“He probably was,” Sam said, “but we still can’t prove it.”
“We should just kill him,” Jubal said.
“That’s real smart thinkin’, kid,” Sam said.
Jubal stuck his jaw out and said, “Don’t tell me you ain’t never killed anybody.”
“Sure I did, when they needed killin—and when they were tryin’ to kill me. Now shut up and let the adults think.”
“I ain’t an adult?” Jubal asked, belligerently.
“You ain’t actin’ like one.”
“I’ll show you who ain’t an adult.”
“Pshh.” Sam made a sound that meant “Don’t bother me,” and Jubal stepped up, swung and hit his older brother right in the jaw.
Sam’s head jerked a bit, certainly not the reaction Jubal was looking for. On top of that, Jubal had hurt his hand.
“Ow,” he said, and then his eyes widened as he saw Samswing backhanded. He couldn’t avoid the blow, which struck him on the jaw and knocked him over the sofa.
“Stop it!” Serena shouted.
“I’ll stop them,” Evan said.
He went over to Jubal and hauled him to his feet.
“That’s enough, kid.”
“I told you not to call me kid,” Jubal said, and he hit Evan. “Damn!” he said, because he used his already bruised hand.
“Why, you—” Evan said, and hit Jubal in the stomach. Jubal grabbed himself and fell onto his butt. He sat there, gasping, trying to get his air.
“Stop it!” Serena said again.
“It’s stopped,” Sam said, scowling down at Jubal. “You wanna hit anyone else?”
Jubal looked up, his eyes wide, and shook his head.
“All right,” Sam said, “so we’ve all let off a little steam and we didn’t break any furniture, or any bones…” He looked down at Jubal and said, “Did we?”
Jubal was breathing a bit easier, but he wasn’t yet able to speak, so he just shook his head.
“Serena, why don’t you make some coffee and we’ll sit down and see if we can’t figure out what our next move should be.”
“If I leave the room you won’t start hitting each other again, will you?”
“No,” Sam said. “In fact, we’ll even help Jubal up.”
She gave them all a dubious look, as if she expected them all to start swinging as soon as she was gone, and then turned and went into the kitchen. She listened for a moment, didn’t hear anything that would indicate a fight had broken out, and then proceeded to make coffee.
Chapter Nine
Mike Gear watched Coffin mount his horse and leave and then went to tell Chuck Conners that the man was gone. Conners was standing by the bunkhouse with Earl Murray and Greg Tobin. Gear, Murray, and Tobin were the three men who had beaten up Dude Miller.
“Coffin’s gone, Chuck,” Gear said.
“I don’t understand why the boss thinks he needs Coffin,” Murray said. “We can take care of the McCall brothers.”
“You think so?” Conners asked. He was also stung by the fact that Burkett thought he had to go outside his own men to handle the McCall brothers—specifically, Sam McCall.
“I know so,” Murray said.
“What about you guys?”
Gear and Tobin exchanged glances, and then Gear said, “Yeah, we can handle them.”
“All right, then,” Conners said. “Maybe we should try and save the boss some money. Whataya say?”
“I say let’s do it,” Gear said, and the others nodded enthusiastically.
“Of course,” Conners said, “it wouldn’t hurt us any if we were known as the men who killed Sam McCall, huh?”
The other three men grinned widely and nodded their agreement.
“All right, then,” Conners said, again, “let’s decide how we’re gonna do this.”
“We need someone who knows that the whole deal was phony,” Sam said.
“Who would that be?” Serena asked. “I mean,
“But we can’t prove it,” Sam said. “We need someone who will testify.”
“To who?” Evan asked.
“We’ll have to bring in some outside law,” Sam said. “A federal marshal.”
“You know anybody?”
“I have a friend,” Sam said, thinking of his friend, a man named Murdock, who was a federal marshal up north. “He might be able to recommend someone we can work with.”
“Why not him?”
“He usually works further north,” Sam said, “but I’ll send him a telegram.”
“How do we know that Burkett doesn’t control the telegraph office?” Jubal asked.
“That’s a good point, little brother,” Sam said, “but remember, Dude sent over a dozen telegrams out to me in Montana. If Burkett controlled the telegraph key in town, those messages never would have gotten out and I never would have gotten the one I did.”
“All right,” Evan said, “so we send a telegram to your friend Murdock and he sends one back with a name. We still aren’t going to get a marshal here without proof.”
“Then that’s our next order of business,” Sam said. “We’re gonna have to split up and start askin’ questions.”
“Burkett’s not going to like that,” Serena said, “and he will find out about it.”
“We’ll just have to be alert,” Sam said. “Evan, one of us will have to stay with Serena at all times, instead of switching off.”
“Am I volunteering?” Evan asked with a smile.
“I thought you never would.”
“Wait a minute,” Serena said, “don’t I have anything to say about who my bodyguard is?”
“No,” Sam said.
“Why not?” she asked, bristling.
“Because if you picked one of us,” Sam said, “the other two would feel slighted. You wouldn’t want that to happen, would you?”
She glared at Sam for a moment, and then had to laugh in spite of herself.
“Why Sam McCall,” she said, “you could become a politician.”
“Bite your tongue.”
“Very well,” she said, “I accept Evan as my bodyguard.”
Evan executed as gracious a bow as he could manage while seated at the table.
“When do we get started?” Jubal asked. “I’m gettin’ tired of all this talk.”
“We get started right now,” Sam said, standing up. “Right now.”
As Coffin rode into town he saw three men and a woman standing on the boardwalk just at the point where the main street started. He knew Sam McCall on sight, and assumed that the other two men were his brothers. He didn’t know who the woman was, and he didn’t care. If he wanted a woman he’d go to the whorehouse. They weren’t worth much more effort than that.
Coffin rode past them, keeping his head straight but studying Sam McCall as well as he could peripherally. He’d heard and read all the stories about Sam McCall, but he’d also read and heard all the stories about his own
