{"product_id":"kid-rodelo-isbn-9780553588811","title":"Kid Rodelo","description":"Joe Harbin hadn't killed a man for a fortune in gold just to sit in prison and let Rodelo collect it.  But when he and his men break out and head for the stash, they end up with a pair of unwelcome partners: Rodelo and a beautiful woman with a hidden past.  To get fifty thousand dollars in gold across fifty miles of desert, the desperate band quickly learns how much they need each other-—and how deep their greed and suspicion can run.  At the end of the journey lie the waters of Baja and a new life in Mexico, but first they have to survive the savage heat, bounty-hunting Yaqui Indians, and the shifting, treacherous nature of both the desert sands and their own conflicting loyalties.Our foremost storyteller of the American West, \u003cb\u003eLouis L’Amour \u003c\/b\u003ehas thrilled a nation by chronicling the adventures of the brave men and woman who settled the frontier. There are more than three hundred million copies of his books in print around the world.\u003ci\u003eChapter One\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    THE YUMA DESERT, east of the Colorado River mouth, was like the floor   of a furnace; but of the four riders, three were Yaqui Indians and   accustomed to the heat, as were the buzzards swinging in lazy circles   above them. The fourth rider did not mind the heat. He was dead.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    The part of the desert they were now crossing was hard sand. Before   them and on their right were sand dunes. Four days earlier the dead   man had ridden his horse to death in those dunes. Obsessed by the   desire to escape, to reach the boat awaiting him on Adair Bay, he had   not realized until too late how hard he had ridden the animal.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    To attempt the escape across the desert, dotted here and there by   low-growing creosote or burro bush, was madness if he traveled by   day. Yet there was no time to stop. It was the Yaquis, hungry for the   fifty dollars his carcass would bring, who arranged his schedule. It   was run or die, and so he ran . . . and died anyway, for they caught   up with him short of his goal.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Nobody escaped across the Yuma Desert. The Yaqui in the battered   cavalry hat could have told him that, for he had collected bounty on   seventeen bodies, and it made a nice living. The Yaquis knew nothing   about the boat on Adair Bay, and cared less.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    At Yuma Prison, Tom Badger did know about the boat. He had been the   escaped prisoner's only confident, had known of the plans, and had   known that the boat was to appear at a certain place on the shore   each evening for two weeks. The men handling the boat were well paid,   and they knew only that one man, perhaps two or more, would appear   out of the desert. They were to pick those men up, ask no questions,   and sail them to Mazatlan.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Tom Badger had intended to make the break with Isacher, but Isacher   was alone when the chance came and he accepted the chance. Badger had   been left behind, but he did not blame his cell mate. In his place he   would have done the same thing. Now he waited. . . . Had Isacher made   it?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Suddenly he heard the bell toll. One . . . two . . . three . . . four!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    The prison gate had opened and closed. Badger sat up, scratching.   Somebody had come in, and at this hour? It was not quite six in the   morning.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Outside he heard a voice, some distance off and near the gate. It was   plain enough, even at the distance, for in this clear air sounds   carry. \"They brought in another one.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"Who is it?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"Who d'you think? Only one man's escaped from here in six months.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Isacher!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Tom Badger held himself very still, his mind suddenly clear. Isacher   was dead, and there were days to go before the boat would leave Adair   Bay. Isacher had been clear about that, and had planned to arrive on   the first of the fourteen days the boat would spend in the bay. Those   other thirteen days were simply insurance against any delay or   mistake in timing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Whoever was in that boat could know nothing of Isacher's failure.   Therefore if one or more men should arrive at Adair Bay, the boat   would pick them up and take them to Mazatlan. Isacher had failed, but   his death left the door open.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Badger's thoughts were interrupted by a jangle of keys and tramping   feet. Doors opened and he heard the guards turning the convicts out   for the day's work.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Miller came in with the day man and began unlocking the leg-irons   that chained them to the floor.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Gopher looked up, whining, \"I just can't make it today. I-\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"Shut up!\" Tom Badger looked down irritably. Joe Harbin was all   right, but Gopher could do nothing but whine.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"Get your boots on!\" The jailer was impatient. He was a hard man who   allowed no leeway for any of them. Miller, on the other hand, was a   good guard and a fair one. If a con did not make it hard for Miller,   he was inclined to give him any breaks the rules would allow.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"I can't-\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    The jailer nudged Gopher with a boot. \"On your feet!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"Please!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    The jailer raised the keys to strike, but Miller interposed. \"Lay off   him. He took ten lashes yesterday.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"And now he's askin' for ten more.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"Get your boots on, son,\" Miller said. \"Go let the Doc have a look at you.