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Authors: Robert J. Randisi

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“Bullshit!”

“Now look—” Burkett started, but Evan stood and cut the man off.

“Nobody can tell me my father agreed to a deal like that…not of his own free will!”

“Are you suggesting that my purchase of this house and this land was not legal, sir?”

“I’m saying it wasn’t on the up and up,” Evan said. “It couldn’t have been.”

“I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, Mr. McCall, but someone must be giving you bad information—”

“I suppose it wasn’t you who had some of your men beat up Dude Miller the other night?”

“Mr. Miller was beaten up?” Burkett said, looking surprised. “I hadn’t heard that. I hope he wasn’t severely injured.”

“As if you really care.”

“Now, Mr. McCall,” Burkett said, standing, “if you’regoing to become abusive I’m going to have to ask you to leave my house.”

“Your house!” Evan said, rising to his feet in disgust. “You stole this house, Burkett, and my brothers and I intend to prove
it.”

Burkett’s hand came up and he was holding a Navy Colt in it that must have come out of his desk. It was a pretty big gun to
keep in a desk drawer. Evan assumed that when Burkett produced it he intended to impress someone.

Evan was impressed, and he was angrier than before, this time at himself for being caught flatfooted like that. Sam wouldn’t
have allowed that to happen.…

“Please,” Burkett said, “leave.”

“I’m leaving,” Evan said, moving toward the door, “but you haven’t seen the last of me.”

“Don’t make threats, McCall,” Burkett said, dropping his polite act. “You’re in no position.”

“I’m not making threats, Burkett, I’m making a promise. If my brothers and I find out you had anything to do with my father’s
death—”

“Oh, so now I’m a murderer?” Burkett demanded, cocking the hammer on the Colt.

Evan stared at the barrel of the Colt and said, “I don’t know—suppose you tell me.”

There was a tense moment as the two men stood that way, and then Burkett slowly let the hammer on the Colt down.

“I haven’t had anyone beaten up, I didn’t have anyone killed, and I bought this house legally. If you want to prove otherwise,
be my guest.”

Evan put his hat on and left, too angry for words.

Riding back he thought maybe he should have let Sam come. Maybe when Burkett went for the Navy Colt, Sam would’ve seen the
move and killed him.

Maybe, if Burkett had been facing Sam McCall instead of Evan, he never would have gone for the gun.

As the front door closed on Evan McCall, Burkett put the Navy Colt away and left the room. He walked down the hall and opened
the first door he came to.

“Could you hear all that?” he asked Coffin.

“I heard.”

“That was Evan McCall.”

“I said I heard. What do you want me to do?”

“Eventually, I’ll want you to kill Sam McCall’maybe even all the McCalls.”

“Eventually?”

“I don’t want to jeopardize my standing in this community, Burkett said, “not just yet. I want to watch them for a while.”

“I get paid, whether I kill them or not.”

“Of course,” Burkett said. “For now take a room at the hotel and keep yourself ready.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s all…for now.”

Coffin shrugged.

“It’s your money.”

“It’s my money,” Burkett said, “my ranch, and my town. Soon everyone will know that.”

When Evan returned to town he found Sam and Jubal waiting for him at the Miller house.

“What happened?” Jubal asked as Serena led Evan into the parlor.

“You don’t look like it went real well,” Sam said.

“Remember what a good idea I thought it was if I went alone?”

“Yes?”

Evan related his conversation with Burkett word for word, then watched his brothers and waited.

“So?” Sam finally said.
“Wa s
it good sherry?”

“Is that all you can say?”

Sam shrugged.

“So you made an ass out of yourself. It happens to us all at some time or another. I’m sure this wasn’t your first time?”

“And it won’t be your last,” Serena said.

“I woulda killed him,” Jubal said.

“You probably would have got yourself killed,” Sam said. “Evan did fine.”

“I started airing my lungs and got caught flatfooted,” Evan said. “That wouldn’t have happened to you.”

“I’ve been known to cuss my head off a time or two,” Sam said.

“He was lying, you know,” Serena said. “About everything.”

“He probably was,” Sam said, “but we still can’t prove it.”

“We should just kill him,” Jubal said.

“That’s real smart thinkin’, kid,” Sam said.

Jubal stuck his jaw out and said, “Don’t tell me you ain’t never killed anybody.”

“Sure I did, when they needed killin—and when they were tryin’ to kill me. Now shut up and let the adults think.”

“I ain’t an adult?” Jubal asked, belligerently.

“You ain’t actin’ like one.”

“I’ll show you who ain’t an adult.”

“Pshh.” Sam made a sound that meant “Don’t bother me,” and Jubal stepped up, swung and hit his older brother right in the
jaw.

Sam’s head jerked a bit, certainly not the reaction Jubal was looking for. On top of that, Jubal had hurt his hand.

