He was very impressed by this first sighting. He’d heard of what had happened to Red, and that amused him. If any man had a beating coming to him, it was Red. And Max Huggins. But Joe wondered if Smoke was hoss enough to take the huge Max Huggins.
“Last chance, Al,” Smoke called. “I am ordering you to leave this town immediately.”
Smoke stopped about forty feet from Al.
“You know where you can stick that order, Jensen.”
“Then make your play, Al,” Smoke said calmly.
A1 went for his guns. He got both barrels of the .45’s halfway out of leather before Smoke drew. Smoke shot him twice, in the belly and the chest, the slugs turning the man around and sitting him down in the street, on his butt.
“Holy Mother of Jesus!” Joe Walsh whispered the words. “He’s so quick it was a blur.”
His hands shook their heads in awe.
Smoke walked up to Al Martin. The gunfighter looked up at him. “Melvin’s quicker, Jensen,” he pushed the words past bloody lips. “You’ll meet your match with the kid.”
“Maybe. But you’ll meet your Maker long before that happens.”
A1 fell over on his side. “Cold,” he muttered. “Gimme a decent buryin’,” he requested. “One fittin’ a human being.”
“I would,” Smoke told him, his words carrying to both sides of the street, “if you were a decent human being.”
“Bastard!” Al cursed him.
“That’s a hard man yonder,” Joe told his hands. “Probably the hardest man I ever seen.”
Al Martin died cursing the name of Smoke Jensen.
Smoke punched out the empty brass and reloaded just as the combination barber/ undertaker came walking up.
“What kind of funeral you want him to have, Sheriff?” he asked.
“Whatever his pockets will bear,” Smoke told him. “Bring his guns and personal items to the office.”
“Them’s right nice boots he’s wearin’,”the man said. “Be a shame to waste that leather.”
“Whatever,” Smoke said. He walked over to the cafe and stepped up on the boardwalk.
The rancher stuck out his hand. “Joe Walsh,” he introduced himself. “I own the Circle W.”
Smoke took the hand.
“Good to have some decent law enforcement around here.” He looked across the street at Jim Dagonne and grinned. “How’d you get him off the jug?”
“I told him I’d stomp his guts out and feed what was left to the hogs if he ever took another drink.”
Joe laughed. “He’s a good boy. I would have rehired him in a day or two, but I think he’s better off in what you got him doing.” He looked at Sal. “That’s a good man, too.”
“I think so.”
“Watch your back when you ride out in the county. Red Malone don’t forget or forgive. I’ll tell the wife you’re in town. You and your missus come out to the ranch anytime for dinner. We’d love the company.”
“I’ll do it.”
Smoke had sized up the rancher and thought him to be a good, hard-working man. And one who would fight if pushed. Probably the reason Red and Max had left him alone. His hands wore their guns like they knew how to use them ... and would.
Sal walked over. “The undertaker said Al had quite a wad on him. He’s gonna hire some wailers and trot out his black shiny wagon for this one. He said the weather bein’as cool as it is, A1 can probably stand two days. Ought to be a new preacher in town by that time.”
Smoke nodded. “You and Jim watch the town. I’m going to lay in some supplies and take a ride. I’ll be gone for a couple of days, getting the lay of the land.”
“Watch yourself, Smoke. Red’s probably sent the word out for gunhands.”
Again, Smoke nodded. “You and Jim start totin’ sawed-off shotguns, Sal. Any gunslicks that come in, either move them on or bury them.”
“You got it.”
“I’ll see you in two or three days.”
Smoke rode out of the valley and into the high country. The high lonesome, Old Preacher had called it. It pulled at a man, always luring him back to its beauty. The valley was surrounded by high snowcapped peaks, with the lower ridges providing good summer graze for the cattle.
Smoke had checked out the boundaries of the Lightning spread at the surveyor’s office, and he carefully avoided Malone’s range. Keeping Mt. Evans to his right, Smoke rode toward Hell’s Creek. He wasn’t concerned about Sally’s friends being worried about their not showing up. By now, everyone in the county knew Smoke was in Barlow. He only hoped the doctor and his wife had sense enough to keep their mouths shut about their being friends with Sally.
He rode up to a farmhouse and gave a shout. A man in bib overalls came out of the barn and took a long look at Smoke. Then he went back in and returned carrying a rifle.
