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Lucinda smiled. “That’s why we’re going to provide you some help.”

“Oh, shoot!” Scratch said suddenly. “You’re gonna ask us to be deputies!”

Bo had figured out where the meeting was going a couple of minutes earlier, so he wasn’t as surprised as Scratch. He didn’t say anything as Lucinda turned and waved a hand toward them, saying, “That’s right. Sheriff O’Brien, meet your new deputies.”

O’Brien just stared, overcome for the moment. Moisture leaked from one corner of his mouth.

Bo said, “Don’t you reckon you ought to ask us if we want the job?”

“What else are you going to do?” Rushford asked. “We all know what happened to you. The Deverys jumped you, stole everything you had, and left you for dead. You’re broke and you need a job. You’re not going to find one that pays better than this.”

Lucinda looked at the Texans and said, “I’m sorry if it seems like we’re railroading you into this, but the town needs help, and you two gentlemen are the only ones who have come along who seem capable of giving it.”

“How do you know what we’re capable of?” Bo asked.

Francis said, “I’ve seen tough hombres before. I know men who can take care of themselves when I see them. You two qualify…even if the first time I saw you, you were covered in…well, never mind. We all know what you were covered in.”

The other businessmen chimed in, asking Bo and Scratch to take the job. Bo heard the desperation in their voices, and after a minute, he held up his hands for quiet.

“I don’t reckon you can legally hire us without the sheriff going along with it,” he said. He turned to O’Brien. “What about it, Sheriff? Do you want Scratch and me to be your deputies?”

A calculating look appeared in O’Brien’s eyes. He might be drunk, but he was still cunning. “Does that mean that you two fellas would do all the work?”

“I expect we’d have to do most of it,” Scratch answered, not bothering to keep the disgust out of his voice.

“But I’d still be the sheriff?”

“Technically, yes,” Lucinda said. “At least until your term of office is up, and that’s not until next year.”

“Well…as long as I don’t have to do anything…”

“Blast it, just say yes, Biscuits!” Sam Bradfield burst out.

O’Brien looked cowed. “All right, all right. You don’t have to yell at me. I guess it’d be all right if these two gents were my deputies.”

“Then it’s done,” Lyle Rushford said.

“You’ll need guns,” Abner Malden told Bo and Scratch. “Come on over to my store, and I’ll outfit you. Free of charge.”

Not to be outdone, Malden’s competitor Lionel Gaines said, “And if there’s anything else you need, come to my store. I carry everything.”

While the two storekeepers glared at each other, Ed Dabney offered, “I can provide horses for you while you’re working for the town.”

“And of course you can take all your meals here,” Lucinda added.

A grin stretched across Scratch’s face. “That’s a mighty powerful incentive right there.”

“Your money’s no good in the Colorado Palace, either,” Rushford told them. “I can talk to Harlan Green at the hotel, and I’ll bet he can find rooms for you.”

Wallace Kane said, “I’d offer you my services, gentlemen, but I doubt that you’ll need to have any ore assayed while you’re serving as deputies. However, if the situation comes up, don’t hesitate to come see me.”

Sam Bradfield smiled. “And I don’t figure you’ll want to take advantage of my services any time soon.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Scratch said, drawing puzzled frowns from everyone in the room except Bo. “Not personal-like, you understand,” the silver-haired Texan went on, “but I reckon once word gets around town about us bein’ deputies, we’ll be sendin’ you some business, Mr. Bradfield.”

“It’s liable to be another boom,” Bo added grimly.

CHAPTER 12

It was late in the morning, so Lucinda needed to reopen the café for the lunch rush. She needed every bit of profit she could make in order to pay off the Deverys and keep going. The meeting had served its purpose anyway.

As the businessmen filed out of the café, Bo spoke quietly to Lucinda. “You might want to see about forming a real town council, Mrs. Bonner, with a mayor and everything. That way you can pass local ordinances you want enforced. Right now, all Scratch and I can do is enforce the state laws.”

“That’s a good idea,” Lucinda agreed. “I’ll talk to everyone. In the meantime, enforcing the state laws will be a good start. That will cover murder and robbery, anyway.”

Bo nodded. “Yes, ma’am, it will.”

He and Scratch left with Biscuits O’Brien and Abner Malden. The storekeeper escorted them up the street to his establishment. It felt good to be walking openly along the street again, rather than slinking through alleys. That sort of furtiveness really went against the grain for the Texans.

It was entirely possible, even likely, that some of the men they passed in the crowded street were members of the Devery family. Some of them might have even been members of the group that had attacked the Texans in the livery stable.

Bo and Scratch couldn’t worry about being recognized now. If they were going to function as deputies, they couldn’t hide.

But both of them were going to feel better once they had loaded guns on their hips again.

They reached Malden’s store and went inside. As they looked over the selection of guns the storekeeper had on display, Bo asked, “Have there ever been any deputies here in Mankiller before?”

Malden looked like he didn’t want to answer that question, but finally he said, “Well, yes. And a couple of sheriffs before Biscuits—I mean Sheriff O’Brien—too.”

“What happened to ’em?” Scratch asked. “And I got a feelin’ I ain’t gonna like the answer.”

“Some of them quit,” Malden said. “They were attacked…jumped in the night and roughed up. No one knows who was responsible for that.”

“Or at least nobody wanted to admit knowing,” Bo said.

Malden shrugged. “Around here, it amounts to the same thing.”

“How about the ones who didn’t quit?”

Again, Malden hesitated before saying, “No one really knows. Maybe they left in the middle of the night. All that’s certain is that they weren’t around anymore.”

Scratch said, “What you mean is that the Deverys’ hogs got ’em.”

“If that was the case, there wouldn’t be any proof left, would there?”

Bo said, “How do you know Scratch and I won’t wind up the same way?”

“To be honest, we don’t. But we’re hoping that you and Mr. Morton will be able to take care of yourselves better than those other men.”

“Yeah, we hope so, too,” Scratch said.

Bo looked over at O’Brien, who had sat down on a cracker barrel and appeared to have dozed off. “How did Biscuits wind up being sheriff?”

“Well, as you can imagine, after everything that had happened, no one really wanted the job,” Malden explained. “Then Pa Devery came up with the idea of giving it to Biscuits. I’m not sure why. Maybe he just thought it was funny.”

“Yeah,” Scratch said. “Hilarious.”

“Anyway, Biscuits was living pretty much hand to mouth, at that point. He was glad to get the wages, plus a place to sleep.” Malden’s mouth tightened in disapproval. “He spends most nights in one of the cells, sleeping off his latest bender.”

“Does he ever try to enforce the law?”