Authors: Robert J. Randisi
Jubal looked down at his left arm. The shirt had been torn by the bullet, and his flesh inside creased. Whatever bleeding
it had done had long dried.
“Are you all right, Jube?” Sam asked.
“I’m fine,” Jubal said. “Don’t make a fuss.”
“Are you all okay?” Serena asked. “It sounded like a war.”
“It wasn’t a war,” Sam said, “just a battle.”
“And we won it,” Jubal was quick to point out. “Seven men were waiting to bushwack Sam when he came out of the telegraph office.”
“Seven?” That someone would think it would take so many men to do it seemed to shock Serena. It was as if she was just beginning
to believe the stories she had heard about Sam McCall.
“Don’t worry,” Jubal said. “We got them all. In fact, I think if we hadn’t come along Sam would have gotten them all anyway.
They were amateurs, weren’t they, Sam?”
Sam seemed deep in thought and appeared not to have heard a word Jubal said.
“Be still, Jubal,” Evan said. “If we hadn’t gotten there Sam would be dead.”
“He coulda taken them all, I tell ya,” Jubal said. “Couldn’t you, Sam?”
“You’re right about one thing, Jubal,” Sam said.
“What’s that?”
“They
were
amateurs, or we’d all be dead.”
“What are you getting at?” Evan asked. “You don’t think they were sent by Burkett?”
“I don’t know,” Sam said. “The sheriff was right about that. Just because they were Burkett’s men doesn’t meanhe sent them.
I think if Burkett wanted me dead he would have sent a hired gun.”
“You mean, someone like Coffin?” Evan asked.
“Coffin?” Jubal said. “Who’s Coffin?”
“A gun for hire,” Evan said.
“And he’s here?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Serena asked.
“We just found out today.”
“So if Burkett hired Coffin,” Evan said, “why would he send seven of his hands after you?”
“That’s what I’m thinkin’.”
“Look,” Serena said, “you boys haven’t eaten since breakfast—”
“We didn’t have breakfast,” Jubal said. “You know what? I just realized how hungry I am.”
“I have to make dinner for Papa,” she said. “Come back to the house and I’ll cook for all of you.”
“Sounds good to me,” Jubal said.
“I’d like to go to the hotel and clean up first,” Sam said.
“So would I,” Evan said.
“Evan, you can clean up at Dude’s house,” Sam said.
“Why don’t you go back there with Serena?”
“All right. Jube, why don’t you go with your big brother and keep him out of trouble?”
“I’ll do my best,” Jubal said, “but you know what the sheriff said.”
“What did the sheriff say?” Serena asked.
Evan patted her on the shoulder and said, “I’ll tell you when we get back to the house.”
Sheriff Kelly hated to be the one to tell Lincoln Burkett about his men, but since all of his men were dead, there was no
one else. As soon as the McCall brothers left his office he went to the livery for his horse and rode out there. He was met
at the front of the house by the foreman, Chuck Conners.
Conners had been expecting his men back from town with news about Sam McCall. When he saw Sheriff Kelly riding hell bent for
leather through the gate and toward the house, he had a bad feeling.
“What can I do for you, Sheriff? Second visit today,” Conners said.
“I’m afraid I have bad news, Mr. Conners,” Kelly said. He saw his chance to avoid talking to Burkett himself.
“What kind of bad news?”
“Well, it seems that some of your men got into a shootout with Sam McCall.”
“Is that right? Kill him, did they? Are they in your jail?”
“Uh, no sir, they’re at the undertaker’s.”
“All of them?” Conners asked. “McCall killed all of them?”
“Well, he had some help from his brothers.”
“Damn.”
“I know, it’s a terrible shame,” Kelly said. “I don’t know what got into those men, but Sam McCall is the kind of man who—”
“I’ll tell Mr. Burkett about this, Sheriff,” Conners said, interrupting him.
“Would you? I’d really appreciate—”
“Tell me something, Sheriff.”
“What?”
“How did you find out about this?”
“I, uh, heard the shooting—”
“I thought you were supposed to be watching the McCalls.”
“Uh, yeah, well, there
is
three of them, and I was watchin’ one of the others, see—”
“All right, forget it,” Conners said. “You can go back to town.”
“Will you, uh, arrange for burial for your men?”
“I’m sure Mr. Burkett will want to take care of it,” Conners said.
“Uh, Mr. Conners, you wouldn’t know why your men went after Sam McCall, would you?”
“No, I wouldn’t,” Conners said, “and neither would Mr. Burkett. Like you said, Sam McCall does bring that out in some men.”
“Yeah, that he does,” Kelly said. “Well, I’ll be gettin’ back.”
“Sure.”
Conners watched Kelly ride back toward town, then took a few moments to formulate his story before he went in to see Burkett.
Lincoln Burkett listened carefully to Chuck Conners’ news about the men who had been killed by Sam McCall.
“How many did we lose?” he asked when Conners stopped talking.
“Seven, sir.”
“Who?”
“Gear, Murray, Tobin, Gary, three others. I’ll have to find out who they all were.”
