Don’t worry if you don’t know a horse’s
ass from its elbow . . . we’ll take anybody!
RIDE GUN FOR RADIGAN
“All right, general hand,” he said, “hear this. Come first light tomorrow, I’m sendin’ you across the plains to Broken Bell on an important mission. You’ll be back in three days, or you’ll be fired. If you refuse the job, you’re already fired.”
Burly Burt Hogg stepped forward, his honest face seamed with concern.
“You can’t send a man off across that sort of country alone, Morg,” he protested.
“Can and am,” Morgan countered. “Unless, of course, your pard here wants to tote iron for the brand, in which case I’ll send Pocock, Baishan and Faro instead. Well, what d’you say, hard-nose?”
“I’ll be ready to ride at daybreak,” Dean replied calmly before walking away.
“You’ll likely croak out there, you stubborn varmint!” Morgan hollered after him. “Comanchero bait!”
No one found that amusing. Morgan wasn’t winning any friends with that comment. But it seemed Jory Dean was continuing to gain ground as Pocock asked wonderingly;
“Why don’t he just agree to ride gun?”
“Because it’s against his principles!” Morgan snarled. He radiated venom as he pointed after Dean’s departing figure. “Take a good look, fellers. There goes a man who’s gonna die for his principles!”