Bat Masterson, Luke Short, and Heck Thomas watched him go up.
“I guess he really isn’t interested in the wake,” Heck said.
“He’s probably been on the trail for a long time,” Bat said. “We all know what that’s like.”
“Yeah,” Heck said, “a beer, a poke, and then a steak.”
“Not necessarily in that order,” Luke said, and they laughed.
The three friends turned and faced the bar.
“What do you think?” Bat asked.
“About what?” Heck asked.
“Horn.”
“Is he a killer?” Luke asked.
“Tom will kill if he feels it’s necessary,” Heck said. “How is that any different from the rest of us?”
* * *
Craddock followed the girl into her room.
“What’s your pleasure, cowboy?” she asked. She turned to face him with her hands on her hips. She was medium height, slender, but with large breasts, which Craddock liked. She looked to be about twenty-five.
“I’m not a cowboy,” he said. “Take off your dress.”
“No, you ain’t,” she said. “I heard some talk about you downstairs.” She reached behind her to undo her dress.
“Did you?” he said. “What did they say?”
“That you hunt men,” she said, letting her dress drop to the floor with a whisper of the fabric on her skin. “That you kill them.” She stepped out of the dress and kicked it away. She was naked, her dark brown nipples already puckering.
He knew the talk of killing was getting her excited. He walked past her, took off his gun belt, and hung it on the bedpost, then undid his belt and the buttons of his trousers.
“I kill them when they make me,” he said. “When they leave me no choice. Now come over here.”
She walked over to him. He could smell her skin, and the wetness between her legs. His own excitement was building.
“Take them down,” he said.
She got down on her knees, tugged on his trousers until they and his underwear were around his ankles. His hardening cock sprang out at her, almost hitting her in the nose.
“Suck it,” he said.
She smiled at him, wrapped one hand around his cock, and said, “You don’t leave me much choice, do you?”
“No,” he said, “I don’t.”
TWENTY-THREE
“So the Crystal Queen is part of your rounds?” Clint asked Thad.
“Yessir.”
“How come I haven’t seen you in there today, or yesterday?” Clint asked.
“Um . . .” “Did the sheriff tell you not to go in?”
“No, sir.”
“Then what? Were you nervous about going in?”
“Yessir.”
“All right, then,” Clint said. “Why don’t we go inside together?”
“You and me?”
“That’s right.”
“Well . . . yessir.”
“Good man,” Clint said, slapping the young deputy on the back.
They went through the batwing doors, into the Crystal Queen.
Bat saw Clint in the mirror, then turned and shielded his eyes.
“The badge, the badge,” he said. “It’s too bright.”
In point of fact, the badge was sort of tarnished.
“Very funny,” Clint said. “This is Deputy Burnett. Thad, this is Luke Short, that’s Heck Thomas, and the funny man is Bat Masterson.”
“Wow,” Thad said. “It’s an honor to meet you all.” But at the time his eyes were searching the crowd.
“Lookin’ for the bad men?” Bat asked.
Thad blushed, looked down, and said, “Well . . .”
“Hardin is halfway down the bar, Clay Allison is all the way at the end,” Luke said.
“Where’s Craddock?’ Clint asked.
“Went upstairs with a girl,” Heck said.
“Has Conlon been out?”
“Haven’t seen him,” Bat said.
“We’re getting on toward dusk,” Clint said. “He better get this thing started soon or he’s going to have a revolt on his hands.”
“He’s sellin’ a lot of whiskey,” Heck said.
“Which could be good,” Bat said, “or bad.”
“For her,” Luke said.
* * *
Upstairs, the girl, whose name was Delilah, was avidly sucking on what she was thinking of as a killer’s cock.
Craddock growled as she gobbled his cock, which, despite its size, she was able to take all the way in. She wet it thoroughly, let it pop from her mouth, then took it in again. Then Craddock got into it, moving his hips, and she simply kept her mouth open and let him fuck it, in and out, in and out . . .
Finally, she cradled his balls in her hand, at the same time teasing his anus with one finger. He reached down and pushed her away.
“None of that!” he said. “Don’t touch my asshole!”
“Hey,” she said, “whatever you want, sweetie. And you just tell me what you don’t want.”
“I don’t want anybody touchin’ my bumhole. Got it?”
“I got it,” she said, getting to her feet warily. “Come on, get on the bed, honey. I’ll make you feel real good.”
She reached down, helped him step out of his pants. She sat him on the bed and took off his boots and socks. When he was completely naked, she got him onto his back. His cock stuck straight up impressively.
“Oh yes,” she said, straddling him . . .
* * *
“Maybe you should go up and talk to Conlon again,” Bat said to Clint.
“Or the woman,” Luke said.
“Her name’s Alicia,” Clint said.
“Oh,” Luke said, “excuse me.”
“Bat, I think you should go up,” Clint said. “I have to finish my rounds with young Thad here.”
