim Silver had sent for you?”
    â€œNo,” said Taxi.
    Christian shook his head as he responded: “I’m sorry that you talk in this manner, my friend. I’m very sorry, because it might bring you to a great deal of trouble. You understand?”
    Taxi nodded. He sat straighter in his chair and lifted the dark lids and looked with his pale, bright eyes straight into the mind of Christian. There he saw, behind the velvet manner, a soul as cold as a stone, a will as relentless as steel.
    â€œI entreat you,” said Christian, “not to be obdurate. I beg you to believe that you are in a very considerable danger at this moment.”
    Taxi smiled. His bright eyes would not leave the face of Christian.
    â€œVery well,” said Christian. He hesitated, considered his victim. Then, in his turn, he smiled. A sharp-eyed devil looked out of his face.
    â€œCall Babe,” he said.
    Pokey got up with a jump. His laughter, like the neighing of a rather distant horse, filled the room.
    â€œThat’s the idea, chief,” said he.
    He flung the door open and called. A heavy voice rumbled in answer. Babe entered the room. Taxi, without turning his head, recognized the weight and drag of that waddling step.
    Christian said: “You used to be able to break a neck, Babe. What about trying the old trick?”

IX
Taxi’s Failure
    C HRISTIAN , standing before the fireplace, took the pipe from his teeth and ran a hand through his