Just the very next day after the shooting contest, Lindley Quintan managed to find something to drink - even in a dry town like Maddock. Bolstered by the drink and willing to share his tale to any man who would listen he was seen striding through Shady Lane hollering to any man (or woman) who might listen. "Did you head what Lindley Quintan was saying back at the saloon after the cookoff?"
"Nah, but I can guess! Was it something like 'give me another drink so I can fall down'?"
The two cowpokes break into a burst of laughter and then one of them continues.
"Nah, ain't nothin' like that. Though from the looks of him he was only a few steps from falling face down in the mud." The hand lowers his voice and continues the rumor that is passing like lightening through the town. "He said Karl done left the ranch and all his money to Joshua Quintan."
"The crippled boy?"
"Uhuh. Not a penny to either of the boys."
"Now that makes no sense at all, why would Karl Quintan leave all his money to his grandchild?"
"Dunno, but Lindley was downright pissed he was." Both angry /and/ drunk. "Said his brother got what he deserved, being left out of the will. Said he was a piss poor brother and a son."
The silence follows. "Don't think the older Quintan's going to take likely to such an insult. Lindley leave town yet?"
"Nope."
Return to the Archive