FORTY-THREE
“So you’re calling for us to all go over there and brace Trench and his men,” Heck Thomas said.
“I am.”
“What if they don’t back down?” Reeves said.
“Look who we have here,” Clint said, pointing up and down the Buckskin bar, where they were standing. “Who would go up against this?”
“An egomaniac,” Bat said.
“A what?” Reeves asked.
“A man looking for a reputation,” Luke Short said.
“Not to mention money,” Tom Horn said.
“Tom’s right,” Heck said. “Trench’s men are probably gettin’ paid plenty to face us.”
The bartender, O’Day, spoke up after listening awhile.
“You want I should send somebody over to take a look at the Crystal?” he asked.
“That’s a good idea, Kelly,” Clint said. “Let’s get some idea of what Conlon and Trench are planning.”
“You got it.”
O’Day went to the end of the bar and talked to a man, who then ran out through the batwings, leaving them swinging behind him.
“He’ll be right back,” he told them.
“So what do we have?” Clint asked. “Five of us?”
“Six,” Horn said. “I’m in.”
“Why?” Clint asked. “This isn’t your fight, Tom. You just got here.”
“You stood with me against Craddock,” Horn said. “That’s all the reason I need.”
“What about Baca?” Reeves asked. “He’s still in the Crystal.”
“That’ll be up to him,” Clint said. “Let’s just say there’s six of us for now.”
“This is all so stupid,” Bat said. “We all got sucked in by Conlon. All of us, along with the likes of Hardin, Allison, and Miller. We should all just ride out, leave Conlon with an empty saloon.”
“We could do that,” Clint said. “Why don’t we put it to a vote? I’ll go along with the majority.”
“Why don’t we wait for O’Day’s man to come back before we decide?” Luke said.
At that moment the man came bursting through the doors, pointing behind him.
“They got a bunch of men waitin’ in front of the Crystal,” he said.
“Who?”
“I dunno all of ’em,” the man said. “Trench is leadin’ ’em, and they got that bounty hunter and Killin’ Jim Miller standin’ with them.”
“Not Hardin?” Heck Thomas asked. “Or Allison?”
“Not that I saw. Just a bunch of Trench’s security guards—or whatever he calls ’em.”
“Thanks, Pete,” O’Day said. “Have a drink on the house.”
“Thanks, Kelly.”
Pete went to the other end of the bar.
“Looks like we may have had the vote taken out of our hands,” Luke said.
“How so?” Bat asked.
“You think they’re going to let us walk past the saloon to the livery to get our horses?”
“They want this to happen,” Heck said.
“Which means,” Bat added, “they think they’ve got an edge.”
“Well,” Clint said, “they’ve got the law on their side, if we’re right.”
“And maybe more guns than you can see out front,” Tom Horn said.
“That means the rooftops,” Bat said, “and maybe some windows.”
“How do we manage to switch the edge over to us?” Luke Short asked.
“I think for that,” Clint said, “we probably just have to show up.”
FORTY-FOUR
Clint, Bat, Luke, Heck Thomas, Bass Reeves, and Tom Horn all left the Buckskin and started walking over to the Crystal.
“You know,” Bat said to Clint as they brought up the rear, “if they don’t back off, we’ll have to go through with this.”
“I know it,” Clint said, “but I’m tired of waiting, and I’m tired of being played.”
“Well,” Bat said, “I’d sure like it better if Conlon was on the street with his men.”
“We can go and see him after,” Clint said.
“If there is an after,” Bat said. “You know there’s a chance one of us will catch a lucky bullet.”
“There’s always that chance,” Clint said.
Bat looked up and down the street as they came within sight of the Crystal.
“What are you looking for?” Clint asked.
“The sheriff,” Bat said. “I thought maybe he’d put in an appearance on this.”
“He will,” Clint said, “when the shooting is all over and done with.”
* * *
“Here they come,” Trench said. “Get ready.”
“Is Horn with ’em?” Craddock asked.
“He’s there,” Trench said. He looked to his left at Sykes, his right hand. “Those men on the roof?”
“They’re there, boss,” Sykes said. “Across the street, and right above us.”
“Good. This should go just fine.”
* * *
Sheriff Burle watched from his position across the street as Clint, Bat, and the others approached the Crystal. If this worked out the way it was supposed to, he wouldn’t have to wear his badge for very much longer. No more forty-a-month job for him.
Ever again.
* * *
As they approached the Crystal, they moved six abreast. Clint had Bat and Luke on his left, with Reeves, Heck, and Tom Horn on his right.
Trench knew what he was doing, as he had his men all fanned out in front of the saloon, including Dutch Craddock and Jim Miller. Clint was pleased to see that John Wesley Hardin and Clay Allison had decided not to take a hand in this game.
