up. Might be somebody knows something. Sure do have a nice selection here. Zeke. Say, isn’t that one of those new Colt bisley target models?”
“A Bisley Bailey said, with a frown. “No, that can’t be. They didn’t make those until..
His voice trailed off.
“Until 1894,” said Scott, softly. “That’s thirteen years from now.”
Bailey swallowed hard.
At that moment, the door to the shop opened and the proprietor. George Spangenberg, entered. “See we got us a customer, Zeke,” he said. “Say, aren’t you the Montana Kid?”
“That’s right,” said Scott, not taking his eyes off Zeke Bailey, who was suddenly perspiring. “I just told Zeke here I was admiring your selection. He sold me some nice guns.” He held up the knife. “Bought one of his knives, too.”
“Is that right?” said Spangenberg, with mild surprise. “Heck, and I told him we’d never sell that thing. No damn good for skinning. I told him. Not much you can do with a knife like that ‘cept stick it in somebody.”
“Be a pretty good knife for that, though.” Scott said. He smiled at Zeke. “You might even say it’s ahead of its time.” He touched the brim of his hat. “Be seein’ you, gents.”
“Stop in anytime. Kid.” said Spangenberg.
Scott paused by the door. “I’ll do that. Nice talkin’ to you, Zeke. We’ll have to do it again real soon.”
“Seemed like a nice fella,” Spangenberg said, after Scott had left. “Heard he shot four men over at the… say, Zeke, you fellin’ all right’? You look white as a sheet.”
“Okay. people, we’ve got a problem. According to ‘history, there was never anyone known as the Montana Kid in this temporal scenario. So who the fuck is he?”
Tim O’Fallon looked around at the men stated at the table in the ranch house. He was young, slim, and good looking, with dark hair and a neat moustache. His eyes were large and expressive. His features were not entirely his own. They had been altered with cosmetic surgery to match the features of the man whose place he’d taken, a man who now lay buried in an unmarked grave in the Chiricahau Mountains a few miles outside of Galeyville.
“Could be just another young gun out trying to make a rep for himself.” said one of the other men. “Somebody only passing through, someone who never achieved any real notoriety.”
“I don’t buy it.” said O’Fallon. “Word is he’s greased lightning with a gun. They say he’s even faster than Wyatt Earp. It’s hard to believe someone like that could have been a complete historical nonentity. What’s more, both the Nugget and the Epitaph reported that shooting in the Oriental, when he killed Carter and Demming. And according to our research, neither paper ever made any mention of anyone known as the Montana Kid. So we’re looking at a temporal anomaly. The question is, exactly what kind of an anomaly does he represent? It’s possible that he could be the result of a disruption of some sort that occurred earlier in the timestream. Or he could be T.I.A. Or even S.O.G.”
“He’s been asking around about those three miners who were killed,” one of the others said. “Word is they were friends of his.”
“Friends? Or fellow agents?”
You think those three might have been Observers?”
“It’s possible. Or they could have been advance scouts for the S.O.G. Which makes their deaths much more significant. If they were Observers, then was the S.O.G. responsible? If so, then how did they manage to penetrate their cover when we couldn’t? And if they were S.O.G., then who the hell killed them?”
“Maybe it was Temporal Intelligence.” one of the other Network men said.
“Again, it’s possible. But that means they would have had to discover their presence here somehow. If that’s the case, then what tipped them off that we missed? And the T.I.A. sanctioned those three men, then why is the Kid here asking questions?”
“Maybe the Kid is S.O.G.”
“You think maybe Bailey killed them?” another man asked.
“I find that hard to believe.” O’Fallon said. “Bailey’s afraid of his own shadow. I can’t believe he would have done anything like that without consulting me. He simply hasn’t got it in him. We’ve got too many unanswered questions. I don’t like that.”
“You think we should put off the stage job?”
O’Fallon thought a moment. “No. No, I don’t think so. There’s a good shipment of bullion going out and I don’t intend to miss it. Besides, it might help force the issue. All we’ve got to go on for the moment is the Kid. How he responds to the robbery might tell us something. “
“I still think we should waste him, just to be on the safe side. Demming’s dying for a crack at him. He almost got him the other day at the hotel If it wasn’t for Doc Holliday-”
“From what I hear.” said one of the others, “even if Holliday hadn’t been there, the Kid might still have taken out both Demming and Mclaury.”
“So send Curly Bill along next time. He’s been asking if the Kid’s really as fast as people say. And Slim Carter was a friend of his. He’s been wanting a chance to go into town and check the Kid out for himself.”
“No. let’s wait until after the stage job.” said O’Fallon. “For now, the word to all the cowboys is to keep away from the Montana Kid. I don’t want to do anything about the Kid until we know more about him Meanwhile, get word to Bailey that-”
There was a loud knocking at the door.
“Paul, go see who it is,” O’Fallon said.
A moment later. Paul came back in. “It’s Bailey.” he said. He just drove up in his rig. He insists on seeing you. Curly Bill’s outside with him.”
“Damn it.” said O’Fallon. “I told him never to come here. All right, bring him in.”
Paul went back out and returned with a very worried-looking Zeke Bailey.
“What the hell’s the matter with you. Bailey?” said O’Fallon. “I told you I didn’t want you coming here.”
“I’m blown.” said Bailey.
O’Fallon frowned. “ What?”
“It’s the Kid,” said Bailey. “He knows. Christ, I need a drink.
“Paul, get Zeke a whiskey.” said O’Fallon. “Okay, now slow down and let’s have it.”
“He came in today and bought some guns,” said Bailey. ‘I sold him a shoulder rig. And then I showed him the knives, like you said. He wanted to know about the Fairburn-Sykes right away, but I wasn’t sure about him he just seemed curious. I didn’t see any recognition there and I was watching him carefully.”
Paul handed him a drink and he gulped it down.
“Thanks. I needed that.”
— Go on.” said O’Fallon
“I told him to go ahead and try it out. He threw the thing and hit the target dead center. He decided to take the knife, even though it was the most expensive one in the case. But I just couldn’t be sure about him. He asked some questions, like how long I’d been in Tombstone, where I came from, that sort of thing. And then he tricked me up.”
“What do you mean?”
“He was just sort of talking, and he was looking at some of the guns in the display cases. He stopped at this one case and seemed to be looking at one of the guns. Asked if it was one of the new Colt Bisley target models. It took me off guard and I just blurted out that it couldn’t be, because Colt didn’t make the Bisleys until… and then I caught myself and he was standing there, staring at me, and he said… until 1894. That’s thirteen years from now.’ And just then Spangenberg came back in and the Kid left. But he said we’d have to talk again real soon. I told Spangenberg I was feeling sick and came right over to tell you.-
“You idiot,” said O’Fallon. “He probably followed you right here.”
“No, I was real careful. I made sure…
“You made sure,” O’Fallon said, with disgust. “You never would have spotted him. He’s probably sitting out there somewhere right now.”
“I had to come,” protested Bailey. “Look, you told me that if something like this ever happened, you’d get me out. I’ve done everything you said. O’Fallon. I’ve exposed this guy for you. “
“Exposed him?” said O’Fallon, wryly. “What you’ve done was to expose us, you fool. You probably led him straight to us. Paul, I want security doubled right away.”
