While the McCall brothers and Serena were asking their questions Mike Gear, Greg Tobin and Earl Murray rode into town with four other men from the ranch. The extra four men were loyal to the foreman, Chuck Conners, and were willing to do whatever they could for him.
As they rode in Gear spotted Serena and Evan McCall walking from one store to another on the left side of the street.
“That’s one of ’em,” he said to Murray, who nudged Tobin and repeated the words.
“Which one?” Tobin asked.
“Evan, the one who came out to see Mr. Burkett.”
“He don’t look so tough,” Tobin said.
“He’s a gambler,” Gear said, “not a gunman. Sam McCall’s the one we want. With him gone the others will be easy.”
“How are we gonna justify gunnin’ down Sam McCall?”
Murray asked.
Gear answered, “He’s Sam McCall, ain’t he? Besides, what’s the sheriff gonna do about it? Nothin’.”
“What about outside law?” Tobin asked.
“Forget about it,” Gear said. “A man like Sam McCall gets killed, people just naturally assume he was lookin’ for it—and we’re gonna make sure he finds it.”
Evan saw the men riding in and recognized the brand on the horses.
“What is it?” Serena asked.
“Those are Burkett’s men, aren’t they?”
She looked at the men and said, “Yes. I recognize two of them. In fact,” she added, squinting her eyes for a better look, “one of them looks like one of the men who beat up my father.”
“How can you tell? I thought you said they wore masks over their faces.”
“They did,” she said, “but one of them was squat, and thickly built, like that fellow in the center.”
“What are they doing in town now, I wonder?” Evan asked.
“Maybe they’re looking for someone else to beat up,” she suggested.
Evan nodded thoughtfully and then said, “Or worse.”
Sam worked his way up and down side streets until he reached the telegraph office. As he was entering he saw a group of men riding by on Main Street. They paused and looked down the street at him, and then continued on. He went inside.
Jubal came out of a store just as the seven men paused on their horses. They were apparently peering down a side street. Jubal didn’t know who they were, but he moved over to the side so he could look down the same street, and he saw Sam. It looked as if they were watching Sam, but he couldn’t be sure. Jubal looked around and spotted a straight-backed wooden chair in front of a store. He went over to the chair, moved it so he could see who was coming, and sat down.
“That was Sam McCall,” Gear said. “I’m sure of it.”
“Looked like he was goin’ into the telegraph office,” Tobin said. “Who do you suppose he’s sendin’ a telegram to?”
“I don’t know,” Gear said, “but we can get ’im when he comes out, and then find out. Come on, we’ll leave the horses by the saloon and then walk back.”
Coffin couldn’t sleep. He was tired but he had the feeling that some kind of trouble was brewing. He could smell itin the air. He got up off the bed and walked to his window, which overlooked Main Street. He saw the seven men tying their horses off in front of the saloon, and he recognized one of them from the Burkett place.
Suddenly, he had an overwhelming urge for a drink.
Jubal saw the seven men walking back and knew that they were after Sam. He didn’t have time to warn Sam, or to find Evan. He was just going to have to watch and wait, and be ready.
Evan and Serena were in the hardware store, and Serena was talking to the owner, telling him what Evan had told Ed Collins. Evan walked to the front window and looked out from behind the farm tools that hung there. He saw Jubal sitting in a chair across and up the street, and he seemed to be watching something.
“Serena.”
She turned and said, “What is it?”
“Stay here,” Evan said, putting his hand on his gun and moving toward the door.
“Evan, what is it?”
He turned, pointed a finger at her and said forcefully, “Stay in here. Mr. Norris, keep her here!”
Norris, the owner of the store, knew trouble when he saw it, and nodded.
“Just stay here, Miss Miller,” he said. “Whatever happens in the street is better off happening with you in here.”
They were about a hundred yards from the telegraph office when Gear called a halt to their progress.
“Tobin, take two men and cross over to the other side of the street, across from the telegraph office.”
“All right.” Tobin called two names and the three of them hurried ahead.
“Earl, you and Roberts walk past the telegraph office and find some cover. When he comes out we’ll catch him in the crossfire.”
“Right.”
Murray and Roberts moved on ahead.
“Gary, you and I will set up on this side of the office.”
“You sure this is what Chuck wants done, Mike?” Gary asked.
“Believe me, Gary,” Mike Gear said, “this is what’s best for everyone.”
Evan came out of the hardware store and looked down the block. Further down, on his side, he saw the men who appeared to be splitting up. He counted as they did, making them out to be seven.
After they had all moved into the side street he stepped out into the open, trying to catch Jubal’s attention. Finally, Jubal looked over at him, waved, and pointed. Evan nodded, and waved at Jubal to join him.
Jubal left his chair and trotted across the street.
“What’s going on?” Evan asked.
“Sam’s in the telegraph office, down that street,” Jubal said. “I don’t know who those men are, but they look like their getting ready to bushwack him.”
“They work for Burkett.”
“And they’re gonna kill Sam!”
“Not if we can help it,” Evan said. “Jubal, try and cross over without being seen, and I’ll be on this side. We’ll try to work our way down to the telegraph office. When Sam comes out we’re going to have to start shooting first. It’s the only way to warn him. Got it?”
“I understand.”
“And if we’re going to shoot,” Evan added, putting his hand on Jubal’s shoulder, “we might as well shoot to kill.”
“All right.”
“Have you ever killed a man?”
Jubal looked at Evan. “No, but this looks like a good time to start.”
“To save your brother’s life,” Evan said, “it’s the best time.”
Coffin could see everything from in front of the saloon, where he stood with a beer. He saw the seven men split up and work their way into the side street. He saw Evan and Jubal come together and then work their way to that same side street.
Without even being told, Coffin knew that Sam McCall was already somewhere on that street, and that he was probably the focal point of all this activity.
He could even see McCall’s dark cloud, just hovering up there over that street, getting ready to rain down its dose of trouble.
This, he thought, sure had the makings of something interesting.
