The .32-caliber revolver would be easier for Lissa Sugarman or Marietta to handle than that big Navy Colt. He tucked the gun into his belt, at the small of his back. He returned to the lobby and was about to leave when Sheriff Brown came walking in. “Just the man I’ve been lookin’ for,” Brown sai...
He was rocking back and forth on the rear legs, chewing on a toothpick. “You finished with your whore?” Dirker asked as Sobel approached. “Yup,” Sobel said. “I’m ready to go on the drive.” There was no other chair, so he sat down on the edge of the board-walk. “What’ve you been doin’?” “Nothin’,”...
He did not encounter any uniformed lawmen along the way, which was good because he would have had to kill them and that would have raised an alarm. As he entered the livery with his saddlebags over his shoulder, the old liveryman turned and stared at him in surprise. “I need my horse,” Tarver sai...
“Tastes like your trail coffee,” she complained, shaking her head. “I make the best trail coffee of anybody I ever rode with,” he said. “Must be why you ride alone so much.” Clint enjoyed the stew because he was hungry. Alice consumed some of the vegetables, but picked at the meat until Clint ask...
Apparently, a colleague of Fred Dodge’s in Wells Fargo, the famous lawman J. B. Hume—who Clint also knew—had been instrumental in letting Sheriff Jerome Ward know where the three men were holed up. Hume and a lawman named Tucker had taken in York Kelly, who had given up the names of the other two...