“Ow,” he said, and then his eyes widened as he saw Samswing backhanded. He couldn’t avoid the blow, which struck him on the
jaw and knocked him over the sofa.

“Stop it!” Serena shouted.

“I’ll stop them,” Evan said.

He went over to Jubal and hauled him to his feet.

“That’s enough, kid.”

“I told you not to call me kid,” Jubal said, and he hit Evan. “Damn!” he said, because he used his already bruised hand.

“Why, you—” Evan said, and hit Jubal in the stomach. Jubal grabbed himself and fell onto his butt. He sat there, gasping,
trying to get his air.

“Stop it!” Serena said again.

“It’s stopped,” Sam said, scowling down at Jubal. “You wanna hit anyone else?”

Jubal looked up, his eyes wide, and shook his head.

“All right,” Sam said, “so we’ve all let off a little steam and we didn’t break any furniture, or any bones…” He looked
down at Jubal and said, “Did we?”

Jubal was breathing a bit easier, but he wasn’t yet able to speak, so he just shook his head.

“Serena, why don’t you make some coffee and we’ll sit down and see if we can’t figure out what our next move should be.”

“If I leave the room you won’t start hitting each other again, will you?”

“No,” Sam said. “In fact, we’ll even help Jubal up.”

She gave them all a dubious look, as if she expected them all to start swinging as soon as she was gone, and then turned and
went into the kitchen. She listened for a moment, didn’t hear anything that would indicate a fight had broken out, and then
proceeded to make coffee.

Chapter Nine

Mike Gear watched Coffin mount his horse and leave and then went to tell Chuck Conners that the man was gone. Conners was
standing by the bunkhouse with Earl Murray and Greg Tobin. Gear, Murray, and Tobin were the three men who had beaten up Dude
Miller.

“Coffin’s gone, Chuck,” Gear said.

“I don’t understand why the boss thinks he needs Coffin,” Murray said. “We can take care of the McCall brothers.”

“You think so?” Conners asked. He was also stung by the fact that Burkett thought he had to go outside his own men to handle
the McCall brothers—specifically, Sam McCall.

“I know so,” Murray said.

“What about you guys?”

Gear and Tobin exchanged glances, and then Gear said, “Yeah, we can handle them.”

“All right, then,” Conners said. “Maybe we should try and save the boss some money. Whataya say?”

“I say let’s do it,” Gear said, and the others nodded enthusiastically.

“Of course,” Conners said, “it wouldn’t hurt us any if we were known as the men who killed Sam McCall, huh?”

The other three men grinned widely and nodded their agreement.

“All right, then,” Conners said, again, “let’s decide how we’re gonna do this.”

“We need someone who knows that the whole deal was phony,” Sam said.

“Who would that be?” Serena asked. “I mean,
we
know the deal was phony.”

“But we can’t prove it,” Sam said. “We need someone who will testify.”

“To who?” Evan asked.

“We’ll have to bring in some outside law,” Sam said. “A federal marshal.”

“You know anybody?”

“I have a friend,” Sam said, thinking of his friend, a man named Murdock, who was a federal marshal up north. “He might be
able to recommend someone we can work with.”

“Why not him?”

“He usually works further north,” Sam said, “but I’ll send him a telegram.”

“How do we know that Burkett doesn’t control the telegraph office?” Jubal asked.

“That’s a good point, little brother,” Sam said, “but remember, Dude sent over a dozen telegrams out to me in Montana. If
Burkett controlled the telegraph key in town, those messages never would have gotten out and I never would have gotten the
one I did.”

“All right,” Evan said, “so we send a telegram to your friend Murdock and he sends one back with a name. We still aren’t going
to get a marshal here without proof.”

“Then that’s our next order of business,” Sam said. “We’re gonna have to split up and start askin’ questions.”

“Burkett’s not going to like that,” Serena said, “and he will find out about it.”

“We’ll just have to be alert,” Sam said. “Evan, one of us will have to stay with Serena at all times, instead of switching
off.”

“Am I volunteering?” Evan asked with a smile.

“I thought you never would.”

“Wait a minute,” Serena said, “don’t I have anything to say about who my bodyguard is?”

“No,” Sam said.

“Why not?” she asked, bristling.

“Because if you picked one of us,” Sam said, “the other two would feel slighted. You wouldn’t want that to happen, would you?”

She glared at Sam for a moment, and then had to laugh in spite of herself.

“Why Sam McCall,” she said, “you could become a politician.”

“Bite your tongue.”

“Very well,” she said, “I accept Evan as my bodyguard.”

Evan executed as gracious a bow as he could manage while seated at the table.

“When do we get started?” Jubal asked. “I’m gettin’ tired of all this talk.”

