“Well, if you ever run into him again, bring him to see me,” Garland said. “A specimen like that should be written up in the medical journals.”
Since the doctor was finished, the three lawmen told him good night and headed for the marshal’s office. “What now, Frank?” Clint asked as they walked along the street. “You think maybe anybody can testify that there was a connection between Hammersmith and Munro and those two dead bushwhackers?”
Frank shook his head. “Munro is too smart and careful for that, and Hammersmith probably is too. I’d say I’m back where I started.”
“Not quite,” Jack said. “Them two hired guns are dead. They won’t be comin’ after you again.”
“No, they won’t,” Frank said, “but I’m afraid there are plenty more where those two came from.”
If Munro was disappointed that the marshal of Buckskin was still alive, he gave no sign of it when Frank went to see the mining magnate the next morning. He found Munro and his wife in the dining room of the hotel, having breakfast. Munro didn’t invite Frank to join them.
“What can I do for you, Marshal?”
Frank had decided it was time to change tacks for the moment. “You know that strike is still going on out at the Lucky Lizard.”
Munro patted his lips with a napkin and his wife looked disinterested. “I’m afraid I haven’t been keeping up with that, since it’s not really any of my business,” Munro said.
Tip Woodford had been by the office earlier that morning to talk to Frank about the strike, and he seemed very discouraged about it. The miners were standing firm in their demands for higher wages, shorter hours, and more safety precautions in the mine. As Tip had put it, “I can go along with shorter shifts, and I already want the mine to be as safe as I can get it, but I just can’t afford to pay the wages they’re askin’ for.”
Now Frank said to Munro, “I’m a mite curious about the way you’re paying your workers more than Tip Woodford was paying the fellas who were working for him.”
Munro shrugged and said, “I don’t know what concern it is of yours what I pay my men, Marshal. It’s not really a matter for the law, now is it?”
“It might be, if you were paying those wages in a deliberate attempt to cause a strike at the Lucky Lizard and put Woodford out of business.”
“It’s called competition,” Munro snapped.
“Yeah, but if you sent those Fowler brothers over there to stir up trouble—”
“Hammersmith fired the Fowler brothers,” Munro cut in.
“So he claims. What I’m wondering is if they’re still working for the Alhambra.”
Munro glared up at Frank. “Those are very serious accusations,” he said.
“I’m not finished.” Frank reached into his shirt pocket and drew out a bit of wood. He placed it on the table. “This came from one of the timbers inside the Lucky Lizard where that cave-in happened. Somebody used acid to weaken it and some of the other timbers, so they would give way and let the ceiling collapse.”
Munro shot to his feet and asked in a cold, angry voice, “What are you saying, Marshal?”
“I’m saying that I think you’re behind that cave-in and the strike at the Lucky Lizard, and I think you had something to do with the explosion at the Crown Royal’s stamp mill too.”
Munro trembled with rage. His face was flushed a dark red by now. “By God, you go too far, Marshal! To come in here and…and accuse a man of cold-blooded murder in front of his wife like this! The gall of it!” He leaned forward and rested his knuckles on the table. “Well, you’ll be sorry, Morgan. You’ll rue the day you decided to take on Hamish Munro!”
Frank ignored the apoplectic mining magnate for the moment and looked over at Jessica Munro instead. He nodded to her and tugged on the brim of his hat. “I’m sorry if I’ve upset you, ma’am,” he said, although as far as he could see, Jessica wasn’t upset at all. She was keeping her face carefully expressionless, as if she didn’t really understand what was going on, but Frank saw the intelligence and awareness in her eyes. Again, he wondered if in the long run she might be more dangerous than her husband.
“Get out!” Munro said, flinging up an arm and pointed at the door. “This is private property, and I want you out of here, Morgan!”
“I’m the law in Buckskin,” Frank pointed out. “That gives me the right to go pretty much where I need to.”
“No crime has been committed here. Get out of here, and I warn you, if you continue to spread vicious lies about me, I’ll take legal action against you!”
“I reckon you already took action against me,” Frank said in a calm voice, “although it sure wasn’t the legal kind.”
Munro stared at him. “What are you talking about now?”
“Maybe you heard…a couple of hombres tried to kill me last night.”
Munro sneered and said, “From what I’ve seen, people are always trying to kill you. It must have something to do with the fact that you’re a notorious gunfighter.”
“This was different. This was an ambush, by the same sort of hired guns who blew up the Crown Royal for you.”
“Not for me,” Munro insisted with a shake of his head. “And I didn’t have anything to do with any attempt on your life last night either.”
“So you say,” Frank said. “So you say.”
“Are you going to leave us alone?” Munro asked in a voice that shook with rage.
“I reckon I’ve said what I came to say. All the cards are on the table now, Munro. We both know what you’ve been doing around here, you and Hammersmith. And one way or another, it’s going to end.”
“Are you threatening me?”
Frank shook his head. “Just letting you know that there comes a time when all the sneaking around and trying to manipulate things behind the scenes is over. When you have to make a stand for good or bad and settle things like men.”
“I’m not going to fight you,” Munro said. “Good Lord, I’m not a gunslinger!”
“No,” Frank said. “You just pay them to do your killing for you.”
With that, he turned and walked out of the hotel. He had accomplished what he had come here to do. He had put Munro on notice that all hell was about to break loose. He was sick and tired of trying to play out this hand with all the legal niceties and pussyfooting around. If he had to take off his badge to settle things, that was just what he would do.
The sound of hurrying footsteps on the boardwalk made him pause and look around. Jessica Munro was coming after him. He stopped to wait for her.
“I told you my husband isn’t involved in what Hammersmith has been doing, Marshal,” she said as she came up to him. “You promised you’d keep Hamish out of it.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Frank said, “but you know as well as I do that Hammersmith isn’t the sort of man to go behind your husband’s back. Mr. Munro knows everything that Hammersmith has been doing.” Frank gave a little shrug. “Except maybe for that ambush last night. That might’ve been Hammersmith’s doing.” He looked past her at the front doors of the hotel. “I’m surprised your husband would let you come after me like this.”
“Hamish doesn’t know. He went upstairs in a rage to talk to Nathan Evers about going to Carson City and complaining to the governor about your actions. He doesn’t know that I’ve ever even spoken to you, certainly not alone.”
Frank gave her a faint smile. “Well, then, it seems more like you’re the one used to going behind his back, not Hammersmith.”
She gave him a long, cool look for a moment, then said, “Are you implying that I’m your enemy as well, Marshal?”