“You ever tell anyone I did that,” Hickok said gruffly, “and I’ll shoot you in the foot.”
“I won’t tell. I promise.”
“Good. Let’s go grab a bite to eat,” Hickok suggested.
Blade was experiencing an odd constriction in his throat. He coughed, relieving the tension. “I’m with you.”
The two Warriors sauntered toward the glass doors.
“I’ve been thinkin’,” Hickok said.
“About what?” Blade queried.
“The Family will need a new head Warrior,” Hickok observed.
“That’s right.”
“I think I’ll volunteer for the job,” Hickok stated.
“You?”
Hickok glanced at Blade. “And why not, pard? They can’t give the job to just anybody.”
“No, they can’t,” Blade concurred.
“They need someone with a cool head on his shoulders,” Hickok stated.
“Someone who’s calm in any crisis.”
“You?”
“Someone the rest of the Family respects,” Hickok went on. “Someone who’s a born leader.”
“You?”
“Why do you keep sayin’ that?” Hickok asked. “No reason,” Blade said, suppressing a grin, “I sort of like the notion,” Hickok declared. Hickok as the head Warrior? Blade was boggled by the idea. “You think you could handle it, huh?” Hickok chuckled. “Pard, it’d be a piece of cake!”
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