"I've seen those books from time to time, Frank," Jerry said with a smile.
"Don't start, Jer."
Jerry laughed at him and got to his boots. "Maybe this writer fellow could arrange for you to go back east on a tour. You could do some trick shootin' and twirl your guns. That ought to give the folks back there a real thrill."
Frank picked up an inkwell and moved as if to throw it at Jerry. Laughing, Jerry left the office. Luckily for Frank, the inkwell was empty.
Frank locked up the office and walked over to the Henson Office building. He walked in just in time to see and hear a well-dressed man really browbeating one of the office workers. Frank listened for as long as he could take it and then walked up and deliberately bumped into the man, almost knocking him down.
The man caught his balance and turned on Frank. "You damned clumsy oaf!" he raged.
"Back off, mister," Frank warned him, "before you step into something you can't scrape off." He looked at the employee who had been the brunt of the Eastern man's rage. "You go get a cup of coffee and relax, partner."
"You stay right where you are, Leon!" the dude told the employee. "Now you see here, Marshal!" the man said, turning to Frank. "I am Charles Dutton, Mrs. Browning's attorney. And I resent your interference in a company matter."
Frank smiled and pulled out his second pistol. "You ever fired a pistol, Leon?"
"Yes, sir. During the war. I was a sergeant in a New York regiment."
"Take this pistol."
Leon took the pistol and held it gingerly.
"Now you go get a six-gun," Frank told Dutton.
"I beg your pardon?" the lawyer questioned.
"You speak to this man like he's some sort of poor cowed dog, mister, and you expect him to take it without him biting back or even showing his teeth in a snarl. That ain't the way it works out here. Now you go get a six-gun and meet this man in the street out front."
"I will not! Are you insane?"
Vivian's entrance into the building probably prevented Frank from knocking the Boston lawyer on his butt. Frank could not take an employer berating an employee in public. It was something that set him off like a firecracker.
Leon handed Frank's short-barreled .45 back to him, and Frank tucked it behind his gunbelt and turned to greet Vivian. The look that she gave Dutton was a combination of ice and fire.
"This is your friend, Vivian?" Dutton asked, referring to Frank. "This ... bully with a badge?"
Vivian ignored that. When she spoke, it was to Leon. "What is the problem, Leon? Speak freely, please. Charles Dutton has no authority here."
"It, ah, concerned the weekly reports on the grade of silver being taken from mine number three, Mrs. Browning," Leon told her.
"The analysis of the purity of the silver?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Give the reports to Mr. Dutton, Leon."
Leon held out the laboratory reports.
Dutton looked at the papers without taking them. "What is the meaning of this, Vivian?"
"The lab is about one mile out of town, Charles," Vivian told him. "Anyone can point the way. Why don't you go up there and tell the engineer in charge that you are taking over, and will personally run the tests? Can you do that, Charles?"
"I am your attorney, Vivian, not a chemist or an engineer."
"Can you do it, Charles?" Viv persisted.
"No. I cannot, Vivian."
"Then why don't you shut up and tend to your business? Stay in your area of expertise, and stay out of areas in which you have no knowledge."
For a moment, Frank thought Charles was going to pop his cork. He turned red in the face, and his eyes bugged out. He struggled to speak and then, with a very visible effort, calmed down. "As you wish, madam," he said, very slowly. "However, I was only trying to help."
"And any constructive help you might offer is certainly welcome, Charles. But I personally do not believe in berating employees in private, much less publicly."
"I shall certainly bear that in mind."
"Thank you, Charles."
"If by chance you should need me this afternoon, I will be at the hotel."
"I thought the hotel was full," said Viv.
"Not the luxury suites at the end of the hall. They have private baths. I insisted upon that."
Frank rolled his eyes and looked heavenward.
Viv caught his eye movement and fought back a smile. "Of course you did, Charles."
"It's so primitive out here," Dutton complained. "I don't understand how you tolerate these barbaric conditions, Vivian." He plopped his hat on his head and walked toward the front door without another word.
"Nice fellow," Frank remarked.
Leon muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like 'He's a turdface!' _But surely not_, Frank thought.
"Frank," Vivian said. She had dropped the "Marshal Morgan" when addressing him. There was no point in any further pretense. The whole town knew they were seeing each other socially. "Could I see you in my office, please?"
Seated in Viv's office, Frank asked, "How's Conrad?"
"He's all right, but I insisted that he stay home today. I've just about convinced him that he should return east as soon as possible."
"I'm not sure about that now, Viv. As long as he stays here, there are plenty of us to keep an eye on him. Back there, he would have little if any protection."
Viv frowned, then slowly nodded her head in agreement. "You're right, Frank. I hadn't thought about that."
"Might be a good thing to keep him here until we get this situation straightened out and decide who's trying to kill us both. As if we didn't already know."
Before Viv could reply, they heard the sound of running boots in the outer offices. Jerry burst into the room. "Frank! Outlaws just hit the Lucky Seven. Got the payroll and killed the owner and his foreman."
Frank was on his boots instantly. "That's the mine about four miles from town, right?"
"That's it."
"Get a posse together. I'll get my horse and meet you at the office."
"Will do." Jerry left the office in a run.
"Be careful, Frank," Viv cautioned.
Frank winked at her. "Long as I got you to come back to, Viv."
"I'll be here."
--------
*Twenty*
Frank looked at the bodies of the mine owner and his foreman and shook his head in disgust. The men had been shot to ribbons, each one more than a dozen times. Their faces had been deliberately shot away. He ordered the bodies taken back to town in a wagon.
"Marshal," said one of the men in the posse. "Those robbers used them men for target practice. They made a game of it."
"I know," Frank replied. "They shot them in the knees, then the arms, then in the belly. They tortured them for the fun of it." Jerry walked up and Frank asked him, "How about the workers -- did any of them see anything?"
"One did," Jerry said. "The other three were in a secondary shaft of the mine ... looking for gold," he added. "It was part of the Pine and Vanbergen gangs. The man is sure of that."
"How can he be sure?"
"He knows a couple of them. Was in jail with them once. They broke out, or was broke out. One or the other. He done his time for drunk and fighting, and hasn't been in trouble since."