Burkett slammed his hand down on the top of his desk.
“What the hell did they think they were doing?”
“I don’t know, sir. I guess they just saw Sam McCall, knew his reputation—”
“I don’t want this repeated, Conners,” Burkett said. “I want you to tell all the other men they are to stay away from Sam
McCall and his brothers unless they are told otherwise. Understand?”
“I understand, sir.”
“Son-of-a-bitch!” Burkett said. “Dude Miller and his cronies are going to jump on this with both feet. Did you tell the sheriff
we knew nothing about it?”
“I did.”
Burkett sat behind his desk quietly for a moment, then said, “Chuck, I want the editor of the newspaper out here.”
Vengeance Creek’s newspaper, the
Eagle,
was a four-page publication that appeared three times a week.
“The editor of the
Eagle?
Why is that?”
“I want him to interview me about this attempt on Sam McCall’s life. I want to make it clear in the newspaper that I knew
nothing about it. Get him for me.”
“It’ll be dark in half an hour—”
“All right, then, tomorrow, first thing, get him here.”
“I’ll send someone—”
“No, don’t send someone. Get him here yourself.”
“All right, Mr. Burkett,” Conners said.
“Now get out. I’ve got to think about what I’m going to say.”
“Yes, sir.”
Conners left the office, closed the door behind him, and breathed a sigh of relief. From now on he’d leave thethinking to
Burkett and did what he did best’take orders.
It was good for a man to find his niche in life.
On the way back to the hotel Sam and Jubal passed the saloon.
“How about a drink before we go to the hotel?” Sam asked.
“Sure, I could use one.”
“You do drink, don’t you?”
“Sam,” Jubal said, “I’m twenty-four, remember. I’m not a kid.”
“Oh, yeah, I keep forgettin’.”
They went into the saloon, which was doing a brisk business as darkness fell. More than a few men knew who Sam was and stared
at him. Already word of the shootout had spread, and the stories had conveniently left out the fact that Evan and Jubal McCall
were also involved. That was the way legends grew.
They went to the bar, and Sam ordered two beers. In the mirror he could see Coffin sitting at a back table by himself, nursing
a beer.
“Make that three,” he told the bartender.
“Who’s the third one for?” Jubal asked.
“A new acquaintance.”
“Who?”
As the bartender laid the beers in front of them Sam picked up two of them and said, “Wait here and watch my back, all right?”
“All right, Sam, but—”
“Just stay here.”
Sam turned and walked with two beers to Coffin’s table.
“Need a fresh one?”
Coffin looked up at him for a moment, then shrugged and said, “Why not?”
Sam laid the fresh beer down in front of Coffin, and then pulled out the chair across from him and sat down.
“I didn’t know the price for the beer would be your company.”
“Let’s cut the shit, Coffin,” Sam said. “I don’t know why, and I don’t know where, but I do know you were out on that street
today, and you backshot two of those men.”
“What men are you talking about, McCall?”
“The beer is my way of sayin’ thanks,” Sam went on, “but I have a feeling that you weren’t helpin’ me out of the goodness
of your heart. What was in it for you, Coffin?”
“I suppose you’re talking about this already famous telegraph office shootout where you outshot seven men and killed them
all?”
“You know as well as I do how reputations are built, Coffin.”
Coffin smiled tightly and said, “Yeah, I know, Sam.”
“Are you workin’ for Burkett?”
“Burkett who?”
“All right,” Sam said, “you had your reasons for what you did. If you
are
workin’ for Burkett, then maybe you and I will meet, maybe that’s why you helped me out there today, I don’t know. What I
do know is that I have enough to do without having to worry about you.”
“You don’t have to worry about me, Sam,” Coffin said.
“If I come for you, for whatever reason, you know I’ll come straight at you.”
“That’s what I figured,” Sam said. “I just wanted to hear you say it. Enjoy the beer.”
“Thanks,” Coffin said, raising the mug to Sam, “I will.”
Sam walked back to the bar and stood next to Jubal.
“Is that Coffin?”
“That’s him.”
“What was that all about?”
Sam sipped his beer and said, “Just establishing the rules, that’s all.”
“Rules?”
“Yeah,” Sam said, “remember that, Jube. Every game has rules, you just have to establish them.”
“I’ll remember.”
“And,” he added, “remember that there’s always somebody around to break them.”
“Coffin?”
“No, Coffin’s a pro and will go by the rules,” Sam said.
“It’s usually the goddamned amateurs who muck everythin’ up.”
“Like today?”
“Exactly like today.”
At Dude Miller’s house Evan was watching Serena prepare dinner. Actually, he was helping her.
“I’m not used to doing this,” he said, trying desperately to peel potatoes.
“You’re doing fine.”
She was cutting several chickens into pieces and when she finished that she sat down and helped him peel the potatoes.
“I’m not used to cooking for so many men,” she said.
“We all eat the same way.”
“But not the same amount.”
She fell silent and looked pensive, so he left her alone with her thoughts. Eventually she would speak her mind.
“Tell me about Sam,” she finally said.