* * *
“Adams,” Trench said.
“Trench,” Clint said. “What’s this about? We were just coming in for a drink.”
“You and your friends already had lots of drinks in here,” Trench said. “I think you’re here for another reason.”
“Same reason as always,” Clint said. “A wake. We think it’s time your boss got it under way.”
“I think that’s up to my boss.”
“Well,” Clint said, “we aim to help him make up his mind.”
“You ain’t comin’ in, Adams.”
“How do you intend to stop us, Trench?”
“The same way we stopped those others,” Trench said. “We’ll leave you all lyin’ in the street, Mr. Gunsmith.”
“No doubt there are going to be a lot of bodies lying in the street, Mr. Trench.”
“Then call it,” Trench said.
“I’m going to leave that to you, Trench,” Clint said. “This bloodbath is going to be your mistake.”
But even as he said it, he wasn’t sure he was right. They had all had their chance to ride out and avoid bloodshed, but here they were. Sometimes a man just couldn’t avoid making a mistake.
FORTY-FIVE
Alicia’s room was in the front of the Crystal, so she was able to look down at the street. She could see Clint and his friends fanned out in front of the saloon. She could not see Trench and his men, but she knew they were on the boardwalk beneath her. But she was able to see the men with rifles that Trench had placed on the roof across the street. And if they were on that roof, they had to be on the roof above her as well. Clint and his friends were sitting ducks.
“Oh my God,” she said, and ran downstairs.
* * *
Trench’s men all looked to him for their cue. They were all assured of extra money if they came out of this alive. And it was enough money to make it well worth the risk that was involved with facing a bunch of Old West legends.
* * *
Craddock had his eyes on Tom Horn, who was looking right back at him. They only had eyes for each other, leaving the other men t
o deal with one another.
This was where Craddock expected to collect the considerable bounty he’d come for.
* * *
Killin’ Jim Miller was simply in the mood to kill someone—anyone.
Why else would they call him Killin’ Jim?
* * *
Clint was prepared for Trench to call the play, and the way he’d call it was to go for his gun. He was probably no fast draw, but a steady hand with a gun. A man who didn’t panic, and could shoot, was much more dangerous than a fast gun. Fast guns often missed their first shot. A man with a steady hand did not miss.
Craddock was the same. He’d make his move smoothly and assured, not particularly fast. Clint decided to leave the bounty hunter to Horn.
But this surely wasn’t all they would have to deal with. It couldn’t be. His back was just itching way, way too much, and that was always bad news.
* * *
Trench took his time. He knew he was facing men of ability, men of experience, men who had killed before, but he still felt they had to be straining to pull their guns. And they were waiting for him.
Let them wait . . .
* * *
What the hell was holding everything up? Sheriff Burle wondered.
In his office Ben Conlon was waiting for the sound of shots.
Alicia was leading a man up the stairs to the second floor, and to the hatch that led to the roof.
Even the patrons of the saloon, who knew something was going on, were straining to hear.
Everybody was waiting for Trench.
* * *
Trench finally moved, and everything was set into motion . . .
FORTY-SIX
Clint was impressed.
Trench not only drew coolly and smoothly, but was pretty fast. Still, while Trench made the first move, the first shot was fired by the Gunsmith.
And then all hell broke loose . . .
* * *
Horn and Craddock drew together, and as Horn heard the first shot, he extended his gun toward the bounty hunter. They were both very deliberate, and fired at almost the same time . . .
* * *
The others knew that Clint was going to take Trench first, and Horn would handle Craddock. Bat and Luke drew their guns and simply began firing at the bodies in front of them.
Heck Thomas drew and immediately turned to fire at the rooftops behind them, as planned. If there had been no guns there, he would have turned back, but he quickly saw that the assumption they had all made had been correct. Trench had set up an ambush.
Bass Reeves drew and turned his attention to the rooftops above and in front of them. Surprised that there were no guns there, he quickly turned and assisted Heck Thomas with the guns that were behind them. Rifles fell from that roof, and men tumbled after them . . .
* * *
Clint’s bullet struck Trench in the chest and drove him back through the batwing doors into the saloon, where he landed on his back, dead. The bartender left the bar and ran up to Conlon’s office.
“Boss,” he said, busting in, “Trench is dead!”
“Damn it!” Conlon said. He opened his top drawer, took out a gun, and set it on the desktop. “Get out!”
* * *
Craddock felt Horn’s bullet as it punched into his shoulder. He fired, saw his bullet strike Horn in the side, but he knew it wasn’t a killing shot. Neither was Horn’s first, but his second hit Craddock in the chest, sent him crashing through the saloon window, where he joined Trench on the floor . . .
* * *
Killin’ Jim Miller immediately saw that things were not going well. His horse was in front of the saloon, so he ran for it, mounted up, and rode out. No one cared that he was riding out, only that he wasn’t shooting at them.