“Huh?” Thad said. “Oh, uh, yeah, we do.”
“See?” Clint said.
“If I go up there,” Bat said, “I’ll end up killin’ the sonofabitch.” He looked at Luke Short.
“Don’t look at me,” Short said, shaking his head. “I’m very happy to stand here and drink with my friends. Or find a poker game.”
Heck silently observed the conversation, keeping out of it while working on his beer. Like Luke Short, he was not becoming impatient with the situation.
“Come on, Thad,” Clint said. “We’ve got work to do.”
Clint left his friends to discuss the matter further, went out the batwing doors, pushing the young deputy ahead of him.
TWENTY-FOUR
Craddock pinned the girl to the bed with his hands on her wrists, and his body on hers. She struggled, but only because she thought he wanted her to. She was still excited by being with a man who was known as a killer.
When his penis entered her vagina forcefully, her eyes went wide and she gasped. After that, he began to pound away at her, harder and harder. She knew she was going to be sore, was going to come away from this with bruises and welts, but she didn’t care.
Craddock the killer had chosen her!
* * *
“Maybe,” Bat said to Luke Short and Heck Thomas, “we can sneak back there and get a look at the body.”
“To what end?” Luke asked.
“Well, once we’re sure he’s dead,” Bat said, “we can leave.”
“Without payin’ our respects?” Heck asked.
“Come on,” Bat said, “when you think about it, how many of us do you think are actually here to do that? And what does it matter if we see him on our own, or with everyone else when the wake begins?”
“If it begins,” Luke said.
“What are you sayin’?” Heck asked.
“What if there’s no body?” Luke asked
.
“You mean he’s not dead?” Heck asked.
“And never was,” Bat said. “You know, that’s something Conlon would dream up to get himself some business.”
“Yeah, but then how does he explain it?” Heck asked.
“He just says he made a mistake,” Bat said.
“So you’re sayin’,” Heck went on, “that there is a body back there, but it’s not—”
“Exactly,” Luke Short.
“Then he could just as well have said that Clint Adams, the Gunsmith, was dead, and everybody should come to his wake.”
“Except that when Clint heard that, he’d come, too,” Bat said.
“So you’re sayin’—” Heck said.
“Yup,” Luke said.
“He could be in here right now,” Bat said.
They all turned to face the saloon and scan the crowd with their eyes.
“Well,” Bat said, “I guess we’re gonna have to get a look at that body.”
He turned and waved the bartender over.
“’Nother one?” the man asked.
“Where’s the body?”
“Huh?”
“The body for the wake,” Bat said. “Where’s it bein’ kept?”
“Um, well, the back room.”
“Is that the room where they’re gonna show it?” Luke Short asked.
“No,” the bartender said. “They’ll bring it from the storeroom in the back and put it back there in a room we use for private games.”
“Locks on the doors?” Heck asked.
“Yessir.”
“Both rooms?” Bat asked.
“Yessir.”
“Who’s got the keys?”
“Just Mr. Conlon.”
“Nobody else?”
“No sir.”
“All right,” Bat said. “Bring three more beers.”
“Yessir.”
“So what do you wanna do?” Heck asked. “Break into the back room?”
“That’s what I was thinkin’,” Bat said. “What about you, Luke?”
“It’s against the law,” Luke said.
“So?” Bat asked.
“We’ve got to remember who’s wearin’ a badge in this town now.”
“Right,” Bat said, “Clint and Reeves.”
“We’d have to figure out a way to handle that,” Luke said.
“We could let them in on our plan,” Bat said.
“Maybe,” Heck suggested, “before we do that, we should actually have a plan.”
“Good point,” Bat said. “Let’s come up with one.”
“But what if Conlon is close to opening up the room for the wake?” Heck asked. “Maybe we should find out before we make a move.”
“And that would mean Bat going up to talk to him again,” Luke said.
“And that means one of you will have to come with me to keep me from killing him.”
“I guess that would be me,” Heck said.
“Be my guest,” Luke said. “I’ll take a turn around the saloon, take a look at that back room. Maybe I can see a way to get in.”
“All right,” Bat said. “We’ll meet you back here in twenty minutes.”
“Unless you kill Conlon,” Luke Short said. “In that case, I’ll see you in jail.”
TWENTY-FIVE
Clint and Thad finished their rounds without much incident. They had to break up a fight in a small saloon, and settle an argument over a bottle of whiskey in another, but that was all.
“This is the only kind of action I ever see,” Thad said as they left the second saloon and started back to the sheriff’s office.
“And you want to see another kind?”
“Yes.”
“If that was true,” Clint said, “then you would have gone into the Crystal Queen before now.”
Thad looked down.
“I wanted to, but I was too . . .”
“Frightened?”
“N-No,” Thad said. “N-Nervous.”
There was only a slight difference, but Clint let the matter drop.
As they entered the sheriff’s office, Clint could smell fresh coffee.
“Finished?” Sheriff Burle asked.
