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43

Sheriff Cotton was in his office when the telegraph clerk found him.

“Thad, where’s Dan Shaye?” he asked after the clerk left.

“I don’t know, Sheriff.”

“What are you doing now?”

“I gotta relieve Thomas on the roof of City Hall.”

Cotton folded up the telegram and looked up at Thad.

“Go and get Thomas off the roof and both of you come down. One of you find Dan and the other James. I need all of you here as soon as possible.”

“But we need somebody on watch—”

“Not today we don’t,” Cotton said. “Just do it.”

“Sure, Sheriff.”

As Thad left the office, Cotton unfolded the telegram and read it again.

“The Collier gang is in a town called Highbinder, Texas.”

“How far is that from here?” Shaye asked.

“About two days’ ride. I got a telegram from the sheriff there. They arrived today and checked out the bank.”

“What’s Highbinder’s bank like?” Shaye asked.

“That’s just it,” Cotton said. “They don’t have a bank there anymore. They used to, but all that’s left is the building. See, before the Bank of Pearl River Junction opened, all the ranchers for miles around kept their money there. Now it’s here.”

“And the gang knows that now,” Thomas said.

“Right. Sheriff Coffey says they took rooms and are going to stay overnight. If they leave town in the morning and head this way, he’ll send us another telegram.”

“So we’ve got a breather for a couple of days,” James said. “No more roof watches.”

“For now, no,” Cotton said, “but now that they know how much money our bank keeps on deposit…”

“Makes sense that they’d hit it,” Shaye said, “but probably not until after Jeb Collier meets with Belinda and sees the boy.”

“Wait,” Cotton said, “we can’t let him see them.”

“Why not?” Shaye said. “It’s the reason he’s coming here. Maybe if he sees her and she tells him to go away, he will.”

“He’s got seven men riding with him, according to this telegram,” Cotton said. “You think they’re going to come all this way and not try for the bank?”

“Probably not,” Shaye said. “You got any names?”

“Four,” Cotton said, consulting the telegram, “Leslie, Tanner, Jeb Collier, and Delay.”

“Wait,” Shaye said. “Vic Delay?”

“No first name,” Cotton said. “Why? Who’s Vic Delay?”

“A fast gun for hire,” Shaye said. “A killer.”

“Why would a killer be riding with Collier?” Cotton asked. “Isn’t he a bank robber?”

“Bank robbers don’t kill?” James asked.

“Well, yeah, they do,” Shaye said, “but Vic Delay has never been known for robbing banks, just for killing.”

“So then why’s he riding with the Collier gang?” Thomas asked.

“Maybe Jeb Collier thought he’d have need for a fast gun when he came here.”

“To find out if he has a son?” James asked.

“Collier’s got something else on his mind besides that—obviously,” Thomas said.

“Our bank,” Cotton said, “now that he knows about it.”

“How well is your bank protected?” Shaye asked.

“Two guards at all times,” Cotton said. “The bank employs their own men.”

“Well, we’ll have to warn them,” Shaye said.

“I’ll have a talk with the manager,” Cotton said, “and I guess I better talk to the mayor and the town council. We might be having some excitement in this town pretty soon.”

“I’ll go with you,” Shaye said.

“And what do we do?” James asked.

“You can stop taking shifts on the roof,” Cotton said. “In fact, you can take some time off, get some rest. We’ll tell you when you should come back.”

“We should probably keep one of them on duty, Riley,” Shaye said, “just to make normal rounds.”

“Okay,” Cotton said, “decide among yourselves who’ll make rounds tonight.”

“I’ll do it,” Thad said immediately. “I’m used to it.”

Sheriff Cotton got up, grabbed his gun belt from the peg behind him, and put it on.

“Let’s go, Dan,” he said, “we can still catch the bank during business hours. After that we’ll come back to City Hall and talk to the others.”

“You boys stay out of trouble during your time off,” Shaye warned his sons.

“Hey, we’re deputies now,” James said. “Nobody’s gonna want to start trouble with us.”

“If you believe that…” Thomas said, shaking his head.

On the way to the bank Cotton let Shaye read the telegram for himself.

“How fast is Vic Delay?” Cotton asked.

“Fast, accurate, deadly.”

“Have you ever seen him?”

“Once,” Shaye said, “years ago, in Abilene.” He handed the telegram back to Cotton.

“Maybe it’s a different Delay,” the sheriff said.

“Wishful thinking,” Shaye said. “Let’s just assume that Jeb Collier is on his way here with Vic Delay and six other men and go from there.”

“Why would he need to bring a killer—unless he means to kill Belinda?”

“He probably just figures he doesn’t know what to expect when he gets here,” Shaye said.

“Eight men,” Cotton said, shaking his head.

“Can you get any more deputies?” Shaye asked.

“Not with any experience.”

“When this is all over,” Shaye said, “you might consider getting the town council to let you bring in some experienced men—especially if your bank carries as much money as you say.”

“The town was trying to keep a low profile about that,” Cotton said. “They didn’t want to overstaff my office and figured the bank had its own men inside.”

“They gave you that big two-story office,” Shaye said. “You might as well put it to good use.”

“Well, if I come out of this alive, I’ll take it up with the town council,” Riley Cotton said.

“You’ll come out of it alive, Riley,” Shaye said. “We all will.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Shaye shrugged and said, “Thinking about the alternative really doesn’t appeal to me.”

44

The bank manager’s name was Edmund Brown and Shaye could see right from the first moment he met him that the man did not have much faith in the local law.

“We have enough men to handle any robbery attempt, gentlemen,” he said to Shaye and Cotton. “Our men are especially trained.”

“I realize that, Mr. Brown,” Cotton said. “We just wanted to warn you and let you know we’re on top of the situation.”

“Well, we appreciate that, Sheriff,” Brown said, “but rest assured, we can handle the situation ourselves. I’ll just put two more men on duty and that should take care of it.”

“How are they armed?” Shaye asked.

Brown looked at Shaye as if he was surprised that the deputy had spoken, instead of the sheriff.

“Our men have the newest Winchesters and the training to use them,” the bank manager said.

“Have they ever killed a man?”

“W-what?”

“Have they ever killed a man before?” Shaye asked again.

“Sheriff,” Brown said, “do you usually let your subordinates—”

“Mr. Shaye is no subordinate, Mr. Brown,” Cotton informed the man. “He has volunteered to help the town on this. He’s a well-known lawman in his own right.”

“Well, that may be,” Brown said, “but whether or not our men have killed before is not germane to the discussion.”

“I’m not sure what ‘germane’ means, Mr. Brown,” Shaye said, “but it sure is important whether or not your men have killed before, because they’ll probably have to kill now. There can’t be any hesitation on their part—”