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Slowly, painfully, Gopher pulled on his boots and got to his feet,   lining up in the prison corridor with the others.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    As they marched down the corridor he stared into the cells of the   less troublesome prisoners. In each of them he saw men who were   freshly shaved making up comfortable bunks. At least, they were   comfortable compared to the hard stone floor on which he had slept in   the maximum security cell. Halted briefly, the three saw Danny   Rodelo. He was stripped to the waist while the doctor checked him   over.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Miller watched for a moment. \"Doc?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"Just a minute, guard. I have to check this man for release. He's   going out today.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"Lucky stiff,\" somebody muttered, and Miller glanced around at the   faces of the convicts, but there was no indication who had made the   comment, and he did not press the question.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Rodelo was lucky to get out, any man was. In the case of Dan Rodelo,   however, it had just been bad luck that ever got him in. He was, as   all the prisoners knew, no criminal at all.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Rough, yes . . . and tough. He was a man who would make it the hard   way if necessary, and anybody who bought a piece of his action bought   trouble. Rodelo had done his time standing up. Never a complaint,   never an argument. He did his work every day, and every day's work   was a good one.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"All right, Rodelo.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Dr. Wilson took up his bag and stepped into the corridor. \"What is it, Miller?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"This man-he claims he's sick.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Dr. Wilson glanced at Gopher. \"Oh, it's you, is it?\" Lifting the   man's shirt he looked at the scrawny back, laced with the marks of   the lashes. \"Healing all right.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Dan Rodelo pulled on his shirt while the others watched. He tucked it   under his belt and reached for a necktie.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Joe Harbin stared at him angrily, then started to speak, but Tom   Badger nudged him sharply and Joe closed his mouth.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"You're fit enough,\" Wilson said to Gopher. \"You'd better keep   working or that back will stiffen up.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"You mean I've got to work?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"Everybody works in here, son. Stay out of trouble and one of these   days you'll walk out of here just like Rodelo is. If you make trouble   you'll just get one lashing after another, and when you get out   you'll be ready for the bone yard. Take it from me-I see them all.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Dan Rodelo stood watching them go, then stepped out into the corridor   and walked along to the warden's office. He was aware of the stares   of envy from those he left behind, but he knew few of them, and had   little in common with any of them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    He stopped suddenly. Three Yaquis were bringing in a body. Despite   himself, he stared at the dead face. He knew the man . . . knew him   simply because there was only one man it could be. There was little   about the cadaver he looked upon that resembled the man he had known   by sight.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    There had been rumors about Isacher. He had relatives back East who   had money, and there was a story that some cash had been spread   around. It was still a mystery as to how he had crashed out.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    The prison clerk opened the door to the warden's office. \"Isacher's   body, sir, for your identification.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"Can't you identify him?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"Regulations, sir. It is required that you see the body.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    The warden came to the door and looked down at the dead man. A   slender, attractive man in his late fifties, his military bearing   indicating his background, the warden had no liking for the task.   \"I'd never recognize him,\" he commented. \"He must have gone through   hell.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"Have you seen that desert to the south? I don't think there's   anything like it anywhere else in North America. He was probably half   dead from thirst when they shot him.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    The warden turned away. \"They always do shoot them, don't they?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"A dead man can't drink their water, sir, and down there water is   almighty scarce.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"All right, get him out of here. See that he's properly buried.\" As   an afterthought, he added, \"And be sure you can locate the grave. His   family may want the body, although I doubt it.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    The Yaqui in the cavalry hat stepped forward. \"Oro?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"Pay him,\" the warden said. \"Here . . . I'll sign that.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    He signed the voucher, then glanced up at the clerk. \"I will sign,\"   he said, \"but I will be damned if I approve. No matter what they were   guilty of, it simply isn't right to have them hunted down and killed.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    The clerk was cynical. \"That's how these Yaquis live, sir. I mean the   outfit that hang around the fort.\" He paused. \"I've often thought we   should recruit them, sir, train them into good soldiers. They have   the makings.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"Bloodthirsty savages.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"Some of them.