“Uh, Sheriff, I drawed on him first,” Scooter said.
“I see. Well, Deputy ... what’s your name?”
“Jensen. Kirby Jensen, but most folks call me Smoke.”
The irritated expression on the sheriff’s face disappeared, replaced by a broad smile. “Smoke Jensen?
“That’s
“Hello, Judge Norton,” Smoke replied. “Sally was shot. And the polecat you have here, and the others who were with him when he robbed the bank, are the ones who shot her.”
The smile left the judge’s face. “Oh, Smoke, I’m so sorry. Is she—I mean did he ... ?”
“She’s going to be all right. But they killed three others in the same bank robbery.”
“Yes, they killed three here as well,” Judge Norton said. “I was just signing the warrant authorizing the execution.”
“Is Parnell in the back?”
“Yes, you can go on back there to talk to him if you want.”
Smoke started toward the door that led into the back, then stopped, pulled his pistol from the holster, and walked over to lay it down on the corner of the desk. “You forgot to ask me for that.”
“Yeah, I, uh—wasn’t sure how you would handle it,” the sheriff said.
When Smoke went into the back of the building he saw that, though there were four cells, only one was occupied. The occupant of that cell was sitting on a cot, holding his head in his hands.
“Parnell?”
He looked up. “Who wants to know?”
“My name is Jensen. Smoke Jensen.”
“I’ll be damned. You’re the husband of the woman Dinkins shot, ain’t you?”
“Dinkins is the one who shot her?”
“Yeah, Dinkins shot her. He also shot the man that said he owned the bank.”
“What about Mr. Deckert? And the sheriff? Who shot them?”
“Truth to tell, there ain’t no way of knowin’ who it was shot them, seein’ as we was all shootin’ while we was leavin’ the bank.”
“Where are they now, Parnell?”
“You think you can come in here and just ask me to tell you where my friends are and expect me to tell you?”
“Your friends?”
“Damn right, they are my friends.”
“I understand that as you were riding away after the bank robbery here, your horse got shot.”
“Yeah. You think I would be here iffen I had had me a horse to ride?”
“Did any of your friends come back for you?”
“No.”
“Do you think any of them care now, that you are about to be hanged?”
“I-I don’t know,” Parnell admitted.
“Parnell, you don’t owe them anything,” Smoke said. “And in another hour or so it won’t make any difference to you one way or another. As a matter of fact, nothing will make any difference to you. So, as one of your last acts, you may as well do the right thing and tell me where they are.”
Parnell was quiet for a moment. “To tell the truth, Jensen, I don’t exactly know where they are. But I know that Dinkins was plannin’ on hittin’ just about ever’ bank he could. The plan was to get a lot of money, then we was goin’ to divide it up an’ we was all to go off on our own. All except the Slater brothers, that is. I figure they’ll probably still stay together.”
“I was told that five men robbed the bank here. But Putnam was killed back in Gothic, so that left only four,” Smoke said.
“Yeah, that’s right. And four is how many of us there was until Harley joined us.”
“Harley? Would that be Wesley Harley?”
“Yeah, do you know him?”
“I know of him.”
“I bet you didn’t know that he is Bill Dinkins’ brother, though.”
“No, I didn’t know that.”
“I figure most people don’t know that, seein’ as they got different last names and all. Harley is the one who kilt all three of the people in this bank holdup.”