* * *
As Trench fell through the batwing doors, Clint turned his attention elsewhere. He also looked at the rooftops above them, but had no time to wonder why no one was shooting at them from there. He began firing at the uniformed security force, who seemed to be in a panic now that their boss was dead. Maybe they were wondering if they’d still get paid. But first they’d have to come through this alive.
As uniformed men fell in the street, the remaining force tossed their guns down and put their hands up.
It was over . . .
* * *
They checked the bodies to be sure they were dead. Clint looked around, expecting to see either Sheriff Burle or Ben Conlon, but neither man appeared.
“What happened up there?” Bat said, looking up at the rooftops. “Why put guns behind us, but not above us?”
“I don’t know, but—”
At that moment the batwings opened and four men in uniforms came out, their hands in the air, with Elfego Baca behind them. He holstered his gun and smiled at Clint.
“These pendejos were on the roof. I think perhaps they were looking for trouble. I saved them.”
“Much obliged, Elfego,” Clint said.
“That was sure a big help,” Heck Thomas said.
“Por nada, mis amigos,” Baca said. “I am happy to help. And am I to assume there will be no wake?”
“Probably not,” Clint said, “but we were just going to go and check on that.”
“Bueno,” the young lawman said. “I will remain out here and help.”
Since the sheriff had not appeared, Bass Reeves—still wearing his deputy’s badge—took control of the situation.
“Ready to go see Conlon?” Clint asked Bat.
“Yeah,” Bat said. “But this time I think I’ll shoot him.”
FORTY-SEVEN
Clint and Bat marched into Conlon’s office without knocking. From down the hall, Alicia came out and crept to the open doorway.
From behind his desk, Conlon looked up at them. His gun was still on the desk in front of him.
“Time for us to take a look at that body, Conlon,” Bat said.
“Trench?”
“Dead,” Clint said, “along with a bunch of his men.”
“There are still some men in that room with the casket,” Conlon said.
“Well, you’re gonna tell them to open the door and put down their guns,” Bat said.
“What for?”
“So we can see the body,” Clint said.
“There’s no need,” Conlon said. “It’s not him.”
“So you have been lying,” Clint said.
“Yes. But it wasn’t my idea.”
“Whose was it?” Clint asked.
“It was mine.”
Clint and Bat turned, saw Sheriff Jim Burle holding Alicia in one hand and his gun in the other.
“You boys are under arrest,” he said.
“For what?” Clint asked.
“For ruinin’ my plans,” Burle said. “But I’m gonna try to save them by putting you in my jail before you can talk and tell people what you know.”
“What about the others?” Clint asked. “Bass Reeves, Heck Thomas, the rest. They’ll talk.”
“They’d only be guessing,” Burle said. “You two are the only ones who know for sure.”
“We’ll tell them,” Bat said, “even from jail.”
“Not if you’re killed tryin’ to escape,” Burle said with a smile.
“You know,” Clint said, “I really underestimated you, Burle.”
“Yeah, I know,” Burle said. “That was part of the plan, too.”
Burle was overconfident. He was standing with Alicia only partially shielding him.
“Well then, no,” Clint said, “we won’t be going to jail.”
Burle waggled the barrel of his gun and said, “I think you are. Now drop those guns.”
“I don’t think so,” Clint said. “Bat, you take Conlon. I’ll take the sheriff.”
“You’d shoot a man wearin’ a badge, Adams?” Burle asked.
“You don’t deserve to wear it.”
“So what are you gonna do?” Burle asked. “Draw on me? With my gun already in my hand? And shoot me through this woman?”
“Bat?”
“Ready.”
Too late Conlon grabbed for his gun. Bat drew and shot him through the chest.
Clint drew before Burle knew what was happening and shot the crooked lawman in the forehead. His eyes went wide, then he released both Alicia and his gun, and toppled over backward.
“Oh my God!” Alicia said, stunned. “You could have hit me!”
“Never,” Bat assured her. “He only hits what he shoots at.”
“Alicia,” Clint said, “you better go down and get those men out of that room, tell them it’s all over.”
“What about the wake?” she asked.
“There’s no wake, because there’s no body,” Clint said. “At least, not the body of Tanner Moody.”
“Oh.”
“And I think with Conlon dead,” Clint said, “this place goes to you. What do you think?”
She grinned and said, “I think that’s fine.”
As she left, Bat said to Clint, “What are we going to tell those people downstairs?”
“That Tanner Moody is still alive out there somewhere,” Clint said. “Those who really wanted him to be dead can go and look for him, and take care of it themselves.”
Watch for
DEATH IN THE DESERT
383rd novel in the exciting GUNSMITH series from Jove
Coming in November!
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