Read Trail to Shasta (9781101622049) for Free Online

river.”
    â€œI would love to ride a riverboat,” Bride said.
    â€œCan we?” Bridget asked Clint.
    â€œI’m afraid not,” Clint said. “But once your sister marries Ed, I’m sure he’d be happy to take you ladies on the riverboat.”
    â€œMr. O’Neil is a hard worker,” Bridget observed.
    â€œYes, he is,” Clint said.
    As they walked past the front desk, Clint noticed the clerk looking at him with a worried expression. When the clerk noticed Clint looking, he averted his eyes.
    â€œWhy don’t you girls go on up to your room,” Clint said. “I’ll be along later to answer any questions and say good night.”
    â€œVery well,” Bridget said. “Come along, Bride.”
    He watched as they walked up the stairs, then turned and went over to the front desk.
    â€œMr. Adams,” the clerk said nervously. “W-What can I do for you, sir?”
    â€œYou can tell me why you’re so nervous,” Clint said.
    â€œNervous? I’m not nervous.”
    â€œCome on, son,” Clint said. “Don’t make me drag it out of you.”
    The young man looked crestfallen, his shoulders slumping.
    â€œA man was here looking for you.”
    â€œFor me?”
    â€œWell,” the clerk said, “he didn’t ask for you by name, but later I realized what he was doing.”
    â€œAnd what was he doing?”
    â€œHe flummoxed me.”
    â€œFlummoxed?”
    â€œMade a fool of me,” the man said. “Got me to tell him your name.”
    â€œWait a minute,” Clint said. “Try explaining this to me slower.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    After a few minutes Clint understood what had happened.
    â€œDon’t feel bad,” Clint said. “There are other ways he could have found out who I am.”
    â€œThank you, Mr. Adams,” the clerk said, “but I guess that don’t make me feel better about bein’ fooled.”
    â€œI understand,” Clint said.
    â€œWhat should I say if the man comes back?”
    â€œI don’t think he’ll be coming back. He’ll know you told me about him.”
    â€œBut . . . he told me not to.”
    â€œBut you did anyway,” Clint said. “He’ll know that. And thanks.”
    Clint left the desk and walked up to the second floor. He considered stopping at the girls’ room, but instead went directly to his.
    He’d had the feeling once or twice that they were being watched, but his attention had mostly been on seeing that the Shaughnessy sisters got what they wanted, and needed. Now he realized they might have been followed, all the way from New York—even from the docks.
    He went to the window and looked down at the front of the hotel. There were people walking by in all directions, but he didn’t see anyone who might have simply been watching the hotel.
    He went to his bag, took out the curled-up gun and holster, uncurled it, and strapped it on.

TWELVE
    Clint went back down to the front of the hotel to take a better look.
    â€œCan I help you with something, sir?” the doorman asked.
    â€œHuh? Oh, no,” Clint said. “I just thought I saw someone I know, from my window. Have you seen anyone watching the hotel?”
    â€œWatching?”
    â€œYes,” Clint said, “not coming in, or going out, just standing and . . . watching.”
    â€œNo, sir,” the doorman said. “Nobody like that.”
    â€œOkay,” Clint said, “thank you.”
    He went back inside, up to the second floor, and knocked on the door of the Shaughnessy sisters. It was answered by Bridget.
    â€œAre you both all right?” he asked.
    She looked at him, at the gun on his hip, then said, “Yes, we are fine.”
    â€œDo you need anything?”
    â€œNo,” she said, “nothing . . . not yet.”
    â€œWell, I’ll be in my room for the rest of the