The Last Gunfighter Hell Town

“I guess you’ll have to go to Virginia City and wire him yourself,” Frank said.

Starkwell crumpled the telegram. “It’s real, all right,” he said as his mouth twisted in a snarl. “I know how the governor sounds when he gives orders like this. How did you do it, Morgan? How the hell did you manage to go over my head like that?”

“I’ve got a friend or two in high places too,” Frank drawled.

Like Conrad Browning, who counted senators and congressmen and various federal officials among his friends, as well as the presidents of numerous banks and railroads. A series of wires to Conrad and to Frank’s own lawyers in Denver and San Francisco had produced the desired results. Political pressure had been brought to bear on the governor of Nevada, and wisely, the man had bowed to it.

“From the sound of this, my men and I are under your command,” Starkwell fumed.

“This is outrageous,” Munro said. “Outrageous!”

Frank shrugged. “Call it whatever you want. What it comes down to is that the striking miners from the Lucky Lizard and the Alhambra have come to Buckskin. Tip Woodford has agreed to meet with them, Munro. Whether you do or not is up to you. But I have a feeling that the strike at the Lucky Lizard is going to be settled tonight. Unless you want the Alhambra to fall behind, it might be a good idea for you to reach a settlement too.”

“Go to hell!” Munro screamed. “No one tells me what to do!”

“Your choice,” Frank said. He turned away, and as he did so he took the acid-damaged piece of wood from his pocket, tossing it up and down on his palm so that Munro could see it and recognize it. He walked out, leaving Munro sputtering and seething behind him.

Starkwell hurried after him. “My men are camped just outside of town,” he said. “I’m going to bring them in. I don’t trust those miners. If there’s any trouble, I intend to suppress it with all due force, no matter what you say, Morgan.”

“Fetch your men if you want, Colonel, but there won’t be any riot. I’ll see to that.”

Diana and Claiborne stood on the boardwalk in front of the Lucky Lizard office. Frank made a motion toward them, and Diana turned to say something through the open door of the office. They moved aside, and a moment later Catamount Jack strode out, followed by Dave Rogan. The striking miners filed out of the building and began to form ranks in the street.

Catamount Jack hurried to one end of the street and set fire to a pile of branches and brush that had been stacked there earlier. Along with another bonfire at the far end of the street, the blaze would provide light for the meeting. After a moment, Frank realized that Clint Farnum wasn’t lighting the other bonfire as he was supposed to, though.

“Where’s Clint?” Frank called to Jack.

“Don’t know. Has the little varmint up and disappeared again?”

That appeared to be the case. Jack trotted down to the far end of the street and lit that pile too. As the glow from the fires brightened, men carrying rifles and shotguns stepped out onto the boardwalk in various places, and Frank felt a surge of pride as he realized that his unofficial deputies were prepared to do their part if necessary. He nodded his thanks to Amos Hillman, Leo Benjamin, Ed Kelley, Professor Burton, and the others. They were all willing to fight for their town if they had to, and that meant Buckskin had become more than just a collection of buildings and people.

It was truly a community now.

With Colonel Starkwell at their head, the militia men marched in from the other end of the settlement and faced the striking miners, with about twenty yards separating the two groups. They carried their rifles slanted across their chests. The miners were all armed too. Tension was thick in the air. All it would take was one reckless act to set off a hell storm of gunfire.

Frank didn’t intend to let that happen. He walked into the center of the street, between the two groups. Tip Woodford strode out from the other boardwalk. The mayor’s face was pale and drawn from the strain, but he didn’t hesitate to place himself between the guns of the two hostile forces.

“All right,” Frank began as he and Tip faced the miners. “We’re here to lay all our cards on the table and settle this thing—”

“Wait just a damned minute!”

The voice came from the front of the hotel. Hamish Munro marched out into the street, followed by Hammersmith. As the mining magnate came up to Frank and Tip, he continued. “I still think the militia should arrest all these men for their illegal strike, but I can see now you’re determined to have mob rule instead of law and order, Morgan. I want the strike against the Alhambra settled as much as you do, though, so—” Munro drew a deep breath and turned toward the miners. “Effective right now, every man who goes back to work for me will have his wages raised fifty cents an hour, and no one will work more than eight hours a day!”

Shocked exclamations came from the assembled miners. Tip Woodford yelped, “Fifty cents an hour! For God’s sake, I can’t match that! Nobody can! Nobody’s gonna want to work for me now.”

A smug smile appeared on Munro’s face. “That’s your problem, Woodford.” He turned back to the miners. “Well, men? What do you say?”

Frank held up a hand to stop them before they could shout their agreement. Into the surprised silence, he said, “We both know why you’re doing this, Munro. And you’re not going to get away with it.” He had spotted the men he was looking for in the crowd of miners, and now he moved toward them. The miners drew aside to make a path for him until Frank was confronting the Fowler brothers, Red Mike and Gib.

“You two are under arrest for murder,” Frank said.

Chapter 31

The sound of galloping hoofbeats were loud in the gathering shadows. The men who waited on horseback leaned forward in their saddles. They could tell that only one man was approaching, and since there were about