hired to. That means that the man behind them might still want you.”
“I suppose so.”
“Might be time for you to leave town.”
“I just got here.”
“And already you’ve had more fun than most people do in a lifetime,” Tally said. “You want a ride back to the hotel?”
“No, I think I’d like a ride back to the hospital.”
“Feeling all right?”
“Fine. I met someone inside who’s very curious about how I got shot.”
“That makes two of us,” Tally said. “Oh, here. This is yours.”
He handed Decker Dover’s knife.
“I cleaned it.”
“Thanks,” Decker said. “What about my guns?”
“They’ll be returned to your hotel in the morning, but your rifle is still in your room.”
Decker put the knife into his coat pocket and thanked Tally again.
“Here’s my card,” Tally said. “If you think of something or have any more trouble, let me know.”
“Sure.”
“Oh, one more thing, Decker.”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t think I’m buying this act of yours,” the lieutenant said. “I’m just giving you some time to think it over before we talk again—and we will be talking again.”
“I’ll look forward to it, Lieutenant.”
Chapter Five
While he was waiting for Linda Hamilton to come out, Decker thought back again to that time he and Dover “volunteered” to be deputies for a sheriff in a small Arizona town…
“Either one of you ever been to these parts before?” the sheriff asked.
They’d been out about three hours. The sheriff had picked up the trail just outside of town, and they’d been following it this far.
“Never been,” Dover answered.
The sheriff looked at Decker then and asked, “Your friend do all the talking for both of you?”
“Only when it comes to volunteering.”
“You’re both kind of young, aren’t you?”
“For what?” Dover asked.
The sheriff, a gray-haired man in his fifties, hesitated a moment, then said, “For a lot of things, I guess…”
After five hours they caught up to the robbers. Thinking they were in the clear, the men had stopped to care for one of their number who’d been shot.
When the firing started, the sheriff, Dover and Decker jumped from their horses and took cover. There were some spirited exchanges. Then the sheriff said, “Cover me.” They tried, but he only took five steps before he was hit by a barrage of bullets.
“Hey, deputies!” a man’s voice shouted. “Your boss is dead. Are those badges important enough for you to die for?”
Dover and Decker exchanged glances.
“It ain’t the badges, Deck,” Dover said. “It’s what they represent.”
“And what’s that?”
“Justice.”
“When did you become such a stickler for justice?”
Dover gave Decker a real serious look and said, “When I put on this badge.”
Decker stared at Dover. Then he shook his head slowly and said, “All right, let’s get ‘em.”
Then the two young men figured out their approach. In an hour they killed three of the gang and secured the remaining two for the trip back to town. After they tied the body of the sheriff to his horse, they returned to town with him, the two gang members and the bank’s money…
Dover had stayed on as the new sheriff, but Decker turned down his offer of a deputy’s badge and moved on.
Decker drifted for a while, was almost hanged for a crime he didn’t commit and became a bounty hunter.
When he met him almost five years later, Dover was also a bounty hunter. He had soured on a lawman’s high risk for low pay and lower esteem. The shine of the badge had dulled for Dover, but bounty hunting still satisfied his desire for justice…and his new-found desire for money…
“Hello.”
The voice disturbed his reverie.
He looked at Linda Hamilton, still wearing white but without her white cap. Her brown hair was attractively arranged. Her eyes, now a little tired, were still sad.
“Hello,” he said. “I thought you might be hungry.”
“I usually have something to eat after my shift.”
“I’m a little hungry myself.”
“I usually eat alone,” she said. After a moment she added, “But I
He smiled and said, “Good, and as a token of my appreciation, I’ll buy.”
Chapter Six
“Am I entitled to have my curiosity satisfied?” she asked over dinner.
She had suggested a small all-night restaurant a few blocks from the hospital. Decker felt naked during the walk, since he was armed only with Dover’s newly honed lucky piece. Still, she apparently made the walk herself several evenings a week. Under the circumstances he felt he could afford to take the walk once. Besides, she was there to protect him.
When they entered the restaurant, which was hardly more than a hole in the wall, the waitress greeted her warmly and by name. She was about Linda’s age, but the similarity ended there. The waitress wasn’t anywhere near as attractive as Linda Hamilton.
“Well?”
“Well what?” he asked.
“My curiosity?”
“You mean, now that you’re off duty?”
She smiled and said, “Yes, now that I’m off duty.”
“Ask.”
“First, who shot you?”
“Big ugly fella named Clyde.”
She frowned and said, “Why?”
