“He’s not doing that much counterfeiting.”
“Not yet,” Longarm agreed, “but that’s only because he hasn’t settled down so that he can really get his operation in gear. Up to now, Nathan Cox has been on the move. That will change when he buys his ranch or whatever it is he intends to buy in order to settle down and get serious about counterfeiting.”
“I don’t see how you can be so sure of that.”
“I’ve been chasing outlaws and con artists long enough to be able to read their minds. If I couldn’t do that, I wouldn’t be much good in this business.”
Diana sighed. “All right. Go and see this monster and have your talk. But if you get yourself killed, it’s your own damn fault.”
“Right,” Longarm said, reaching for his hat and then heading for the door.
It took Longarm just fifteen minutes to locate Buck, who had taken over the run-down and all but vacant Antelope Saloon. The only one in the place besides Buck was the owner, who doubled as the bartender. He was a frightened-looking man with a handlebar mustache and a dirty white shirt. When Longarm stepped into the silent establishment, the poor man actually tried to wave him back outside.
“Howdy,” Longarm said, his eyes flicking toward the bartender but then coming to rest on Buck. “You are open for business, aren’t you?”
The owner nodded. “Yeah,” he said, “but you might find it a little healthier to move on, mister.”
Buck was giving Longarm the evil eye. His face was bloated from heavy drinking and he looked huge, menacing, and dissipated. Longarm had expected a big man, but not this big.
“Howdy!” Longarm called over at Buck. “You interested in a game of poker?”
“Leave me the hell alone!” Buck roared.
The saloon owner’s hand trembled when he laid it down on the bar top. “Mister,” he said under his breath, “I really appreciate you comin’ into my place, but I think-“
“It’s going to be all right,” Longarm assured the man behind the bar. “I just come in for a shot of whiskey and some friendly conversation. Last time I was in here, the place was real busy. What happened to everyone?”
“They were afraid of catching lead poisoning,” Buck growled. “And you might want to get your ass outa here before you catch a case of it yourself.”
“Aw,” Longarm said, motioning for the bartender to leave a bottle and a glass. Pouring himself a shot, Longarm continued with a shrug and a smile, “I’m not too worried. You see, I’m not looking for trouble. I just want something to drink, a little friendly conversation, and a card game.”
“Get outa here!”
Longarm tossed down his drink and refilled his glass. Carrying both the bottle and the shot glass across the room, he came to a halt in front of Buck’s table. “You look like you’re out of sorts, mister. Can I buy you a drink?”
Buck lurched to his feet, and Longarm judged him to be at least six foot six inches and nearly three hundred pounds—all of it mean.
“I’m going to give you to the count of three to get your stupid ass outa this saloon!” Buck warned. “And after that, you’re going to be fitted for a pine box.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah! One. Two-“
Longarm tossed his glass of whiskey into Buck’s sodden face. When the man clawed for his gun, Longarm swung the whiskey bottle and struck him right between the eyes. The bottle shattered and both whiskey and blood flowed. Buck staggered, then lunged forward with a roar and would have gotten a-hold of Longarm if the table hadn’t gotten in his way and tripped him to the dirty sawdust floor. Longarm kicked the man hard, his boot snapping Buck’s head back hard enough to break a man’s neck.
“Why don’t we just have us a nice little talk?” Longarm said as Buck struggled to stand.
Buck came off the floor with both hands filled with sawdust, which he hurled into Longarm’s face. When Longarm tried to clear his vision, Buck hit him with a thundering overhand that drove Longarm over another card table and sent him skidding across the sawdust.
“Damn,” Longarm swore groggily as Buck swung a boot at his face. Longarm rolled sideways and felt the wind move beside his cheek. He could have drawn his gun, but Longarm had a strong urge to see if he could whip this big bastard with his fists.
“You had your chance,” Buck snarled, throwing himself at Longarm before he could stand.
Most men would have fallen away from the giant’s charge, but Longarm did the opposite and tackled Buck. The giant landed hard, breath gushing from his lungs. An instant later Longarm pounded the man in the side of the face and knocked him flat. Buck lay still for a moment, then spat out a bloody molar and swayed erect.
“I’m going to kill you with my bare hands,” Buck vowed, raising his fists and squinting through an eye that was already beginning to swell shut.
“Maybe you ought to just have another drink and rethink that decision,” Longarm said, raising his own fists.
Buck lunged, clumsily feinting a left cross. Buck attempted to follow with a looping right that Longarm avoided while he landed two thundering uppercuts to the giant’s gut. Buck’s mouth flew open, and he gasped for air even as Longarm stepped back and broke the big man’s hanging jaw.
Buck roared and his knees buckled. Longarm waded in with both fists flying and drove the bigger man backward in choppy steps until Buck was pinned against the bar.
“Stop!” Buck wailed. “I’m whipped!”
