Because you’re going to have to come to my town to get me. And you won’t last two minutes in Hell’s Creek.”
“You got it all figured out, huh, Max?”
“I believe so, yes.”
“It promises to be an interesting summer, Max.”
Max threw his smoked-down cigar into the street and rose from the bench. “I hope I don’t see you again, Jensen,” he said, with his back to Smoke.
“Oh, you will, Max. You will.”
Smoke sat on the bench and watched as the sullen bunch of gunfighters rode slowly out of town, being very careful to kick up as little dust as possible. Only Pete Akins raised a hand in farewell.
With a grin on his face, he called, “See you around, Smoke.”
“Take it easy, Pete.”
The pimply-faced boy whose name Smoke had learned was Brewer, glared hate at him as he rode past.
“You bear in mind what I said, son,”Smoke called to him.
The young man gave Smoke an obscene gesture.
Bringing up the rear of the procession was a wagon, the two bone-broken deputies lying on hay in the bed, groaning as the wagon lurched along.
Tom Johnson crossed the street, leading a group of men and women, Judge Garrison among them.
“Tom, did you send those wires like I asked?” Smoke said.
“Yes, sir. Folks should start arriving in about a week. What about those people in town loyal to Huggins?”
“Tell them to hit the trail, Tom. You’re the newly elected mayor.”
“How about me?” Judge Garrison asked.
“You’re staying, Judge. You and me, we’re going to see to it that justice prevails in this part of the county. Tom has arranged for a man to come in and reopen the newspaper. He’s got people coming in that include a schoolteacher, a preacher, and some shopkeepers. Barlow is going to boom again, Judge. Nice and legal.”
“Young man,” the judge said, sitting down on the edge of the boardwalk, “have you given any thought as to what will happen when you decide to leave?”
“Oh, yes.”
They waited, but Smoke did not elaborate.
The judge sighed. “I must admit, it’s a good feeling to be free of Max Huggins.” He cut his eyes to Smoke. “For as long as it lasts, that is.”
“Trust me, Judge,”Smoke told him, putting a finger to the side of his head. “I’ve got it all worked out up here.” He pulled out his watch and clicked it open. “What times does the stage run?”
“It’ll be here in about an hour,” Tom told him.
“It turns around at Hell’s Creek?”
“That’s right.”
Smoke smiled. “Well, then, I’ll just make plans to meet the stage. Right now, I have to see about finding a deputy.”
“That’s not going to be easy, Smoke,” the judge said. “I don’t know of a single person who is qualified. Most of the ranches in this part of the county have only the hands they absolutely need to get by. There’s about a dozen farmers in this area. Good people, but not gunslingers.”
“Who is that prisoner in the jail? What’s he being held for?”
The judge rolled his eyes. “His name is Dagonne. Jim Dagonne. He’s not a bad sort; matter of fact, he’s rather a likable fellow. He just likes to fight. The problem is, he never can win one. He’s a good cowboy. Works hard. But when he starts drinking, he picks fights. And he always loses.”
Smoke nodded his head, a smile on his face. “All right, folks, let’s get to work. We’ve got a lot to do.”
6
Smoke unlocked the cell door and dragged the sleeping Jim Dagonne out of the bunk. He looked to be in his mid-twenties and in good shape, although not a big man.
“What the hell!” Dagonne hollered as Smoke dragged him across the floor and out the back door.
“Shut up, Jim,” Smoke told him. He shoved him in a tub of cold water and tossed him a bar of soap. “Strip and scrub pink. I’ll have your clothes washed and dried. Then well talk.”
“Who the hell are you?” Jim hollered. “You let me out of this tub and I’ll whup you all over this backyard.”
“Smoke Jensen.”
Jim sank into the tub and covered his head with water.
Twenty minutes later, sober and clean, wrapped in a blanket, Jim Dagonne sat in front of Smoke’s desk and waited. He did not have a clue as to what Smoke wanted of him.
Smoke stared at the young man. Maybe five feet seven. Not much meat on him, but wiry; rawhide tough. Hard to tell what he looked like, with his face all banged up and both eyes swollen nearly closed, but he appeared to be a rather nice-looking young man.
“You don’t have a job, Jim,” Smoke finally broke the silence. “The judge said you got fired from the Circle
