Ball and Chain by J. R. Roberts Page A

we came to the right spot.”
    â€œIt’s him, all right. Didn’t you hear that fat man shouting his name?”
    â€œI never caught the name.”
    â€œIt’s Clint Adams,” Acklund snarled as though the last two words were vulgarities. “That’s the man that the barber hired to carry that package and that’s the one that killed Dave. I’m looking at him right now.”
    Mose gripped the table with both hands. His knuckles whitened as if he intended on breaking the table apart, but he refrained from turning toward the bar again. “When are we gonna go after him? After he sets foot outside this place?”
    â€œWe need to be sure before we do a damn thing,” Acklund said. “He nearly killed the three of us when he was alone.”
    â€œSo we just let him get away with killin’ Dave?”
    As Mose started to raise his voice, Acklund bared his teeth like one wolf putting another member of its pack into its place. Mose quieted down, but didn’t look happy about it.
    â€œWe didn’t come into this saloon looking for a fight,” Acklund explained. “My hip’s still bleeding and you’ve had too much to drink.”
    â€œI can hold my liquor, goddammit,” Mose slurred.
    â€œWe want to kill that murderer, not give him a free shot at one or both of us. We can take him out whenever we like. We got the upper hand.”
    â€œHow do you figure?”
    â€œHe doesn’t know we’re here.”
    Mose furrowed his brow and shifted toward the bar. He caught himself before being reprimanded and lowered his head once more. “He’s right there. We can take him.”
    â€œAll he needs is one man to get him to look our way before we get there. Hell, that barkeep’s been watching us since we got here and they know we’re heeled. If we play this right, we can wait for the perfect spot and pick him off whenever we please.”
    â€œWe may not get a better chance than this,” Mose growled.
    â€œWe weren’t even expecting to find him yet. We just came here for a drink before picking up his tracks again, remember?”
    Reluctantly, Mose nodded.
    â€œThen keep your head down and your mouth shut. If we catch his eye too soon, we’ll have to fight him and God knows how many of his friends. We’ll get our chance and when we do, we’ll see to it that son of a bitch gets what he’s got comin’ for killing our little brother.”
    Mose smiled. It wasn’t a pretty sight.

THIRTEEN
    All things considered, Clint was lucky to have run into the telegraph operator when he did. The big fellow may have been a little loud, but he was friendly and true to his word. He ordered several beers for both of them over the next hour or so and refused to let Clint pay for a single one. Just when Clint was beginning to feel the effect of the beer, the telegraph operator needed to lean on the bar to keep from falling over.
    â€œI think you’ve had enough, Ben,” the barkeep said.
    The big man slapped the bar and replied, “The hell I have. Did I mention that this man here—”
    â€œYou mentioned it, once or twice by now,” Clint said before Ben could go off into another round of his stories. Even though the tales were overblown in Clint’s favor, there was only so much he could take. Judging by the grateful looks on the faces around him, Clint wasn’t the only one who’d tired of those somewhat exaggerated accounts.
    â€œYeah, well I jus’ wanted to thank you on behalf of my uncle.”
    â€œI thought Zeke was your cousin.”
    â€œHe is,” Ben replied. “What did I say he was?”
    â€œWhy don’t you tell him all about it?” Clint said as he nodded toward the barkeep. “I’ve got an appointment for dinner.”
    The barkeep’s eyes widened and he started to shake his head as Ben leaned in his direction. As soon as the big telegraph