“We get started right now,” Sam said, standing up. “Right now.”

As Coffin rode into town he saw three men and a woman standing on the boardwalk just at the point where the main street started.
He knew Sam McCall on sight, and assumed that the other two men were his brothers. He didn’t know who the woman was, and he
didn’t care. If he wanted a woman he’d go to the whorehouse. They weren’t worth much more effort than that.

Coffin rode past them, keeping his head straight but studying Sam McCall as well as he could peripherally. He’d heard and
read all the stories about Sam McCall, but he’d also read and heard all the stories about his own exploits, so he knew how
much they were worth. What worked in his favor was that he had seen Sam McCall in action on two occasions, once in St. Louis,
and once inMexico. Neither time had he allowed McCall to see him, although if the man was as good as Coffin thought he was,
he might have noticed that he was being watched.

Coffin was thirty-five, but he felt old beyond his years. By the time he picked up his first gun Sam McCall had already earned
himself a reputation. He made up for lost time, though, killing four men before he was twenty and earning a rep of his own
by his twenty-first birthday.

Coffin had always operated on the fringe of the law, hiring his gun out, hunting for bounty. He had never killed just for
the sake of killing. He thought men who did that were fools. Eventually they’d end up being killed for nothing. Men like him
and McCall killed when they had to, and that was often enough. Trouble followed them around like a black cloud, and they dealt
with it. Men who succumbed to it didn’t built reps because they died at an early age. The fact that McCall had lived past
forty was testimony to just how good he really was.

Coffin left his horse at the livery with the Swede and went over to register at the hotel. He wanted a nap. One of the reasons
he had lasted so long was that he took care of his body and never pushed it beyond its limits. He needed some sleep, and then
some food, and then some recreation. Tomorrow, he’d start watching McCall, and McCall would know he was being watched. Coffin
would not approach McCall unless Burkett told him to. There was no percentage in it unless he was being paid.

Of course, he wondered which of them was best, but that was a shit-poor reason to call a man out.

Money was the only driving force in Coffin’s life. He had no ego, and that was a major reason why he was still alive.

“Sam,” Evan said.

“Yeah?”

“The man who just rode in.

“His name is Coffin.”

“You know him?”

“I know of him.”

“The man all in black?” Serena said. “He’s frightening.”

“He should be,” Sam said.

“Wait a minute,” Evan said. “Coffin…I know that name.”

“Sure you do,” Sam said, “a lot of people do.”

“The way they know yours, Sam?” Jubal asked.

Sam looked at Jubal and said, “Sure, ki—sure, the way they know mine.”

“Think he’s here for you?” Jubal asked.

Sam shrugged.

“He’s here,” he said. “We’ll deal with that fact if the need arrives. For now let’s get to doin’ what we’re supposed to be
doin’.”

“Right,” Jubal said. “I’ll work the other side of the street.”

“Don’t push too hard, Jube,” Evan said. “Just ask a few questions, and most important, keep your ears open.”

“Right.”

“And stay out of trouble,” Sam said.

Jubal was already crossing the street, and he turned, spread his arms and said, “Of course.”

“Evan, I’ll work the side streets.”

“All right, Sam. Serena and I will work this side of Main Street.”

“Serena, where’s the telegraph office?”

“Two streets down, on your right.”

“I’ll work my way over to it.”

“Serena,” Evan said, “why don’t you wait over by the gunsmith shop for a minute.”

“Why?”

“I just want to talk to Sam for a second.”

Her mouth tightened at her dismissal, but she did as she was asked.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked.

“When I was out at Burkett’s, Coffin was there, too.”

“Are you sure?”

“I saw his horse. That big black is not easy to mistake.”

“No, it’s not,” Sam said. “I guess that means there’s a good chance he is workin’ for Burkett.”

“A good chance? Doesn’t that cinch it?”

“No,” Sam said. “He could have been there to hear an offer from Burkett, and he might have turned it down.”

“Do you think there’s an offer from Burkett that a man like Coffin could turn down?”

“Probably not,” Sam said. “Coffin does what he does for money, I know that much about him.”

“Can you take him, Sam?” Evan asked. “I mean, if it comes to it, can you take him?”

Sam hesitated a moment and then said, “I don’t know, Evan. I don’t know
that
much about him.”

“Hello, Mr. Collins?”

Ed Collins turned and saw Serena standing at his counter with a well-dressed, handsome man.

“Serena,” he said. “How nice to see you.”

“Mr. Collins, this is Evan McCall.”

“Mr. McCall,” Collins said, extending his hand. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you, Mr. Collins,” Evan said, shaking his hand.

“Serena tells me you’re one of her father’s supporters.”

