“Even back then, I had a fascination for guns and spent a lot of time and my father’s money on target practice. My father didn’t like it much, but he wasn’t so naive that he didn’t understand that a man sometimes had to be able to defend himself. So after he was shot and butchered, I went after those two brothers. The first one died quick with a look of amazement that I’ll never forget. He just couldn’t believe that he’d been shot down by a fourteen- year-old kid.”
“And what of the second one?”
“I met him down at the train yard in Abilene, Kansas. He was a wrangler in the stock pens … when he was sober. I braced him in a stand-up fight and easily beat him to the draw. I shot him in both knees, and he screamed so loud that hundreds of wild Texas longhorn cattle broke down their fences. He begged for his life but …”
“But you had to kill him, didn’t you?”
“That’s right,” Smith said quietly. “The more bullets I put into him and the more he screamed, the madder I got. Finally, I just shot him between the eyes. Much like I’d killed snakes or varmints. I took his money, guns, and horse, then rode away. Nobody tried to stop me. They were all much too scared.”
“And no one ever came after you?”
“No,” Smith answered, “because I left Kansas far behind and rode up to Montana and became a shotgun guard for a stage line. Later, I went to work for the marshal in Cheyenne. I was good, and eventually became the law there. But despite everything I could do, I kept killing men and liking it more and more. I guess you could say I developed a lust for blood.”
“You didn’t kill Randy out in our barn! At least, you told me you didn’t.”
“No, I didn’t kill him,” Smith agreed. “He was too young and afraid. I had to let him live.”
“And you let me live.”
“Why, sure! I’m not a monster. I’ve killed plenty of men, but all of them were bad and deserved to die. I just saved the law the trouble of arresting them and then having a damned trial. I figure that I’ve saved the taxpayers a lot of money over the years by killing men that deserved to die.”
“Do you expect to go on killing? I mean, after you get the rest of the Marble Gang?”
“I hope not,” he answered. “I realize that my luck must some day run dry. And I expect that the federal government is after me. They’ve probably got men on my trail right now. That’s why I’ve got to finish off this business and then disappear.”
She frowned. “How, exactly, do you do that?”
“You change your name.”
“That can’t be enough.”
“No, there’s more to it than that. I’ve put plenty of thought to the matter during the past few months. I expect that I’ll pick out a small, quiet town and take a lowly job swamping out saloons or working in a livery. I’ll join a church and work hard. I won’t drink in saloons, and I’ll ask to be a volunteer fireman or any other thing I can do to gain trust among the town leaders. After a year, maybe two, I’ll have earned their complete respect.”
“You can’t live on respect alone,” she told him. “And I don’t think a man like you can be so poor and humble for very long.”
He allowed himself a smile. “You’re a pretty fair judge of a man, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know … anymore.”
“Well,” he said, “you’re right about me. I like money and I’m not one to sit in the wings and let other men run my life. But I’ll do it, by gawd, for a time. And all the while, I’ll be saving up money. In a few years, two or three at the most, I’ll have enough saved to buy my own business.”
“What kind of business?”
“The profitable kind.”
“And what then?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe some day I’ll run for the mayor of the damn town, but I doubt it. I’ve never had any interest in politics. You have to speak with a forked tongue and shake hands with your enemies.”
“Men you would rather shoot.”
“Yeah, but I won’t,” he vowed. “Not anymore. I’ll turn over a new leaf. I’ll grab ahold of respectability and not pick up a gun except to defend myself, my family, or my friends.”
“So, you will have another family?”
He reached out and touched her cheek. “Looking at you like this, I realize that I have to have a wife and … and maybe even try to have children again. I don’t know. It’s all too sudden to think about those kinds of things.”
“I’ve never met anyone like you before. You’re crazy and dangerous, but you are good too.”
“I am a little crazy,” he admitted. “You’ve got that part right. I can’t figure out why I get so much satisfaction from killing evil people or punishing those who are rude or bullies. But I do and I can’t deny the fact.”
“Do you ever have nightmares about all the men you’ve killed?”
“No.”
“How many have you killed?”
“I don’t keep count.”
“More than ten, though,” she said. “You’ve killed way more than ten men.”
“Yeah. Way more.”
