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“You got any other takers?”

“I ain’t even sure what I’m gonna do, Dave,” Clark said, “but I’ll keep this conversation in mind.”

“That’s all I ask.”

They rode the rest of the way in silence, each alone with his own thoughts.

An hour later Jeb sent Samms and Leslie on their way to Pearl River Junction. James, on roof duty at City Hall, saw Wilson and Roberts ride down the town’s main street. He’d spotted them farther out and had waved his white towel at Thomas, who was right across the street. Dan Shaye and Sheriff Cotton had also seen the signal from their vantage points, so as the first two robbers entered town, they were being well watched.

Shaye joined Cotton in front of his office as the two men rode by.

“Know them?” Cotton asked him.

“No, you?”

Cotton shook his head. “Never seen them before and neither one matches Belinda’s description of Jeb Collier.”

Shaye kept his eyes on the two men, who—if they were part of Jeb Collier’s gang—were well trained and kept their eyes forward.

“I could brace them, as strangers in town,” Cotton said. “Ask a few questions.”

“I suggest you wait and see who else rides in today,” Shaye said. “Could be they’ll ride in at one-or two-hour intervals. Of course, it could also be they’ll ride in on different days.”

“And,” Cotton said, “could also be these two men aren’t even connected to Collier.”

“If we have seven or eight strangers ride into town today,” Shaye said, “I’m going to have a hard time believing that’s a coincidence.”

“Lawmen,” Roberts said to Clark.

“I see ’em,” Clark said. “Keep your eyes straight ahead. We ain’t doin’ nothin’ but ridin’ into town. Let’s just find the livery stable and get the horses taken care of.”

“How about a drink first?” Roberts asked. “There’s a saloon right there.”

“Let’s do this the way we were told, Dave,” Clark said. “Besides, that saloon is right across the street from the sheriff’s office. Let’s just hope it ain’t the biggest one in town.”

“I just thought a cold beer would go down good right now.”

“It might,” Clark said, “but is this the way you’d carry out my orders if you were my segundo?”

Roberts had no answer for that.

“Besides which,” Clark added, “it’s too damn early and the saloons are still closed.”

From his vantage point James was looking down at the two men and could not see their faces. He could, however, see his father and the sheriff. When he looked that way, Dan Shaye shook his head, indicating that neither of these men was Jeb Collier.

While Clark and Roberts took care of their horses and secured hotel rooms, the sheriff and his deputies remained where they were. The only one who had not seen the men ride in was Thad, as he was making rounds at the south end of town. Unfortunately, that meant that he saw Wilson and Roberts ride into the livery and recognized them as strangers. Contrary to the orders he had received not to brace strangers, he decided to go into the livery and talk to them. He felt this was a way he could prove his worth as a deputy.

Wilson and Roberts had turned their horses over to the livery owner and were turning to leave when Thad Hagen entered the stable.

“Mornin’, gents.”

Both men stopped short at the sign of the badge, but then noticed the youth of its wearer.

They were not impressed.

“Your momma buy you that badge, boy?” Wilson asked.

“I’m a duly appointed deputy.”

“You?”

“I got some questions for you fellas.”

Wilson made a rude noise with his mouth and he and Roberts started past Thad.

“Step aside, Deputy.”

“Now hold on—” Thad said, grabbing Wilson’s arm. The man turned quickly into Thad and hit him solidly on the jaw. The deputy staggered back, but didn’t go down.

“Dave,” Wilson said, “the deputy wants some trouble.”

“Might as well give it to him,” Roberts said and the two outlaws waded in, swinging their fists.

57

When Bill Samms and Roy Leslie rode in, they were also watched by all four men—Dan Shaye, Thomas, James, and Sheriff Cotton.

“Where’s Thad?” Shaye asked Cotton as the two strangers rode by.

“I don’t know,” Cotton said. “Making rounds, I guess.”

“The boy would like to prove himself, wouldn’t he?” Shaye asked.

“I think so,” Cotton said, “even more because you and your boys are here, though. Not just to me.”

One of the riders turned his head and looked right at Shaye, then turned away.

“Neither of these men are Collier either,” Shaye said. “I think I’m going to go and look for Thad.”

“Why?” Cotton asked. “What are you worried about?”

“I’m just worried,” Shaye said. “A young man like that, eager to prove himself, will not necessarily follow orders.”

“All right,” Cotton said. “I’ll wait here. If you go to the south end of town, you might end up at the livery at the same time as these two riders who just came in.”

“I’ll do my best to stay out of trouble,” Shaye said.

It was the liveryman who found Thad first. He was bending over him when the other two strangers reached the stable.

“Hey there!” Samms shouted.

Charlie Styles, who owned the livery, looked up at the two men.

“Be with ya in a minute, gents,” he said. “Got me a unconscious deputy here.”

“That a fact?” Leslie asked. “How’d that happen?”

“Don’t rightly know,” Styles said. “You leavin’ your horses for the day?”

“Likely,” Samms said.

“This fella’s got him a few lumps, but he’s still breathin’,” Styles said. “Guess he won’t mind if I take care of business first.”

Styles left Thad in the stall where he was lying and went to take care of the two horses.

When Shaye reached the livery, the two strangers were just leaving.

“Deputy,” one of them said by way of greeting.

Shaye touched his hat and nodded.

“Looks like one of your partners found some trouble,” the other man said.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’ll see,” the man said and he and his partner kept walking, laughing together.

Shaye entered the livery and saw Charlie Styles leaning into one of the stalls.

“What’s going on?” her asked.

Styles looked up and said, “Busy day in here. Got one of your young fellers in here.”

Shaye walked over to the stall and saw Thad lying on the ground. His face was bruised and there was some blood coming from his nose. He’d obviously been beaten.

“Is he alive?”

“He’s breathin’,” Styles said.

“Get me a bucket of water.”

“Sure thing.”

As Styles went for the water, Shaye leaned over Thad, touching him, trying to determine if there were any other injuries that were not immediately evident, like a broken bone.

“Thad? Come on, boy.” He slapped the young deputy’s face. “Wake up, lad.”

“Here’s your water,” Styles said, appearing with a bucket.

“Dump it on him,” Shaye said. “Might be the only way to wake him up.”

“Should I get the doctor, then?”

“Dump it on him and then we’ll see.”

“Here ya go, lad,” Styles said and dumped the water on Thad, cackling all the while.

“Okay, old-timer,” Shaye said to Styles as Thad came sputtering to life, “that’ll do it.”

Style went away, taking his empty bucket with him, still laughing.

“Jesus—” Thad said. “What the—”