Houser chuckled. “Oh, it’s him, all right, but after a little adventure, or should I say, misadventure, he had in Seven Oaks, he found it necessary to change his name. Right now he is with the herd in an area we call the Pine Flats.”
Houser raised his hand toward the other man who was in the room.
“This is Mr. Knox. I have asked him to take you to see my brother. Then afterward, if you are agreeable to it, I thought the three of us might have dinner in town tonight, at Tacky Mack’s.”
“Yes, yes, that sounds like a fine idea,” Sobel said.
This might be easier than he had thought it would be, Sobel thought. If they were already in town, all he would have to do is find some way to excuse himself, then go to the sheriff with the wanted poster. The sheriff would arrest Shamrock, authorize payment of the reward, and Sobel could be on his way, $5,000 richer.
Houser stepped out of the office with them and stood there watching as the two men rode off. Not until they were gone, did he call out to one of the deputies.
“Mr. Wix, would you please ask my brother to come see me?”
Houser waited until Shamrock came to him a few minutes later.
“Whadda you want?”
“Mr. Knox has taken an old friend of ours out to the Pine Flats to look for you.”
“What did he go out there for? I been right here, all along.”
“That is why I sent him out there. The old friend I’m talking about is Abe Sobel. We don’t want him to find you. As a matter of fact, we don’t want him here, at all.”
“Why not?”
“Think about it, Thomas. He knows what happened back in Sulphur Springs. He also knows that he could bring all this down on us. It makes us perfect candidates for blackmail.”
“Blackmail? How could he blackmail us? He done that job with us, remember?”
“He could win amnesty by turning state’s evidence. That’s why I’m going to have Mr. Knox kill him.”
“Oh yeah, right. That’s probably a good thing.”
“After Mr. Knox has done the job, he is going to wait for you to join him, out in the Pine Flats.”
“What for?”
“He thinks it is because you will be bringing him two hundred and fifty dollars, and helping him bury Sobel, but that isn’t the reason. Do you remember when I asked if you would be willing to take care of Mr. Knox?”
“Yeah.”
“Now is the time. Mr. Knox has become a liability to us, and I want you to kill him.”
“He’s awful fast, Brad. I’m not sure I can.”
“I’m not asking you to make a contest of it, Thomas. I just want you to kill him.”
Shamrock smiled. “Yeah, I can do that. You want me to bury them both out there?”
“Take a couple of shovels with you so Knox will think you are going to help bury Sobel, but there’s no need for you to bury either of them.”
“If I don’t bury them, they’ll be found.”
“We want them found.”
“Why?”
“Don’t worry about it, I know what I’m doing.”
* * *
When Shamrock dismounted half an hour later, he saw Knox standing over Abe Sobel’s body.
“You got the other two hundred ’n fifty dollars?” Knox asked.
“Yeah, and two shovels,” Shamrock said, taking them down from where he had them tied to the saddle. He handed one of the shovels to Knox. “You start digging at that end, and I’ll start at this end.”
As soon as Knox turned his back, Shamrock swung his shovel around, catching Knox in the back of the head and knocking him down. Then, as Knox lay on the ground, Shamrock shot him twice.
* * *
Later that same day, Turley came into town driving a buckboard. Houser was in the seat beside him, and Shamrock, on horseback, was riding alongside. They stopped in front of the sheriff’s office, and as Turley remained with the buckboard, Houser and Shamrock stepped inside.
Sheriff Sharpie was sitting at his desk, working on a kerosene lantern that was disassembled before him.
“Sheriff Sharpie, I don’t know if you have met Captain Harris, a territorial deputy, specially commissioned by the governor,” Houser said.
Sheriff Sharpie stood and extended his hand. “I haven’t met you, Captain Harris, but I have certainly heard of you. Welcome to Chugwater.”
“Thanks,” Shamrock said.
“Unfortunately, Sheriff, this isn’t a social call,” Houser said. “Earlier today an old friend of ours, Abe Sobel, came to pay a visit. He wanted to take a look around the ranch, so I assigned one of my men, Knox, to show him around. My brother, hearing that an old friend had come to visit, rode out to catch up with them. That’s when it happened.”
“That’s when what happened?”
“I’ll let my brother describe the event,” Houser said, looking toward Shamrock.
“Well, sir, just as I got there, I seen Knox robbin’ poor old Abe of two hundred ’n fifty dollars, then as Abe give ’im the money, he shot ’im. I yelled at Knox, ’n he shot at me, so I kilt ’im.”
“Both bodies are in the back of the buckboard, parked out front,” Houser said.
Once outside, Sheriff Sharpie pulled just enough of the canvas back to see their faces. He nodded. “This is Knox, all right, I remember him from shooting Hastings and Carson. And what did you say this man’s name was?”
“Sobel, Abe Sobel,” Houser said. “He is an old family friend.” Houser shook his head. “How awful that he came all this way to visit friends and wound up like this. I blame myself, you know. After all, I’m the one that hired Knox. If I had had any idea that something like this would have happened, I would not have been so robust in defending him when you had him under arrest, earlier. If I had let him stay in jail, poor Mr. Sobel would still be alive.” Houser pinched the bridge of his nose. “I
