seemed to shadow his narrowed eyes.
Lona wiped her eyes and smiled up at Danner. Somehow Danner didn't care about the misunderstanding now.
'You must be hungry,' she said, beaming. 'Supper is about ready. Will you—'
'With pleasure,' Danner asserted. 'Three days of fish, cooked by me, is enough for any man.'
Lona fled to the kitchen.
McDaniel came around the couch then. 'I'm sorry, Jeff. I didn't mean for it to sound the way it did.'
'It doesn't matter,' Danner shrugged. 'It made her happy, so that's the way we'll leave it. And besides, there's still one thing I'd like to clear up before I leave this territory. If I have a legitimate reason for staying around I can move about with less attention.' As an afterthought, he added, 'And maybe Lona is right. Maybe I'll like farming well enough to settle down to it permanently.'
Olie bristled up, his eyes darting from one to the other. 'Just what is it you two are up to?' he demanded. 'Are you buying that Jensen place, or not? I'll not have you making a fool out of my girl.'
'It's nothing like that,' McDaniel protested, with a wave of his arms. 'It's—'
'Forget it, Olie,' Danner interrupted. 'Billy and I will buy the Jensen place tomorrow just like we said.' Then Danner moved out into the night to avoid a clash with the grumpy little Swede.
The purchase of the Jensen farm took less than an hour. Another fifteen minutes were used to buy a team of mules and a wagon. McDaniel drove the wagon toward the general store. Danner rode on the seat beside him. Full of plans, McDaniel had seldom stopped talking all morning.
'We'll need quite a few tools, some paint, plenty of barbed wire—'
'You get it,' Danner interrupted, amused by the enthusiasm of his friend and now partner. 'Just drop me off at the barbershop and I'll join you in an hour or so.'
McDaniel nodded, then slowed the wagon in front of the hotel. Danner dropped to the street and waved him on. Thursday was a slow day in Richfield so Danner didn't have to wait for the barbershop bathtub. He soaked for twenty minutes, then dried off and dressed. A scraping sound reached him as he buckled on his gun belt. Puzzled, he grew wary without knowing why.
Rays of light leaked in through cracks in the partition separating the washroom from the front of the barbershop. Danner moved over to the partition and peered through one of the cracks. A chill gripped him.
Obviously waiting for him in the barbershop, stood Ears and Sam Dooley and their cousin Garr Green, all wearing expectant grins. Ears stood nearest to the door into the washroom, while Garr leaned against the front barber chair, behind which cringed the barber. The most dangerous one of the three, Sam Dooley, lounged against the bare wall to the left of and behind his brother. Strangely, all three seemed to be unarmed. Danner searched for telltale bulges under their shirts, but found none. He thought it over quickly, and decided to play the situation with safety.
A door behind Danner led to the alley out back. Silently he moved over to the door, easing it open. The litter of years lay scattered everywhere and a sour smell added to the unpleasantness of the alley. With great care Danner picked his way along the back of the building to the rear entrance of the hotel next door. Through the narrow hallway and across the lobby he went, then out to the main street and back toward the front of the barbershop. The trio stood much as they were when he had left the washroom. Only now, Sam Dooley was the nearest to Danner.
'Waiting for me, boys?' The sound of his voice brought immediate reactions from the three. Both Sam and Green came erect from their leaning positions, swiveling around with surprise. Ears Dooley whirled with a look of panic that swiftly changed to savage joy. Too late, Danner realized why.
From the seat of the second barber chair Ears scooped up a double-barreled twelve-gauge shotgun. The twin holes in the ends of the shortened barrels gaped menacingly at him.
'You're hipped, Danner,' Ears gloated. Then he spat out a vicious string of curses which Danner endured silently, grinding his teeth in fury at his own blunder. He should have figured something like this. The noise had been deliberate, to draw his eye to the crack in the partition. The lack of visible guns also was for his benefit, to lure him out of the tub room without a gun in his hand. His precaution of circling around had only heightened the sweetness of the triumph now so plain on the grinning faces. Green spat on the floor near Danner's boots, knowing Danner could do nothing about it. Ears Dooley ceased his bitter cursing then.