“If by that you mean I don’t like what Lincoln Burkett is doing, then you’re right. I wish I’d been there the other night
when they dragged Dude from his house. It wouldn’t have been so—”

“Mr. Collins,” Serena said, putting her hand on his arm, “I appreciate what you’re saying, but you might havegotten the same—or
worse than’my father did. I’m glad you weren’t there.”

Collins took her hand and said, “You’re a treasure, Serena, did you know that?”

“Yes, Mr. Collins,” she said, laughing, “I know that.”

“What can I do for you, Mr. McCall? Do you need a gun? You can have the best in my store.”

“I have a gun, Mr. Collins. What we need is someone who knows something about the so-called ‘sale—of my father’s ranch to
Lincoln Burkett.”

“That shocked the hell out of me,” Collins said. “I didn’t know your father well, Mr. McCall—”

“Please,” Evan said, “call me Evan.”

“I didn’t know him well, Evan, but I’d done some business with him. He loved that ranch, I know that. I don’t understand why
he sold it.”

“Did you know the terms of the sale?”

“I did not. Why? Were they unusual?”

Evan related to Collins the exact terms, and Collins’ mouth fell open.

“Well, now I’m even more confused.”

“We need someone who knows more than that, Mr. Collins. I assume from our conversation that you do not.”

“I’m sorry, Evan, but I don’t,” Collins said. “I wish I could help you.”

“I appreciate that, Mr. Collins. Thanks for your time.”

“Thank you, Mr. Collins,” Serena said. She leaned over the counter and kissed the old man on the cheek.

As they were leaving Collins called out, “If there’s anything else I can do…if you or your brother need any guns…”

“We’ll be sure to call on you, Mr. Collins,” Evan said. “Thanks again.”

Outside Serena said, “I was sure he didn’t know anything. If he did he would have told my father long ago.”

“Sometimes,” Evan said, “people don’t know they know something until they’re asked.”

“Well, if that’s the case,” Serena said, “let’s keep asking.”

While the McCall brothers and Serena were asking their questions Mike Gear, Greg Tobin and Earl Murray rode into town with
four other men from the ranch. The extra four men were loyal to the foreman, Chuck Conners, and were willing to do whatever
they could for him.

As they rode in Gear spotted Serena and Evan McCall walking from one store to another on the left side of the street.

“That’s one of ’em,” he said to Murray, who nudged Tobin and repeated the words.

“Which one?” Tobin asked.

“Evan, the one who came out to see Mr. Burkett.”

“He don’t look so tough,” Tobin said.

“He’s a gambler,” Gear said, “not a gunman. Sam McCall’s the one we want. With him gone the others will be easy.”

“How are we gonna justify gunnin’ down Sam McCall?”

Murray asked.

Gear answered, “He’s Sam McCall, ain’t he? Besides, what’s the sheriff gonna do about it? Nothin’.”

“What about outside law?” Tobin asked.

“Forget about it,” Gear said. “A man like Sam McCall gets killed, people just naturally assume he was lookin’ for it—and we’re
gonna make sure he finds it.”

Evan saw the men riding in and recognized the brand on the horses.

“What is it?” Serena asked.

“Those are Burkett’s men, aren’t they?”

She looked at the men and said, “Yes. I recognize two of them. In fact,” she added, squinting her eyes for a better look,
“one of them looks like one of the men who beat up my father.”

“How can you tell? I thought you said they wore masks over their faces.”

“They did,” she said, “but one of them was squat, and thickly built, like that fellow in the center.”

“What are they doing in town now, I wonder?” Evan asked.

“Maybe they’re looking for someone else to beat up,” she suggested.

Evan nodded thoughtfully and then said, “Or worse.”

Sam worked his way up and down side streets until he reached the telegraph office. As he was entering he saw a group of men
riding by on Main Street. They paused and looked down the street at him, and then continued on. He went inside.

Jubal came out of a store just as the seven men paused on their horses. They were apparently peering down a side street. Jubal
didn’t know who they were, but he moved over to the side so he could look down the same street, and he saw Sam. It looked
as if they were watching Sam, but he couldn’t be sure. Jubal looked around and spotted a straight-backed wooden chair in front
of a store. He went over to the chair, moved it so he could see who was coming, and sat down.

“That was Sam McCall,” Gear said. “I’m sure of it.”

“Looked like he was goin’ into the telegraph office,” Tobin said. “Who do you suppose he’s sendin’ a telegram to?”

“I don’t know,” Gear said, “but we can get ’im when he comes out, and then find out. Come on, we’ll leave the horses by the
saloon and then walk back.”

Coffin couldn’t sleep. He was tired but he had the feeling that some kind of trouble was brewing. He could smell itin the
air. He got up off the bed and walked to his window, which overlooked Main Street. He saw the seven men tying their horses
off in front of the saloon, and he recognized one of them from the Burkett place.

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