“I’m here and you want to talk about Sam?” he asked.
“You really know how to flatter a guy.”
“I’m just interested.”
“All right,” he said, “What do you want to know about him?”
“His reputation.”
“Serena,” Evan said, “you’re going to have to be more specific.”
“Is he really a killer?” she blurted.
He stared at her for a few moments, then said, “We all killed someone today, Sam, Jube, and me.”
“You know what I mean,” she said. “Is his reputation so…so fearsome that seven men—
seven men
—had to try and kill him today?”
“There isn’t one of those men who would have had the courage to face him alone,” Evan explained. “That’s their problem, Serena.”
“But his reputation—”
“A reputation is like gossip,” he said. “It starts at one end of town and by the time it gets to the other end it’s grown
into something entirely different.”
“Is that true of Sam?”
“Look,” Evan said, “I’ve seen Sam maybe three or four times in the last I don’t know how many years. I know as much about
him as you do, because I’ve read and heard the same stories.”
“But you’re his brother,” Serena said. “You know him’the real him.”
“The real Sam McCall is what you see; Serena. Judge him on that, not on anything else.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“Satisfied?”
She smiled and said, “Yes.”
“Good,” he said, smiling, “now maybe we can talk about me.”
Dude Miller insisted on coming downstairs to dinner and was assisted by Evan and Jubal. Serena had also invited Ed Collins
to come by and eat with them.
“I heard what happened today,” Collins said.
“Who could help but hear?” Miller said. “It sounded like a war.”
“So what do you boys plan to do now?” Collins asked over dinner.
The McCalls exchanged glances and in that moment silently chose Evan as the spokesman.
“We plan on finding out who killed our parents.”
“You don’t believe that your father did it himself?”
“No,” Evan said.
“You boys hadn’t seen your father in a long time,” Miller said. He seemed intent on playing the devil’s advocate.
“That don’t matter,” Jubal said. He couldn’t restrain himself. “Pa wouldn’ta done that.”
“I agree,” Dude Miller said.
“Well, so do I,” Collins said. “How do you plan to go about it?”
“We don’t rightly know that, Mr. Collins,” Evan said.
“Please, call me Ed. Anybody who’s planning on making a move on Lincoln Burkett is a friend of mine.”
“We didn’t say we were moving on Burkett.”
“You don’t have to,” Collins said. “Anything dirty that’s happening in this town, Lincoln Burkett is behind it, take my word
for it.”
“You fellas haven’t been able to convince the Town Council of that, have you?” Sam asked.
“Not a chance,” Miller said. “They’re blinded by what they think Burkett can do for this town.”
“They don’t realize what he’s going to do
to
it,” Collins said.
“And what’s that?” Evan asked.
Collins sat forward and momentarily forgot about Serena’s delicious chicken and potatoes dinner.
“He wants to put this town right under his thumb,” he said, his face reddening, “and once he’s done that he’ll sethimself
to grinding it under his heel. Before long, he’ll want to change the name of the town.”
“Well,” Jubal said, “hopefully not until we’ve made it live up to its old name.”
“Well,” Collins said, “take my advice and concentrate your efforts on Lincoln Burkett.”
Later, in his hotel room, Evan wished that Collins was basing his opinion on more than just a personal dislike for the man.
Still, he tended to agree with the man, moreso because of the attempt on Sam’s life. Even if Burkett hadn’t sent them after
Sam, Burkett’s men must have thought they’d be doing their boss some good by killing him, and since Sam and Jube and Evan
himself were only in Vengeance Creek to look for their parents’ killer, there had to be a connection.
The presence of Coffin only underscored Burkett’s involvement in his parents’ death. If Burkett had nothing to do with it,
there wouldn’t be any reason for him to worry, and there wouldn’t be any reason for him to import a professional gun. He certainly
didn’t need Coffin to strengthen his hold on the town. His only obstacles were Miller and Collins, and he’d already demonstrated
that he had the right kind of men to handle them.
He decided to go to sleep. All the thinking was giving him a headache. What he had to do tomorrow was find himself a poker
game. He was always able to think clearest with a deck of cards in his hand.
In his room Sam was also thinking about Burkett’s possible involvement in the death of his parents. What he couldn’t figure
out was why Burkett would need to kill his parents after he’d already taken their ranch from them. What possible harm could
they have done him then?
Sam knew that Evan had already talked to Burkett but figured maybe he should take a ride out there himself tomorrow and pay
his respects.
In his room Jubal McCall was just plain restless. He thought their best bet to settle this was just to ride out to Burkett’s’to
his
parents’
ranch—and kill the man.
He knew his brothers would never agree to that, but maybe he ought to surprise them and just go and do it himself.
Serena Miller couldn’t sleep. Something had happened that she had never expected. With the arrival of the McCall brothers
she found herself attracted to two of them. Actually, she was attracted to Evan, but she was intrigued by Sam. After the attempt
on his life today there was an aura of danger about him. She still could not believe that someone thought it would take seven
men to kill him. How could one man command that much respect—or that much fear?
She wished she knew him better, but she doubted that there would be enough time.