'Do you want to beg a little before I scatter you all over the walls, Danner?' Ears taunted. His entire body seemed to twitch with repressed emotion. 'How was it when you killed our brothers, Danner? Did they beg, huh? Course, we know better, because they were shot in the back.'
Then Ears broke off to laugh insanely. Still faking a calm he didn't feel, Danner took a single step closer to Sam Dooley but kept his gaze on Ears.
'You don't really think I killed your brothers, do you?'
'That's it, Danner,' Ears squealed with delight. 'Try to talk me out of it—go on—beg some more.'
Sweat popped out on Danner's shoulders, running down his back. He needed two more steps. Sam Dooley stood a little to Danner's left, maybe six feet away, while Ears was about nine feet away and straight back.
'You'll earn yourself a hangman's noose, Ears,' he stalled, venturing another step closer to Sam.
'A medal, you mean!' The crazy giggle came again. 'And who would arrest me, even if the people around here wanted me arrested? Old Man Brant?'
'Now look—' Danner began and suddenly leaped to his left at Sam Dooley, trying to put the chunky body between himself and the muzzle of the shotgun. Surprise washed across Sam's rotund face as the deafening blast of the shotgun shook the room. A single pellet grazed Danner's ribs, but the main force struck Sam Dooley in the back, driving him into Danner's arms. A grunt of anguish came from Sam, then his eyes glazed over and he began to slump. While he still had the protection of Sam's body, Danner reached for his Colts and brought his gun-sights up to the level of Ears Dooley's chest. But as he squeezed the trigger he seemed to see first Lona, then Melinda, standing behind Ears, censure plain on their faces. He moved the sights up and over. The heavy slug caught the last of the Dooley brothers in the right shoulder. Hurled backward and around, Ears crashed to the floor with a cry.
Danner whirled on Garr Green, but Green leaned against the barber chair for support, white with fear. Holstering his gun, Danner moved swiftly to the sobbing Ears Dooley, who sat up now, clutching his shoulder with his left hand.
He should have killed Ears, Danner thought, as a matter of self-protection. After Ears recovered he likely would lay out on the trail somewhere and shoot him in the back. A mass of people crowded around the front door of the barbershop, but none came in until Tom Wainright forced his way through. Wainright stared at Sam Dooley, then at Ears, his eyes plainly showing disbelief. Gradually the disbelief gave way to wrath and he moved closer to Danner.
'You murdered them,' Wainright blazed. 'I wouldn't prosecute, so you set yourself up as judge, jury and executioner.'
'That's right,' Green charged, regaining some of his bluster now. 'He come in with a shotgun and cut down on us for no reason at all—got Sam in the back—and both of them were unarmed. They—' His face paled again under a fixed stare from Danner. His gaze wavered and fell away.
'What about it, Danner?' Wainright snapped. 'What is your alibi this time?'
'Get yourself a badge and maybe I'll answer your questions,' Danner retorted. 'Meanwhile, you might listen to the barber there, not this scum.' He flicked his hand at Garr Green. Then he started toward the crowd of people blocking the doorway, aiming directly at Wainright.
'You're not leaving here until we get this straightened out,' Wainright shouted.
'Who is going to stop me, Wainright? This bunch of gutless wonders?' He gestured toward the crowd. 'Or a one-armed fancy pants who wouldn't know the truth if it hit him in the head?'
Wainright flushed deeply. Immediately Danner regretted the remark. Despite his dislike for Wainright, he felt shame wash over him.
Blind fury showed in the eyes of Wainright, but he made no move to stop Danner. And the crowd of people split apart to permit Danner to walk through unmolested. But he felt somehow less of a man for the remark about
