Falcon stopped and turned back to Cletus and Ray. “You have something to say to me?” he asked.
“Yeah, I have something to say to you,” Cletus replied. “Ray, this here is Falcon MacCallister, the fella I was tellin’ you about.”
“The one who gave you two black eyes?” Ray asked.
“Yeah,” Cletus said. Cletus forced another smile. “Only this time, he ain’t holdin’ a gun, he ain’t holdin’ a club, and he ain’t behind my back.”
“That’s right,” Falcon said. “I’m standing right here in front of you.”
“Well, you ain’t goin’ to be standing long,” Cletus shouted and, stepping forward, he threw a wide, arcing roundhouse right fist toward Falcon.
Falcon dodged the blow easily, then counterpunched with a straight left jab that landed at the point of Cletus’s nose that was right between his eyes.
“Oww!” Cletus shouted in pain, and he threw both his hands up to protect his nose.
“Heavens!” one woman said aloud.
“Oh, my!” another added as several were in position to witness the disturbance.
Falcon threw a second punch to the gut, and when Cletus bent over with an audible expulsion of breath, Falcon followed up with a right cross to the chin.
Cletus went down and out.
“Ray, get Cletus out of here,” Billy said.
“Yeah, I will,” Ray said.
Seeing Ray move toward Cletus, Falcon turned away.
“Falcon, look out!” Rachael shouted.
Almost on top of the warning, Falcon felt a blow to the side of his head. He saw stars, but even as he was being hit he was reacting to the warning, so though it didn’t prevent the attack, it did prevent him from being knocked down.
Instead of picking up his brother as he had said he would, Ray Clinton had swung at Falcon, trying to take him down with one, huge blow.
He’d almost succeeded, but when Ray swung at him a second time, Falcon was able to avoid him. With his fists up, Falcon danced quickly away from Ray in order to have room to maneuver.
“MacCallister,” Ray said with a low growl. “I think it’s about time you got your due.”
“Fight!” someone shouted. “They’s a fight!”
Almost instantly, the music stopped as the dancers and observers all crowded around Falcon and Ray.
“Ray, why don’t we take this outside?” Falcon suggested. “There’s no need to break up the dance.”
Ray smiled, an evil smile. “Hell, what do I care if we break up the dance?” he asked. “I ain’t got me no woman like my little brother here.”
“You don’t have a woman?” Falcon said.
“No.”
“Well, now, do you think it might just have something to do with your personality?”
Some in the crowd laughed nervously.
“Enough talk, you son of a bitch!” Ray said. “I’m going to whip your ass good.”
Ray swung wildly at Falcon, but Falcon slipped the punch easily, then counterpunched with a quick, slashing left to Ray’s face. It was a good, well-hit blow, but Ray just flinched once, then laughed a low, evil laugh.
“Five dollars says Ray whups him,” someone said.
“I don’t know. Falcon ain’t quite as big as Ray, but I hear tell he’s tough as rawhide. I’m going with Falcon.”
With an angry roar, Ray rushed Falcon again, and Falcon stepped aside, avoiding him like a matador sidestepping a charging bull. And like a charging bull, Ray slammed into a support post, smashing through it as if it were kindling. He turned and faced Falcon again.
“Damn, these two fellas could bring the building crashing down on us if they keep this up,” someone said.
A hush fell over the crowd now as they watched the two men. They were watching the fight with a great deal of interest. They knew it would be a test of quickness and ability against brute strength, and they wanted to see if Falcon could handle Ray. Falcon and Ray circled around for a moment, holding their fists in front of them, each trying to test the mettle of the other.
Ray swung, a clublike swing that Falcon leaned away from. Falcon counterpunched and again he scored well, but again, Ray laughed it off. As the fight went on, it developed that Falcon could hit Ray at will, and though Ray laughed off his early blows, it was soon obvious that there was a cumulative effect to Falcon’s punches. Both of Ray’s eyes began to puff up, and there was a nasty cut on his lip. Then Falcon caught Ray in the nose with a long left, and when he felt the nose go under his hand, he knew that he had broken it. The bridge of Ray’s nose exploded like a smashed tomato and started bleeding profusely. The blood ran across his teeth and chin.
Falcon looked for another chance at the nose, but Ray started protecting it. Falcon was unable to get at it again, though the fact that Ray was favoring it told Falcon that the nose was hurting him.
Except for the opening blow, Ray hadn’t connected. The big man was throwing great swinging blows toward Falcon, barely missing him on a couple of occasions, but as yet, none of them had connected.
After four or five such swinging blows, Falcon noticed that Ray was leaving a slight opening for a good right punch, if he could just slip it across his shoulder. He timed it, and on Ray’s next swing, Falcon threw a solid right, straight at the place where he thought Ray’s nose would be. He timed it perfectly and had the satisfaction of hearing a bellow of pain from Ray for the first time.
Ray was obviously growing more tired now, and he began charging more and swinging less. Falcon got set for one of his charges; then as Ray rushed by with his head down, Falcon stepped to one side. Like a matador thrusting his sword into the bull in a killing lunge, Falcon sent a powerful right jab to Ray’s jaw. Ray went down and out.
By now, Cletus had gotten back onto his feet, and he was glaring at Falcon.
“Get him out of here,” Falcon said, and Cletus and Billy grabbed hold of Ray’s unconscious form and dragged him away. As Ray was pulled away, the crowd began to disperse.
“Did you ever think anyone could handle Ray like that?” someone asked.
“Hell, look at Falcon. His hair ain’t even none messed up,” another said.
Falcon followed them outside, and saw Cletus and Billy put Ray belly-down across the saddle.
“Billy, you can come on back in,” Falcon told him.
Billy shook his head. “No, sir, I can’t,” he said. “These are my brothers. I’d better stay with them.” Then, leading Ray’s horse, Billy and Cletus rode away.
Inside, the music had yet to start up again.
“I’m sorry about that,” Falcon said, returning to Rachael Kirby.
Rachael was standing in front of the orchestra, talking to Edwin Mathias.
“Is that how all disputes are settled out here?” Edwin asked. “With an approach like that, it is no wonder this is called the ‘wild’ West.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice,” Falcon replied. “It was either stand there and fight, or get hit. I chose to fight.”
“And you like it out here, do you, my dear?” Edwin said to Rachael.
“Yes,” Rachael replied, “I do like it.”
“Maestro, more music!” someone called.
Edwin sighed. “If you will excuse me, I must jump through some hoops now.”
“Mr. Mathias seems to be a bitter man,” Falcon said.
“Edwin Mathias had a taste of glory once,” Rachael replied. “It is always difficult when one falls from glory.”
When the music started, Rachael smiled and offered Falcon her arm. Falcon joined her on the dance floor.
After the dance, Falcon escorted Rachael away from the dance floor. He had just said something funny and they were both laughing when they looked up to see the stern, staring, angry eyes of Wade Garrison confronting his daughter.
“Is it true that you took a walk with Billy Clinton?”
“Pa, it isn’t what you think,” Kathleen said.
“Oh? And tell me, daughter, just what am I thinking?” Garrison replied.
“That we did something wrong,” she answered.