Way with a Gun (15 page)

“I figured he was, or you wouldn't be here. He on his way over?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Then get out. You're not of any use to me anymore. And tell the sheriff the same. I have no use for either of you.”

“Then . . . you'll leave us alone?”

“I want both of you to leave town.”

“W-what?”

“After I kill Adams,” Barlow said, “I'm gonna come for both of you.”

“B-but . . . why?” The telegraph operator was aghast.

“Because you're both weak,” Barlow said. “After I kill Adams, this town is gonna be mine, and I have no use for weak men. So get out.”

“Mr. Barlow, that ain't fai—”

“Out!”

And as Terry Benson ran for the back door, Barlow called out, “And tell the sheriff to leave his badge on his desk. It's mine now too.”

Jesus, the bartender thought, the town would never be rid of him unless the Gunsmith could kill him. He touched the shotgun that was beneath the bar, but he didn't produce it. He hadn't done it up to now, and he still couldn't do it.

“Bartender!” Barlow called.

“Yes, sir?”

“Bring two cold beers.”

“Comin' up.”

“And then get out,” Barlow said. “I want the place empty.”

“Yes, sir.”

The bartender brought the beers over.

“And get out of town,” Barlow added. “This place is mine now.”

The man thought about arguing, but what was the point? If Barlow managed to kill Clint Adams, there'd be no stopping him. The first thing he'd do was hang those signs he'd had them paint over at the hardware store, the ones he'd use to rename the town Barlow, Arizona.

After that, he would be right.

The whole shebang would be his.

As Clint walked to the Five Aces Saloon, he noticed that the streets were emptying out. It was as he figured. The sheriff, the telegraph operator, or both had tipped Barlow off that he was coming. Word had gotten out onto the street already.

The only question that remained now was whether or not Tell Barlow would have help, or would face him alone.

When Clint entered the saloon, he saw the man sitting there alone with two beers, one in front of him and one across the table from him. Clint walked over and sat in front of the second beer.

“You've gone to a lot of trouble to get me here, Barlow,” he said.

“Not really,” Tell said. “Other people have gone to the trouble. All it's cost me is time.”

Clint picked up the beer and drank it. It was still cold. He thought about asking if the sheriff or clerk had tipped Barlow off that he was in town, but decided it didn't matter.

“So, now that I'm here, what do we do?” Clint asked.

“I've got lots of big plans for this town,” Tell said. “But first I have to kill you.”

“Why?”

“Because then I'll have the rep,” the other man said. “I'll rename the town after myself, sit back, and wait for fame and fortune.”

“And the people in town will just stand for that?”

“For the most part I won't bother them. I'll get rid of the troubling ones.”

“Like an over-the-hill sheriff and a scared telegraph clerk?”

“Exactly. Even this place will be mine. I'll own the town.”

“And that all starts with killing me?”

“Exactly,” Tell said. “Plus I made a few extra dollars from the bet.”

“What bet?”

“Corbett, Yates, and I had a bet to see who could kill you.”

“And you collected already?”

“As the only one alive, I had that right.”

“So you could have walked away with the money.”

“Why, Mr. Adams,” Barlow said, “that wouldn't have been honest.”

Clint drank half the beer and said, “Let's get to it. In here? Or on the street where people can see?”

“I think if I walk out of here alive, that'll be proof enough.”

Both men stood up, didn't even move away from the table. Clint waited, watched his opponent.

“Don't you want to know anything about me?” Barlow asked. “How many men I've killed?”

“It doesn't matter,” Clint said. “If you kill me, you kill me. If I kill you, my reputation won't be enhanced at all. I've got nothing to gain, or lose. I just want to get it over with.”

“Should we count—”

“Just do it!” Clint snapped.

Barlow sprang into action, drew his gun smoothly, and brought it up quickly. He probably would have killed any other man he faced . . . except for one or two—and the Gunsmith.

Watch for
TO REAP AND TO SOW
311
^th
novel in the exciting GUNSMITH series
from Jove
Coming in November!