War Of The Mountain Man

Smoke shrugged his heavy shoulders. “You’ve noticed the cleanup around the town, the new water barrels.” It was not put as a question. “You’ve seen where we’ve fixed up our pumper. And you’ve seen how the people are all armed and willing to stand shoulder to shoulder to fight you and Red Malone. Don’t you feel it in your guts, Max? Can’t you see you’re not going to win this one?”

Max felt it, all right. He’d been sensing it for several days. riding into Barlow had been depressing. The town was clean and neat, with swept boardwalks and washed windows and shrubs and flowers planted around the homes. Not like Hell’s Creek, where litter was ankle-deep in some spots and the gunhands lived in shacks and tents and squalor. The stench of unwashed bodies was something one grew accustomed to in Hell’s Creek. The people here took pride in their town. Here, in Barlow, there was a better class of people and good water.

Of course, that’s all Hell needed.

Max’s eyes flickered to the lush little body of Tessie, doing a reel with that pig-farmer’s boy, Elias. His blood grew hot with perversion.

The quick glance did not escape the eyes of Smoke, who filed it away.

“I’ll go down with my town,” Max said, his voice husky with sudden desire. “If indeed we are to go down at all. And that certainly remains to be seen.”

“Men like you never learn, Max. Civilization is fast spreading throughout the West. The people aren’t going to tolerate men like us much longer.”

“Us?” The statement confused Max. “Us!”

“Sure, Max. Us. I’m tolerated because I’m bringing a change to this town. When you and Red are either dead or run out of the territory, the people won’t want me around. I’m a gunfighter, Max. The smell of gunsmoke lingers around me like some sort of invisible shroud. Just like the smell of perversion lingers around you.”

Max’s head jerked up. “What the hell do you mean by that, Jensen? Perversion?”

“You touch that Feckles girl and I’ll kill you, Max. I’ll ride right into Hell’s Creek and shoot you. As God is my witness, I’ll do it.”

“She’s a woman, Jensen. She might be a child in mind, but she’s got the body of a woman.” Max knew he ought to shut his big mouth, but arrogance worked his tongue.

“You’re pure crud, Max. I know that you lusted after both Victoria and Lisa. Tell you what, Max. I’m going to start sending out wires to a lot of law enforcement offices; I’m going to blanket your back trail and see what I can come up with. And I’m going to start with telegrams concerning child molestation and rape over ... say, the past ten years or so. How does that grab you, partner?”

Max was thinking hard. He’d left a trail behind him, for sure.

If Jensen started digging, he’d soon put two and two together and Max would be forced to run. No question about that.

Max forced a laugh. “You do that, Jensen. My back trail is clean.”

“We’ll soon know,” Smoke spoke the words softly. “It’ll take me about a week to find out.”

Max could scarcely control his wildly raging temper. He stared at Smoke for a moment and then spun on his boot heels, hollering for his men to get their gear and mount up. They were leaving.

“What’s with Big Max?” Joe Walsh asked, walking up.

“I touched a festering boil,” Smoke told him. “And it’s just about ready to explode.”

14

Over coffee the next morning in his office, Smoke told Jim and Sal and Judge Garrison what had brought on Max Huggins’s sudden departure the night before.

“Let me start canvasing various law enforcement agencies, Smoke,” Judge Garrison said. “I have many more contacts than you. I should have something within a week, probably in less time than that.”

“Good, Judge. Get right on it, will you?”

“Immediately.” The judge left the room and walked over to the telegraph office. He would be very busy for the next several days. Judge Garrison did not set a bond for Melvin Malone. He said the attempted murder charge meant he did not have to set a bond. Melvin would stay in jail.

“You’re dead, Jensen,” Melvin hollered from his cell. He rattled the barred door. “You’re a dead man walking around and you’re just too stupid to know that.”

“Shut up, boy,” Smoke called. “You’re only making things more difficult for yourself.”

“Son of a bitch!” Melvin yelled. “That’s you, Jensen. Low-life, no-good ...”

Smoke tuned him out.

“You know Red is gonna try to bust him out,” Sal said.

“Sure. Once he hears no bond was set, he’ll try force. Maybe as soon as tonight.”

“You want us to set up cots and sleep here?” Jim asked.

“No.” Smoke’s reply was quick. “Red, so I’m told, likes to use dynamite. That’s how he drove all those small farmers out that were settling around his holdings. He might decide to use explosives here. Too risky for us to sleep in.”

“Hell, Smoke!” Sal said. “He uses dynamite, he might blow up Melvin tryin’ to get him out.”