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“You boys have to do what I say, when I say.”

“We will, Pa,” Thomas said.

“Every step of the way,” Shaye added, “no questions asked.”

“We will,” Matthew said.

“James?”

“Yeah, Pa?”

“You’ll have to do the cooking.”

James smiled and said, “Right, Pa.”

Shaye stepped forward and spread his arms wide. The three boys stepped forward and all four embraced briefly, but powerfully.

“Let’s go and get outfitted, then,” Shaye said. “Like somebody just told me, it’s the least this town can do.”

4

The Shaye men spent the rest of the day outfitting themselves with clothing, weapons, food, and horses. In every store they entered they received nothing but cooperation, but no one dared look any of them in the eye.

The clothing they bought had to be good for warm or cold weather, whichever way the trail took them. The food had to be carried between them, because Shaye didn’t want any pack animals slowing them down. Jerky, bacon, and beans would make up their diet for as long as the hunt took.

Shaye allowed the boys to go and buy the clothing and food without him, but he accompanied them to buy weapons and horses. Thomas carried a new Peacemaker and was able to shoot very well with it. Matthew had an old Navy Colt, and James did not have a gun of his own. Shaye obtained for Matthew and James guns identical to their older brother’s, and they all got the newest model Winchester. All four of them got a new horse for the hunt, picked more for stamina than speed. None of the boys complained about leaving their own horses behind.

“The hunt” was what they were calling it. They did not pretend that it was anything but, because when you hunted, it was understood that you intended to kill your prey.

“I want the three of you to understand something,” Shaye said to his sons later that night, when they were in the Red Garter Saloon. Their presence had killed business for the night, since no one wanted to be in the same room with them—not after the funeral and the sheriff’s unsuccessful attempt to gather a posse. The only other people in the place were the bartender and two saloon girls.

“What’s that, Pa?” Matthew asked.

“We’re not going after these men to bring them back,” Shaye said. “We’re going after them to kill them.”

“Won’t that get you in trouble?” James asked. “I mean, you bein’ the law an’ all?”

“It could get us all in trouble,” Shaye admitted. “We’re all representing the law, but more than that, we’re representing the husband and sons of Mary Shaye. In my book, that’s even more important.”

“To us too, Pa,” Thomas assured him.

“You haven’t killed anyone, you haven’t even ever shot at anyone,” Shaye said. “That’s all going to change.”

“We know that, Pa,” Matthew said.

“Are you ready for it?”

“Sure we are,” James said enthusiastically.

“I don’t think you are,” Shaye said, filling four shot glasses with rye from a bottle he was holding, “but by the time we catch up to them, you will be, because you’re all going to get your education on the trail.”

He picked up his glass and his sons emulated him.

“Here’s to the memory of Mary Shaye,” the father said, and the sons lifted their glasses and joined him in downing his toast.

“Now you boys better get off to bed,” Shaye said. “No more drinking tonight. You’ve got to be sharp in the morning.”

“What about you, Pa?” Thomas asked.

“I’ll be along,” Shaye said. “Go on, do as I say.”

Thomas stood and his brother followed his lead. As they went out the door, Shaye poured himself another glass of rye.

Later Dan Shaye stood in the moonlight at his wife’s grave, still holding the bottle.

“I have to take them with me, Mary,” he said to his dead wife, “if only because I don’t know if I’ll be coming back. I sure have a better chance of coming back with them than without them, though, don’t I?”

He took a drink from the bottle and then tossed it away, still half full. He wasn’t foolish enough to get drunk the night before the hunt started.

“I’d swear to God that I’ll try my best to keep them safe, but I’m kind of mad at God right now, so I’ll just give you my promise. I’ll keep them safe, and I’ll kill the murdering bastards who took you from us.”

With the promise offered and—he hoped—accepted, he turned and walked to the house where he and his sons would spend the night for perhaps the last time.

The next morning the four Shaye men split the supplies evenly among them and mounted their horses in front of the livery stable.

“Where we headed, Pa?” James asked.

“North,” Shaye said. “They headed north.”

“Why not south, to Mexico?” Matthew asked.

“Because Ethan Langer doesn’t run and hide after he hits a bank,” Shaye said. “He joins up with his brother Aaron, after he and his men also hit a bank.”

“You mean they hit banks in different towns at the same time?” Thomas asked.

“Roughly the same time,” Shaye said. “I got a telegram yesterday from the sheriff up in Prairie Bend, South Dakota, that the Langer gang hit their bank yesterday. It’s a competition between them, I think, to see who gets more money.”

“Is that sheriff tracking them?” James asked.

“Won’t go out of his jurisdiction.”

“So where will they go?” Matthew asked.

“Aaron and his part of the gang will go south, while Ethan and his part will go north. They’ll probably meet up somewhere in Kansas.”

“So we’re goin’ to Kansas?” James asked.

“We’re going north,” Shaye said. “Wherever they end up, that’s where we’ll end up.”

5

Ethan Langer poured himself a cup of coffee and replaced the pot without offering any of his men some. Terry Petry picked up the pot and filled his own cup. The other men were too busy eating to notice or care what was going on with the coffee.

“Whataya think, Ethan?” Petry asked. “We do better than Aaron and the boys?”

“We won’t know till we meet up,” Langer said.

“Yeah, I know, but whataya guess?”

“I don’t guess, Terry,” Langer said. “I never guess. I pick my banks because it’s where I know we’ll do the best. Aaron picks his the same way. We’ll see who got the most when we meet up, like always.”

“Okay, sure,” Petry said, “sure, Ethan.”

Langer drank his coffee and avoided looking into the fire. He’d had one plate of bacon and beans and that had been enough. Despite what he told Petry, he was wondering how his brother Aaron had done in South Dakota. He hated going north himself, because he hated the cold. That’s why most of the jobs he’d pulled over the past year had been in Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona.

“Too bad about the woman,” Petry said.

“Huh?”

“That woman that we rode down,” the other man said. “Too bad she was in the street.”

“Stupid bitch got what she deserved,” Langer said.

“Wonder who she was?”

“Who cares?” Langer demanded. “Look, Petry, go and sit at the other fire, okay? Yer startin’ to piss me off.”

There were two campfires for the eight men, and they were sitting four and four, but now Langer took out his gun and waved it around.

“All of ya, go sit by the other fire, damn it! Now!”