let me hear you deny that.'
Before Frank could reply, Conrad said, 'You can't, can you? No, because it's the truth.'
'If you will just let me try to explain, Conrad -- '
'I hope to God I never see you again,' Conrad blurted. 'All this tragedy is your fault. It never would have happened if you hadn't showed up here.'
Frank struggled to grasp the logic behind the young man's words. What did his coming to town weeks back have to do with an attempted bank robbery? He shook his head. 'Conrad, you're not thinking straight I -- '
'I don't want to hear anything you have to say. I just want you to leave. I don't wish to ever see you again.'
'Boy, I made a promise to your mother that I would take care of you. I -- '
'You!' Conrad hissed at him. '_You_ take care of me? Oh, I think not. Get out and leave me alone.'
Frank stared at his son for a few seconds. 'All right, boy. But I'll be back. You can count on that. Then we'll talk more.'
'Not if I have anything to say about it.'
The nurse walked into the room, dabbing at her eyes. 'One of you go get Dr. Bracken. Hurry.'
'Mother?' Conrad blurted.
'Fading very fast. Hurry, boy.'
Conrad ran out of the office. 'Is she conscious?' Frank asked.
'No. My God, this has been a horrible day.'
_Frank recalled Viv's words: I don't want you to see me die. I don't want that to be the last memory you have of me._
'Yes, it certainly has been that.'
The nurse gripped Frank's arm. 'Kill those outlaws, Marshal. Kill every one of them. Avenge this town.'
'I plan on bringing them to justice, ma'am.'
The nurse looked at him for a moment and then turned away, walking back into the tiny clinic of Dr. Bracken without another word.
Frank touched the butt of his pistol. 'Yes, I certainly plan on delivering justice, ma'am.'
Frank headed for his office. Jerry was waiting on the boardwalk. 'Is Mrs. Browning -- ' He could not bring himself to finish the question.
'It won't be long, Jer. You ready to go?'
'Ready. I put the sandwiches in the wagon.'
'All right. You drive the team. I'll follow with our horses. What's the latest on the death count?'
'Still climbing.'
'Let's go even the score.'
--------
*Twenty-three*
About half a mile from the blockade, Frank left Jerry with the wagon and rode up to take a very cautious look-see, walking the last hundred yards and peeping around the sheer rock wall on the left side of the road. The Pine and Vanbergen gangs had blocked the road with a heavy chain stretched across it and then stationed two wagons, tongue to rear, in back of that. They had two red flags on poles in front of the chain, signifying danger, and four men with rifles were on guard.
'Slick,' Frank muttered. 'Very slick.' He looked up and shook his head. No way to get above the blockade, for the sheer rock face was several hundred feet high. Any assault would have to be a frontal one. And Frank guessed that the main body of the gangs was camped not too far off, so they would come running at the first sounds of trouble.
It had been suggested to Frank that a rider from town try to make it through the outlaw pass. He had smiled at that and asked for volunteers. When no one stepped forward that suggestion was dropped.
Frank rode back to Jerry now, and swung down from the saddle. 'One way through, Jer.'
'Straight ahead, right?'
'That's it.'
'They're going to hear the wagon when we move it into place, for a fact,' Jerry said. 'But what the hell? Surely they know we're here.'
'Oh, they know, all right. This is how we'll play it: I'll handle the Gatling, and you get the wagon in place, as close as you can without exposing yourself. There's a place to turn the team just before the curve.'
'And then what?'
'Then I start cranking and clear the roadblock.'
'And the gangs come on the run.'
'Probably. But they're going to run right into our fire. You have a better idea?'