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    The Indian took his money and turned away, and as he did so he saw   Dan Rodelo. For an instant their eyes held, the Yaqui recognizing the   dislike showing in Rodelo's eyes, and letting his own gaze travel   down over Rodelo's outfit. For a convict, which the Yaqui knew he   was, he was dressed very well. The new boots were polished and   shining.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    The Indian pointed at them. \"I have.\" He looked up at Rodelo. \"You   see. Someday I have.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"Sorry,\" Rodelo replied, \"I'm going out the gate. I am free.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Rodelo walked past the Yaqui and stopped in front of the warden's   desk. Something in Rodelo recognized the warden for what he was, and   almost instinctively he stood at attention.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"Well, Rodelo?\" The warden studied him for a moment. \"You were in the Army?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"Yes, sir. The Fifth Cavalry, sir.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    The clerk came to the desk with a brown paper sack and placed it   before Rodelo. Dan glanced down . . . the sack contained his   possessions, and they were very few. He put them in his pockets   without comment, then belted on the holster and gun belt that came   with the sack.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    The warden took a five-dollar gold piece from a drawer and handed it   to Rodelo. \"Here's your discharge money. I am glad to see you leaving   here, Rodelo, and I hope you do nothing to bring you back.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"I've had enough, sir.\" He hesitated. \"It was nothing criminal, when   it comes to that.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"I know. I checked your record.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    The warden seemed reluctant to let him go. \"Rodelo, these are trying   times. Any time of transition is sure to develop situations that are   difficult to handle, but remember that our country is changing. We   cannot live by the gun any longer.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"We have settlers coming from the East every day, we have businessmen   wanting to invest. We must learn to settle our disputes without   gunplay, and we must leave the apprehension of criminals to the law.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"I know, sir.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"I hope you do Rodelo, for I think you're a good man. Stay out of   trouble.\" He looked directly into Rodelo's eyes. \"And stay away from   bad company.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Dan Rodelo backed off a step, then did an about-face and walked out   of the office. He was tight inside with apprehension. Did the warden   know something? Yet how could he?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Nevertheless . . .\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    The guard who walked beside him signaled for the gate to be opened as   they approached it. They paused there briefly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"I'm glad to see you out of here, Dan,\" the guard said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"Thanks, Turkey. I won't say I'll miss it.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Dan Rodelo nodded his head toward the east. \"I've got a good horse   waiting for me over there.\" He turned back. \"Want to do something for   me?\" He took the five-dollar gold piece from his pocket. \"This is for   you if you'll tell Joe Harbin I gave it to you.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"Is that all?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \"That's all.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Turkey stood in the open gateway watching Rodelo walk down the hill,   then he glanced at the gold piece, shrugged, and put it in his   pocket. Now what did all that mean? For a moment he considered   reporting it to the warden, but on second thought it seemed too   trivial. He stepped back and the gates closed behind him.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Thoughtfully, he walked back to the prison yard. Joe Harbin, he knew,   would be in the quarry. A prisoner, Turkey was thinking, who could   give away five dollars for nothing must be a man who had money-or   expected to come into some. And that might be just what he wanted   Harbin to know.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    IT WAS HOT.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Dan Rodelo paused and wiped his hand across his forehead. It was   going to be a long walk to the ghost mining town toward which he was   headed, and he would be better off to wait until after sundown. He   wanted to avoid Yuma, with its curious stares for anyone who came   down the hill from the Territorial Prison. It had been a year since   they had seen him, and only a glimpse then. He wanted no one   remembering him in future years as a man who had done time in Yuma.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    He turned off the road and came to the shade of an abandoned adobe,   where he sat down to wait for the coolness of the evening. Taking his   six-shooter from its holster, he tried the balance of it and checked   the loads. The cartridge belt held only eleven loops that were   carrying shells. He would need ammunition, and he would need a rifle.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    He holstered his pistol and, tilting his hat over his eyes, settled   back to rest. It was very hot, but there was a faint breeze from off   the river.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    As he dozed he remembered the Yaqui in the beat-up old cavalry hat,   and for a moment felt a twinge of chill. What was it they said caused   that? It was when somebody stepped on your grave.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e      --","brand":"Bantam","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46300937715941,"sku":"NP9780553588811","price":8.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780553588811.jpg?v=1767730705","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/kid-rodelo-isbn-9780553588811","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}