“No.” The gambler’s left hand worked at a deck of playing cards on the table. His right hand was not visible. “But I am asking.”
“If that’s the case…fine. I’ll go.”
“Ask her…no, ride on to Smoke’s place and tell him what happened, if you will, please. Ask him to arrange for a wagon to come for Colby’s body.”
“I’ll do that too, Louis. Louis?”
The gambler looked at the gunfighter.
“It wasn’t right…that shootin’. But we couldn’t interfere.”
“I know. But the West is changing, Johnny. Going to ranch and farm a bit with the savings you have up in Boulder, Johnny?”
That shook the blond-haired Nevada gunslick. “How in the hell…”
“I own part of the bank, Johnny,” Louis said with a very slight smile.
Johnny returned the smile. “I think I might just ask the Widder Colby if she needs some help up there, Louis. Not today, now, that wouldn’t be fitten. But later on.”
“That would be a very decent act on your part, Johnny. I think Belle would appreciate that very much.”
“I’ll get goin’ now. See you, Louis.”
“See you. Thanks, Johnny.”
As the sounds of Johnny’s big California spurs faded on the boardwalk, Andre stuck his head out of the kitchen. “A snack, sir?” the chef asked.
“I think not, Andre. Just coffee, please.”
The chef hesitated. “It is a dismal and barbaric place, is it not,
“For a while longer, Andre. But it will change as time passes, and time will pass.”
Johnny North caught up with Donnie about five miles out of town. The young gunslick had several of his friends with him, but numbers had never bothered Johnny North before, and didn’t this time.
Johnny North made all the gunslicks and so-called gunslicks of this group nervous. They all kept their hands in plain sight, and as far away from their guns as could be humanly arranged.
“I ain’t lookin’ for no truck with you, Johnny,” Donnie said, his voice sounding a bit shrill.
“Peel off from your friends, Donnie,” Johnny told him.
“Why?”
“We’re gonna take a ride, just you and me.”
“Where we goin’?”
“To deliver a death message”
“I’ll be damned if I’m goin’!”
Johnny smiled grimly. “Do you prefer dead to damned, Donnie?”
“Huh?”
“You can either ride to the Colby place with me, and tell the widder how you gunned down her man, or you can be taken back to the TF spread…acrost your saddle. It’s up to you, Donnie.”
“They’s five of us, Johnny,” a TF gunhawk said.
“There won’t be when the smoke clears.”
Donnie and the others thought about that for a moment. “I reckon I’ll ride with you, Johnny,” Donnie said.
“Fine. You others hightail it back to the TF. You tell Tilden Franklin that from now on I’ll be workin’ out at Colby’s place. Tell him to keep his ass and your asses off that range. You got all that?”
“Yes, sir, Johnny,” a young TF gunnie said.
“Yes, sir,
“Yes, sir, Mister North!”
“Ride!”
The TF gunnies laid the spurs to their horses and left in a cloud of dust and drumming hooves. None of them was lookin’ forward to delivering this news to Tilden Franklin. But none of them wanted to tangle with Johnny North neither. Lesser of two evils, they figured.
“You ride in front of me, Donnie,” Johnny said. “Move out.”
There was a lot of things Donnie wanted to say. Wisely, he said none of them. Just silently cussed.
5
“There was five of you!” Tilden shouted at the men. “Five of you! I’m paying you men good money, fighting wages. But so far, I’ve seen damn little fighting. But a hell of a lot of running. What does it take to put some backbone in you men?”
The gunslicks stood and took it in silence. Luis Chamba and his sidekicks, Kane and Sanderson, stood by the corner of the big house and smiled at the dressing-down Tilden was giving his gunhands.