“For now,” Clint said. “Is that fresh?”
Burle gestured with his white mug and said, “Help yourself.”
“Reeves and Billy aren’t back yet?” Clint asked, pouring himself a cup. He offered a cup to Thad, who turned it down.
“What do you think of our fair town?” Burle asked.
“It’s prospering,” Clint said.
“Yes, it is.”
“Looks like new buildings are going up all the time.”
“They are.”
“I would think the town council would allow you some more deputies to police it.”
“I’ve asked,” Burle said. “Thad and Billy work for very little. You and Reeves are volunteers.”
“More like draftees,” Clint said, “but I get your point. But surely, with all the extra guns in town, they would come up with some extra money.”
“Well,” Burle said, “I’ve assured them I can handle things.”
“And can you?”
“With your help,” Burle said, “and the help of Bass Reeves, yes.”
“But what if we decided to leave town?” Clint asked. “And take our friends with us?”
“Then that would reduce the number of guns in town, wouldn’t it?” Burle asked.
“You have a point,” Clint said. “If we all left town, things would be less tense.”
“But John Wesley Hardin, Jim Miller, and Clay Allison would still be here,” Thad pointed out. “And many of the others.”
“Like Craddock,” Clint said.
Burle sat back in his chair.
“I expect most of the trouble to come from him,” the lawman said.
“If Tom Horn arrives in town,” Clint said.
“And who knows who else will arrive?” Thad asked.
“It’s dark,” Burle said. “When Reeves and Billy come back, three of you should go and get some supper. Thad, you and Billy decide who will stay here at the office.”
“Yessir.”
“Tell me something, Sheriff,” Clint said.
“What’s that?”
“Conlon,” Clint said. “Who works for him?”
“He’s got lots of employees.”
“Yes, but any guns?”
“Plenty,” Sheriff Burle said. “He calls them his security force.”
“I haven’t seen any of them.”
“That’s because he’s got them guarding the body,” Burle said, “until it’s time for the wake.”
“Whenever that will be,” Clint said.
“Well, whenever it is,” Burle said, “whenever he puts the body on display, his men will be guarding it.”
“But they’re guarding it now, right?”
“Yes.”
“So if someone got impatient, and tried to see the body ahead of time, they’d stop them, right?”
“And if I know those men—and I do—they wouldn’t just stop them. They’re led by a man named Trench.”
“Trench?” Clint said. “That name sounds familiar. Trench . . .”
“He had a reputation,” Burle said. “Before he came here months ago . . .”
“Yes,” Clint said “A rep with his gun.”
“Fast and deadly,” Burle said. “That’s what they say about him.”
“And about a lot of the men who are here in town,” Clint said. “With Trench guarding the body, there’s bound to be trouble.”
“I think so.”
Clint put his cup down on the desk and stood up.
“When Bass comes back,
tell him I’ve gone to the Crystal Queen.”
“To do what?” Burle asked.
“To make sure that nobody gets impatient,” Clint said.
TWENTY-SIX
Bat Masterson and Heck Thomas went up the stairs to Ben Conlon’s office. Heck knocked, and they waited. The door was opened by Conlon himself.
“Masterson,” Conlon said, then looked at Heck. “What happened to Adams?”
“He’s busy. Can we come in?”
“Sure,” Conlon said. He backed away and allowed them to enter. “Close the door, please.”
Bat closed it.
“Who’s your friend?”
“Heck Thomas,” Heck said, introducing himself.
“Ah, the famous detective. And what are you detecting today?”
“I’m tryin’ to find out when the wake is gonna start,” Heck said.
“Me, too,” Conlon said.
“What’s that mean?” Bat asked.
“I’m looking for my undertaker,” Conlon said. He shrugged. “Can’t find him.”
“Why don’t you just wheel the body out, then?” Bat asked. “Let everybody have a look?”
“I can’t,” Conlon said. “I’m no expert. I don’t know if the body is ready to be viewed.”
“All right, then,” Bat said, “just let us have a look. Then we can be on our way.”
“Oh, I can’t do that, Bat,” Conlon said.
“Why not?”
“If I do it for you, I’ll have to do it for everyone downstairs.”
“We won’t tell them,” Heck said.
“You’ll tell your friends,” Conlon said, “and they’ll tell someone. It would get out. And then I’d be in a lot of trouble.” Conlon sat down behind his desk. “I just can’t do it, Bat. Sorry.”
“That’s okay,” Bat said. “I figured you’d say that. We’ll get out of your way.”
Bat and Heck headed for the door.
“So what are you gonna do?” Conlon asked.
Bat opened the door, turned, and looked at the saloon owner.
“I can’t tell you, Conlon,” he said. “If I do, I’d have to tell everybody downstairs . . . wouldn’t I?”
TWENTY-SEVEN
Clint entered the saloon, looked around, spotted Luke Short at the bar.
“Where are Bat and Heck?”
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