everybody who knew Harry Meadows at all knew he would not do it until the time was right. To really get Burke you had to take his coach away from him, and then kill him.
It was dusk when Matt Coburn rode into Confusion. He did not ride through the town, but came in over the ridge and went first to Newton Clyde's office. Fife was there, as well as Felton.
Sturd." Coburn held out his hand to the newspaper publisher. "Nobody's killed you yet, I see."
"Nor you." Fife handed him a copy of the sheet announcing the stage run. "I gave you some good billing. Right at the top of the sheet."
"Thanks," Matt said dryly. didn't need that'
"It was my idea," Clyde said. "I figured it might scare off the small fry."
"It won't scare Meadows, and he knows. He had the word before noon today.'
They looked at each other. "How could that be?" Felton asked. The paper wasn't on the street until nearly two this afternoon."
"He knows." Coburn explained about the rider he had seen, and his own reasoning." Joss ?" Clyde was incredulous. "You mean he's gone back?"
"I called no names, nor will I." Coburn was emphatic. "I have no idea who was at the Rafter last night, or who rode out of there this morning. I only know that Meadows knows, if he wants to do something about it."
"Do you think he will? Isn't he afraid of your Coburn smiled without humor. "He's not afraid of me, or of anybody, but Harry Meadows is a careful man. I don't think he will buck the odds. There will be other gold shipments. Sure, he wants Dandy's scalp, and he wants fifty thousand dollars, but there will be other times when Dandy is less ready and when I am not riding shotgun."
"How about the marshal's job?" Clyde asked.
"No. I'll take your shipment to Carson, and that's the end of it. I'm going to buy some cattle and start my own outfit."
Newton Clyde had taken space in a building put up by Gage, using it for both office and living quarters, and he suggested now, "I have a spare cot, Matt, if you want to bed down there. I'd feel safer. The gold is on the premises."
"All right," Matt said.
When he left the meeting Matt walked out into the street. Removing his hat, he wiped the hatband, thinking as he did so that all these towns sounded alike, and they were alike. He knew what was happening down there now, knew what would happen in the hours to come. Even the faces were the same, although some of the names had changed; the cast was an old one, and familiar to him. He had been a part of that cast too many times; he had walked just such streets as these, sometimes as the law, sometimes as a drifter.
He was a different man now, less patient than he had been, and that was a danger both to himself and to others. Once such towns had been a challenge. He had come into them to bring law and order, but too many of them had only imagined that was what they wanted, and all too often he had discovered that even those who hired him became his enemies. They wanted the money that would be spent, without the turbulence that came with it. The buffalo hunters, the cattle drivers, the prospectors, and the miners were free spenders, but they accompanied their spending with the release of exuberant spirits that started with shouts and raucous laughter and too much whiskey, and often ended in gunfire.
Fife came out to stand beside him. For a minute or two neither man spoke, and then it was Fife who said, "She's a doozer, Matt, she's a rip-snortin' doozer! There's eight to ten ready killers down there, and twice that many murderers, and on top of that there's the lads who like it rough. You'll find a lot of old friends down there." "Not many, Sturd. A man in my line of work doesn't have too many friends."
"You should have friends. You've made a dozen towns decent to live in."
"But not for their kind. They like them rough, Sturd. I used to think I did."
The stars were out. Up at Discovery there were lights. Felton and his partners were working a night shift. The Treasure Vault was also
It was dusk when Matt Coburn rode into Confusion. He did not ride through the town, but came in over the ridge and went first to Newton Clyde's office. Fife was there, as well as Felton.
Sturd." Coburn held out his hand to the newspaper publisher. "Nobody's killed you yet, I see."
"Nor you." Fife handed him a copy of the sheet announcing the stage run. "I gave you some good billing. Right at the top of the sheet."
"Thanks," Matt said dryly. didn't need that'
"It was my idea," Clyde said. "I figured it might scare off the small fry."
"It won't scare Meadows, and he knows. He had the word before noon today.'
They looked at each other. "How could that be?" Felton asked. The paper wasn't on the street until nearly two this afternoon."
"He knows." Coburn explained about the rider he had seen, and his own reasoning." Joss ?" Clyde was incredulous. "You mean he's gone back?"
"I called no names, nor will I." Coburn was emphatic. "I have no idea who was at the Rafter last night, or who rode out of there this morning. I only know that Meadows knows, if he wants to do something about it."
"Do you think he will? Isn't he afraid of your Coburn smiled without humor. "He's not afraid of me, or of anybody, but Harry Meadows is a careful man. I don't think he will buck the odds. There will be other gold shipments. Sure, he wants Dandy's scalp, and he wants fifty thousand dollars, but there will be other times when Dandy is less ready and when I am not riding shotgun."
"How about the marshal's job?" Clyde asked.
"No. I'll take your shipment to Carson, and that's the end of it. I'm going to buy some cattle and start my own outfit."
Newton Clyde had taken space in a building put up by Gage, using it for both office and living quarters, and he suggested now, "I have a spare cot, Matt, if you want to bed down there. I'd feel safer. The gold is on the premises."
"All right," Matt said.
When he left the meeting Matt walked out into the street. Removing his hat, he wiped the hatband, thinking as he did so that all these towns sounded alike, and they were alike. He knew what was happening down there now, knew what would happen in the hours to come. Even the faces were the same, although some of the names had changed; the cast was an old one, and familiar to him. He had been a part of that cast too many times; he had walked just such streets as these, sometimes as the law, sometimes as a drifter.
He was a different man now, less patient than he had been, and that was a danger both to himself and to others. Once such towns had been a challenge. He had come into them to bring law and order, but too many of them had only imagined that was what they wanted, and all too often he had discovered that even those who hired him became his enemies. They wanted the money that would be spent, without the turbulence that came with it. The buffalo hunters, the cattle drivers, the prospectors, and the miners were free spenders, but they accompanied their spending with the release of exuberant spirits that started with shouts and raucous laughter and too much whiskey, and often ended in gunfire.
Fife came out to stand beside him. For a minute or two neither man spoke, and then it was Fife who said, "She's a doozer, Matt, she's a rip-snortin' doozer! There's eight to ten ready killers down there, and twice that many murderers, and on top of that there's the lads who like it rough. You'll find a lot of old friends down there." "Not many, Sturd. A man in my line of work doesn't have too many friends."
"You should have friends. You've made a dozen towns decent to live in."
"But not for their kind. They like them rough, Sturd. I used to think I did."
The stars were out. Up at Discovery there were lights. Felton and his partners were working a night shift. The Treasure Vault was also
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