CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Less than an hour earlier, riding hard with their faces set into the rising wind, the bunch of riders, some seven men in all, soon found themselves skirting the town of Whitewater. Weasel, coming alongside Henry, shouted across to his boss, “We is going into town? I thought we was going straight to the mine?”
“No point if we ain’t got that map. We’ll ride into town, find Destry and start to get to the bottom of this.”
“Not sure I wanna go into the town again, Mr Henry. Seems that every time I do, I end up in some sort of trouble.”
Henry could barely suppress his laughter. “You is all bluff, ain’t you boy. With them fancy guns stuffed in your belt you like to think of yourself as a gunfighter, but when the chips are down you ain’t nothing but a momma's boy.”
Chewing
