Shootout of the Mountain Man

Andy Emerson, aren’t you? You’re the one who was interfering with the law.”

“We’ve met,” Smoke said.

“Well, I don’t know where you came from, mister. But in Nye County, we got us a law against shootin’ folks.”

“Yes, that’s been my observation in most places I’ve been,” Smoke replied. “But from what I have seen here, it evidently does not apply to people who are wearing a badge. I notice that you had no compunctions about killing that unarmed cowboy. ”

The sheriff, who was probably three inches taller and eighty pounds heavier than Smoke, got an irritated look on his face.

“Mister, I’ve only met you twice, and you’ve put a burr under my saddle both times.”

“What do you mean, Sheriff? I haven’t been belligerent.”

“No, but you always seem to have something smart to say.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve been too smart. I know how difficult it can be for someone like you to have to deal with intelligent comments. I’ll try and bring it down,” Smoke said.

Minnie, Doc, and Nabors tried hard to smother their smiles.

“Just as long as you understand,” the sheriff said, totally unaware that he just been mocked. “Why did you shoot Dawes?”

“Because he was shooting at me,” Smoke replied.

“He’s tellin’ the truth, Sheriff Wallace,” Doc Baker said. “Dawes came in here shooting.”

“That’s right, Sheriff,” Nabors added. “And I aim to sue him for a new table and a new stovepipe. Look here what he did.” Nabors pointed to the hole in the tabletop, and another in the stovepipe.

“Can anyone else back that up?” Sheriff Wallace asked.

“I can back it up, Sheriff,” the bartender said. He pointed to Dawes. “Truth to tell, it’s a plumb wonder Dawes didn’t get hisself shot dead. Most anyone else would have kilt him. But this feller, just as calm as a summer day, shot the gun right out of his hand. Then, when Dawes tried to pick it up, this feller shot again, only this time what he done was, his bullet pushed the gun all the way across the floor. ”

Sheriff Wallace squinted as he looked back at Smoke. “Do you mean to tell me you wasn’t shootin’ at him and just missed? You was tryin’ to shoot the gun out of his hand?”

“I wasn’t trying to do it, Sheriff. I did it,” Smoke said.

“You are either one hell of a good shot, or a damn fool,” Sheriff Wallace said. He looked at Dawes. “Did you shoot first?”

“I told you, Sheriff, he hit me from behind.”

“Get on out of here,” the sheriff growled. “If what these folks are saying is true, then you are the one I should put in jail.”

“It ain’t right, Sheriff, he had no call to—”

“I said get out of here,” Sheriff Wallace repeated, more forcefully this time.

Glaring at the sheriff and the others in the saloon, Dawes left. Sheriff Wallace walked over to the door and watched for a moment to make certain that Dawes left as ordered. Then he turned back toward Smoke.

“What did you say your name was, back at the depot?”

“Jensen.”

The sheriff squinted at Smoke. “Wait a minute, I thought you said your name was Cody, or Kirby, or something like that.”

“Kirby,” Smoke said. “Kirby is my first name. Kirby Jensen.”

“Well, Mr. Jensen, here is a word of advice. Next time someone points a gun at you, I wouldn’t recommend you trying to shoot the gun out of their hand. If you are going to shoot, shoot to kill. You might not be so lucky the next time.”

“Thanks,” Smoke said. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Minnie,” the sheriff said. “Have you heard anything back from that telegram you sent to Buck West?”

Minnie gasped. “What? How did you know I sent a telegram?”

“I’m the sheriff. It’s my business to know.”

Minnie looked over toward Smoke, who, with a barely perceptible shake of his head, cautioned her to say nothing about it.

“Well, if it’s your business to know, then you probably already know that I didn’t hear anything back from him.”

“It’s just as well,” Sheriff Wallace said. “I don’t know what Cabot had in mind when he had you send that telegram, but I plan to keep a close eye on him.”

“Sheriff, I don’t know what happened to that letter he sent you, but if you had gotten it, you would know that he really didn’t have anything to do with that holdup,” Minnie said.

“There was no letter,” Sheriff Wallace said.

“There was too,” Minnie insisted. “I don’t know why you never received it, but there was a letter.