Big and rangy, and bred for speed and endurance. The saddles were expensive. The men had, of course, taken their rifles and saddlebags with them. There was nothing else Frank could do, so he returned to the jail.
'Judge Pelmutter was called out of town,' Jerry said. 'He left on the stage about ten minutes ago ... some sort of family emergency. Said he'd be back next week ... on the Friday stage. Said unless you want to file charges against those two young punks who killed that man, cut them loose.'
'I figured that much. How about the four we arrested last night?'
'Said to hold them.'
'All right. Turn the two young hellions loose and tell them to hit the trail and don't come back here.'
'Will do.'
Frank looked out the front window of the jail office. Big Bob Mallory was sitting on a bench under a store awning across the street, staring at the jail.
'What the hell does he want?' Jerry asked, walking over to stand beside Frank.
'Me. I'm sure of that. And maybe Mrs. Browning. But he's got enough sense to know he'd better get rid of me first. He knows if he harmed Viv, I'd track him up to and through the gates of hell.'
'Those six got rooms at Mrs. Harris's boardinghouse. Hotel is full up. She said they told her their names were Jones and Smith and Johnson, and so forth.'
'Something is up, Jer. I just don't know what. All we can do is keep our eyes open and stay ready.'
Frank left the office and began walking the town. After a while he walked over to the second livery that had just opened a week before. There were half a dozen fine-looking horses there he wanted to take another look at. They were beautiful animals that the owner had brought in with him. Several people had tried to buy them, but the livery owner had told each prospective buyer he was not yet ready to sell them.
Frank looked for the horses in the corral, but they were gone. He went inside the old barn and looked around for the owner. He was nowhere to be seen. The six horses were in stalls, all saddled up and ready to ride.
'What the hell?' Frank muttered.
Then it dawned on him. Six men ride into town on fine horses. They register at a rooming house under obviously false names. A livery man comes into town a week before, and brings six fine horses with him and opens for business, but won't sell the horses. Now those six animals are saddled up and ready to ride.
'Real good plan, boys,' Frank whispered. 'It almost worked out exactly as planned.'
Frank walked swiftly back to the office. Jerry was out doing something. Frank paced the floor, thinking. He had no firm proof the six men were guilty of anything. Everything he had was suspicion, nothing more. He didn't want to alarm the bank personnel and have his suspicions turn out to be nothing. One of the six men was surely watching the bank, and if he spotted any panic, the robbery -- if one was planned -- would just be put off for another time ... or if it went ahead, a lot of innocent people would be killed.
'Damn!' Frank muttered, gazing out the window. The town was already getting busy, even though it was still very early. Kids were playing, and women were shopping and standing on the boardwalk talking.
'All I can do is wait,' he said. 'Right now I'm between a rock and a hard place.'
Frank walked over to the gun rack and put his hand on a rifle. Then he pulled it back. He shook his head. If the outlaw lookout spotted him carrying a rifle around town on this beautiful peaceful day, he would alert the others, and they would immediately suspect their plans had been queered.
Frank loaded up his pistols full, slipping a cartridge into the sixth chamber, which he usually kept empty; the hammer rested on that chamber. He walked out of the office and sat down on the bench on the boardwalk. All he could do was wait. He wondered where Jerry had gotten off to.
Ladies passed by, and Frank smiled and touched his hat in greeting. Most of them spoke; some did not. Frank did not take umbrage at being snubbed. He was a notorious gunfighter and a few residents of the town still felt a man of his dubious reputation should not be wearing a badge.
Jerry came strolling up and sat down beside Frank. 'Anything happening, Frank?'
Frank explained briefly what he had found and what he suspected.
Jerry didn't question Frank's suspicions. 'I'll get my other pistol,' was all he said. When Jerry returned a moment later, he asked, 'Do we alert some other men?'
'And tell them what, Jer? We don't have a shred of hard evidence to back up my suspicions. Way I see it, all we can do is wait.'
Jerry was silent for a moment. 'Frank, one of those six men just sat down across the street. Just to the right of the ladies' shop.'
Frank cut his eyes without moving his head. 'I see him. And yonder comes the livery man with one of those fine horses he's been stabling.'
'The seventh man?'
'Has to be, Jer.'
They watched as the stable owner looped the reins over a hitch rail just few yards from the bank's front door and walked slowly back toward his livery.
'Two or three of the horses will probably be led around to the alley behind the bank.'
'I'll take me a stroll up the street to the end of the block, howdy doin' and chattin' along the way,' Jerry said. 'Then I'll cut across to the other side, go into the general store, and take me a look-see out the back door.'
'OK. Stay over there. I think we're going to see some action in a few minutes.'
