can go in and dig them out.”
Smoke dismounted and led Horse back to a safe pocket at the mouth of the canyon. He stuffed his pockets with .44s and pulled his rifle from the boot.
The others followed suit, taking their horses out of the line of fire and any possible ricocheting bullet. Monte waved the men to his side.
“The only way any of us is gonna take lead this day is if we’re stupid or downright unlucky. What we’re gonna do is wait until Bob and Harry get into position and start layin’ down some lead. Then we can start movin’ in. So lets have us a smoke and a drink of water and relax. Relaxin’ is something them ol’ boys in that box canyon ain’t liable to be doin’.”
The men squatted down and rolled and licked and shaped and lit. Beaconfield brought out a coffee pot, and Smoke made a small circle of rocks and started a hat-sized fire. The men waited for the coffee to boil.
With a smile on his lips, Smoke walked to the curve of the canyon and shouted, “We’re gonna have us some coffee and food, Davidson. We’ll be thinking about you boys all hunkered up there in the rocks doing without.”
A rifle slug whined wickedly off the rock wall, tearing through the air to thud against the ground.
“This is the Jester, King Rex, Your Majesty!” Smoke shouted. “How about just you and me, your royal pain in the ass?”
“Swine!” Davidson screamed. “You traitor! You turned your back to me after all I’d done for you. I made you welcome in my town and you turned on me like a rattlesnake.”
He is insane, Smoke thought. But crazy like that much-talked-about fox.
“That doesn’t answer my question, Davidson. How about it? You and me in a face-off?”
“You trust that crud, Smoke?” Johnny North asked, edging close to Smoke.
“No, I just want to see what he’ll do.”
They all got that answer quickly. All the hemmed-in outlaws began pumping lead in Smoke’s direction. But all they managed to do was waste a lot of lead and powder and hit a lot of air.
“So much for that,” Smoke said, after the hard gunfire had ceased.
He had no sooner gotten the words out of his mouth when Harry and Bob opened up from the west side of the canyon wall. Several screams and howls of pain told the posse members the marksmanship of the men on the rim was true.
“That got their attention,” Monte said with a grim smile.
They heard the clatter of a falling rifle and knew that at least one of the outlaws had been hard hit and probably killed.
“You have no honor, Jester!” Davidson screamed. “You’re a foul person. You’re trash, Jester.”
“And you’re a coward, Davidson!” Smoke called.
“How dare you call me a coward!”
“You hide behind the guns of a child rapist. You’re afraid to fight your own battles.”
“You talkin’ about Dagget?” Johnny asked.
“Yeah.”
Johnny grimaced and spat on the ground, as if trying to clear his mouth of a bad taste. “Them kind of people is pure filth. I want him, Smoke.”
“He’s all mine, Johnny. Personal reasons.”
“You got him.”
“Dagget!” Smoke yelled. “Do you have any bigger bolas than your cowardly boss?”
There was a long moment of silence. Dagget called out, “Name your poison, Jensen!”
“Face me, Dagget. One on one. I don’t think you’ve got the guts to do it.”
Another moment of silence. “How do we work it out, Jensen?”
“You call it, Dagget.”
Another period of silence. Longer than the others. Smoke felt that Dagget was talking with Davidson and he soon found that his guess was correct.
“I reckon you boys got ropes already noosed and knotted for us, right, Jensen?” another voice called.
“I reckon.”
“Who’s that?” Monte asked.
“I think it’s Paul Rycroft.”
“I ain’t lookin’ to get hung!” Rycroft yelled.
Smoke said nothing.
“Jensen? Slim Bothwell here. Your snipers got us pegged out and pinned down. Cain’t none of us move more’un two/three inches either way without gettin’ drilled. It ain’t no fittin’ way for a man to go out. I got me an idea. You interested?”
“Keep talking, Slim.”
