Scarns got his whiskey glass refilled and tossed it down before he answered.
“Yeah,” he said. “For five thousand dollars I’ll kill the son of a bitch in front of the county sheriff.”
Two days after the meeting between Greer and Scarns, Matt was in The Lion and The Crown. He had just finished one beer and asked Harry for another when he saw, by the reflection of the mirror behind the glass shelf full of bottles, that someone was rising from a table behind him and pulling his gun.
Instantly, Matt drew his own pistol and whirled toward the man. When that man saw how quickly Matt had drawn, he held his hands up, letting the pistol dangle from its trigger guard.
“Who are you?” Matt asked.
The man didn’t answer and Matt cocked his pistol, the double click of the sear engaging the cylinder making a loud sound in the now silent room. “I asked who you are.”
“Scarns! Jake Scarns!” he said. “Don’t shoot, Jensen. Don’t shoot!”
“Why the hell shouldn’t I?” Matt replied. “You were about to back-shoot me, weren’t you?”
“My God, Mister, you’re not real, you know that? What does it take to kill you?”
“I don’t know,” Matt said. “How much are you getting paid?”
Matt just took a chance on asking that question. It was something he suspected, but not anything he knew for sure.
“Five thousand dollars.”
“Looks like you’re going to have to give the money back.”
“I ain’t got it. Nobody’s got it yet. It’s the reward for killin’ you. I ain’t goin’ to be the only one tryin’.”
“Who has put up the reward?”
“You’re askin’ too damn many questions,” Scarns said.
“Who else is coming after me?” Matt asked. “Are there others?”
“Hell, with that much money on your head, there’s prob’ly a dozen or so. I don’t know who else.”
“I tell you what,” Matt said. “For the time being, I’m going to park you in the jail.”
“What do you mean? You ain’t got no authority to put me in jail. You ain’t carryin’ a badge.”
“Yeah, I am,” Matt said. “I’m carrying a badge for the Union Pacific Railroad.”
“Are you crazy? There ain’t no railroad up here.”
“Have you ever ridden on a train?” Matt asked.
“What? Yeah, of course I’ve been on a train. So what?”
“If you’ve ever been on a train, that means you’ve used the railroad. And that’s all the authority I need. Let me have your gun.”
“You know what I think?” Scarns asked. “I think you’re just sayin’ that. There ain’t no way your badge can mean anything just ’cause I’ve been on a train. You can’t take me to jail ’cause I ain’t done nothin’, and you got no authority over me.”
“Give me your gun,” Matt repeated.
“All right, if you say so.” Scarns smiled then, slowly, turned the pistol around so that the butt was pointing toward Matt.
“But you be careful with your gun,” Scarns said. “I’ve done give up, and this here saloon is full of witnesses who’ll swear I was handin’ you my gun. You shoot me now, you’ll hang.”
“All right, Scarns,” Matt said. He let the hammer down, then lowered his pistol. “I’m going to park you in jail, and that’s where you are going to stay until I find out who is paying you. And if there are any others after me, you are more than likely going to have company.”
“You ain’t scarin’ me none, Jensen. I won’t be in jail long. I didn’t do nothin’. I might’ve wanted to, but I didn’t. And you can’t keep a man in jail for wantin’ to do somethin’.”
Matt reached for Scarns’s gun, but Scarns suddenly executed a border roll. Matt wasn’t often caught by surprise, but this time he was, not only because Scarns had the audacity to try such a thing, but because he was so good at it.
Because Matt had let the hammer down and his pistol and lowered it, he had to raise the gun back into line while at the same time cocking it. The quiet room was suddenly shattered with the roar of two pistols shooting at almost the same time. The others in the saloon were even more surprised than Matt had been, and though a few of them yelled and dove for cover, it was too late because the action had already begun. Gray gunsmoke billowed out from the two pistols, spreading into a cloud that momentarily obscured the results of the unexpected shoot-out. From their various positions around the saloon, everyone looked toward the bar where the action had taken place, waiting until the smoke cleared enough for them to see.
Gradually the smoke began to roll away, and as it did, everyone could see Scarns still standing there with a broad smile on his face. He took one step toward Matt, then the smile left his face and his eyes glazed over. With a groan he pitched forward, his gun clattering to the floor.
Matt was ready to fire again if need be, but a second shot wasn’t necessary. He stood in place for a moment, looking down at Scarns before he finally holstered his pistol.
“Did you see that?” someone asked.
His question wasn’t answered, because everyone in the saloon had seen it.
There were shouts from outside, then the sound of people running. Several came into the saloon and stood
