Matt made a face. “Never did care for that clabber.”
“You could probably get a phosphate at the drugstore.”
“Ah, just forget it!” Matt lifted the reins and urged his horse ahead of the other two riders.
Bickford smiled over at Sam. “Your friend’s a mite hotheaded, isn’t he? Can’t say as I really blame him. I used to enjoy a drink every now and then, too. But the law’s the law, and I’m sworn to uphold it. I hope you boys understand and won’t give me any reason to look you up again in my official capacity.”
“We’re not moonshiners, Marshal, and if we get thirsty enough, I suppose we can head for Nebraska or Texas, or turn around and go back to Colorado. I assume they still have plenty of whiskey in those places.”
“I reckon they do.”
“I have to say, though,” Sam went on, “I don’t envy you your job. I have a hunch you’ll be a very unpopular man wherever you go.”
“Like I said, a lawman’s got to have a thick hide. So long, Mr…. What is your name anyway?”
“Sam Two Wolves.” Sam nodded toward his blood brother, who was riding about twenty yards ahead of them now. “That’s Matt Bodine.”
“Bodine.” Bickford repeated the name like it meant something to him. “I’ve heard of him. You, too. I used to be a Dickinson County deputy sheriff, over Abilene way. You fellas have quite a reputation among lawmen.”
“For helping them out, you mean?”
Bickford grunted, and after a second Sam realized the sound had been a laugh. “More like for always being around whenever there’s trouble.”
“Unfortunately, there’s something to what you say, Marshal. But we try to avoid it when we can.”
“Uh-huh.” Bickford didn’t sound convinced, and in truth, it was a pretty feeble claim considering the evidence, Sam thought. “Are you headed for Cottonwood?” Bickford asked.
“We need supplies. That would be the closest place to get them.”
“Yeah, I suppose it would. Well, be careful. I’d better get back and help transport those prisoners.”
Bickford lifted a hand in farewell and wheeled his horse around. Sam heeled his mount into a faster pace and drew even with Matt again a moment later.
“You finish talking to that loco hombre?” Matt asked without looking over at his blood brother.
“He didn’t strike me as loco.”
“Anybody who thinks he can stop folks from drinkin’ is plumb crazy,” Matt said. “When people get thirsty, they’ll find a way to take a drink.”
“You’re probably right about that,” Sam admitted. “Still, Marshal Bickford and the others are just trying to do their jobs.”
“Like I said, it’s a sorry excuse for a job.”
Sam let the subject drop. He knew there wouldn’t be any changing of Matt’s mind, and anyway, Sam thought that Matt was pretty much right in his opinions this time.
“We’ll stop in Cottonwood and pick up some supplies. That’ll take just about all of our cash, though, so we might have to try to find a poker game.”
“Didn’t you hear Bickford?” Matt asked. “There aren’t any saloons in that town. They’ve all been closed down because of that stupid law.”
“They may not be selling liquor anymore, but I’ll bet there’s someplace in town where poker games still go on.”
Matt shrugged. “Maybe. We’ll have a look around.”
He was an excellent poker player, and could usually run up a stake for them when their funds ran low. If they were in a town where there was a telegraph office, they could wire home for money. Each of the blood brothers owned a cattle spread in Montana, and thanks to the efforts of the crews who worked for them, those ranches were quite successful. From time to time, Matt and Sam talked about returning to Montana to live and work on their range, but that idea was soon discarded. They weren’t ready to settle down yet, not by a long shot.
Half an hour later, they began seeing smoke from the chimneys of Cottonwood. A little later, the town itself came into view, a good-sized group of buildings scattered along the bank of a creek. The trees that gave the place its name grew on the other side of the stream. Cottonwood had a couple of churches with their steeples standing tall above the settlement, along with a large, whitewashed building at the edge of town that was probably the school. A number of business buildings lined the main street, with residences on the other side of town from the creek. It looked like a typical cow town, maybe a little sleepier and more peaceful than some.
That tranquil atmosphere was the main reason Matt and Sam were both surprised when, for the second time today, they heard the roar of gunfire fill the air.
Chapter 3
Sam didn’t even try to talk Matt out of galloping toward the shots this time. They were headed for the settlement anyway. They would just get there a little quicker this way.
The gunfire continued as the blood brothers raced toward town. They rode past the school, which was empty at this time of year, and as they started along the main street, they saw that the boardwalks were deserted. Obviously, people had scattered to hunt for cover when the shooting started.
Matt and Sam saw a man kneeling behind a water trough and firing a revolver at a wagon across the street. Several men were behind that wagon, blazing away with rifles. Once again, Matt and Sam were in the position of not knowing which side was in the right, if indeed either was.
