As the gunsmoke began to clear it revealed the three dead men sprawled in the dirt of Front Street, thin ribbons of blood trickling into the slush of the gutter.
Adam Cole still remained in the half-crouch he had assumed when the gunfight had become inevitable.
‘Damn fools. They could still be alive. Jailbait, but breathing.’
No one was close enough to hear his muttered remark. He commenced to reload his Colt. The townsfolk began to appear from their hurried choices of cover when the bullets started to fly; they had huddled in doorways, behind awning posts and rainwater butts, under parked buckboards, some even lying prone in the street itself, having dropped there hurriedly at the first gunshot.
Dusting down their clothes, all of them stared at the lean sheriff as if they had never seen him before.
In a way they hadn’t; this man who had cut down three violent bank robbers in their tracks barely resembled the quiet-spoken, non-violent lawman the town council had hired a couple of months ago. He had been popular because he had good manners, raised, or at least touched his hat to the ladies in passing on, the street, settled many an argument by quiet counselling, or just once or twice with his fists. But those times had been few and far between, though once he took on three drunken trail rowdies passing through and ready to hooraw the town. They tried to blind-side him but all three needed attention from Doc Partridge before quitting town, with Cole riding shotgun out as far as the county line.
Folk had wondered about his gun: a used-looking Colt in oiled leather. No one had seen him even brush his hand against the butt and a few worriedly – and quietly – remarked that they wondered how he would react if he had to use it.
Now they knew.
The men he had taken on and who now lay dead in the town’s main street had been seasoned outlaws, ready and willing to shoot their way out of trouble. They had been led by Louisiana Dann, notorious for his gunplay and violence.
They came running out of the bank, clutching their booty – and stopped dead when they found the lone figure of the sheriff standing there, casually hipshot, hands hanging down at is sides.
‘Stop right there, boys, and you’ll see sunrise tomorrow.’
Startled, they had looked around for this lone lawman’s back-up – he surely would have five or six deputies planted somewhere…?
There was no sign of even one.
Good enough for Dann. Playing to the staring, nervous townsfolk, he spoke to Cole: ‘You’re the one ain’t gonna see the sunrise!’
People scattered before all the words were spoken and the guns came up blazing.
There was a brief volley of scattered shots and, later, several witnesses maintained that Cole only fired three times – and Louisiana Dann and his pards lay dead in the dust, the stolen moneybags crumpled under their bodies.
And now the dissipating gunsmoke revealed the whole scene and fast-talking townsfolk crowded around.
‘He got all three!’
‘Never seen him draw!’
‘They had him surrounded – the poor bastards!’
‘They never stood a chance!’
Cole was jostled, patted on the back, several men insisted on shaking his hand.
‘Someone get a door and take ’em down to the undertaker’s.’ Cole spoke tersely, obviously uncomfortable with all this attention. ‘And get that money back in the bank! Every damn cent!’
‘I’m taking care of that, Cole. My clerks will see it’s all collected.’
Linus Charlton, the town banker, looked sallow, face drawn, although his figure was corpulent enough and normally his face had a florid, pudden-look. He was trying to light a long thin cigar, his hands shaking, the match flame burning his fingers. Cole snapped a vesta on his thumbnail and held it for Charlton.
‘Easy, banker. It’s all over. Anyone hurt inside?’
‘Uh – two clerks, I think. Yes, Ernie Hall and Benton Ness. One female clerk fainted.’
‘They need a doctor?’
‘Ernie will. They split his scalp and knocked him cold.’ Just then Doctor Partridge appeared, hurrying up with satchel in hand, and the banker directed him inside. Then he looked back at Cole; the cigar seemed to have calmed him some but he had an almost angry look on his face.’By God, I – we never expected to see anything like this, Cole!’
‘What you hired me for.’
‘Yes – and thank God we did hire you. Just three shots and that gang is ready for Boot Hill! How come you never told us how good you were when the committee interviewed you?’
‘They asked if I was fast with a gun and I said I’d been fast enough so far.’ His deep voice held hardly any interest. He jerked his head at Charlton and walked to the law office on the opposite side of the street, the crowd opening out to let him pass.
He was seated at his desk, rolling a cigarette when the banker puffed in, half-smoked cigar down at his side. He dropped into a chair.
‘I think this calls for a drink.’
The sheriff fired up and swung the chair around, bending to open a drawer in the desk. He set a whiskey bottle and two shot glasses on the paper-cluttered top and poured two drinks, filling each glass to the brim.
The banker spilled a lot of his before tossing it down. Cole sipped about half, savouring the taste.
‘You seem a bit … put out, Cole. Look, don’t worry about Dann and his friends. They were scum. They’d killed a lot of people over the years. They’re better off dead.’
‘Would seem that way.’
Charlton frowned. ‘This … bother you? Hell, man, your reputation will sky-rocket! You’ll be known all over the county, maybe the whole damn state, as the fastest gun ever to come—’ He stopped abruptly at the look on Cole’s face. ‘Is that what’s bothering you? Word’ll get out about your gunspeed and….’
Cole savagely crushed out his barely smoked cigarette in the old coffee-can lid, grey-blue eyes pinched down and cold.
‘That’s exactly what bothers me, banker! Every goddamn rowdie from here to hell – and back – will show up and want to try my speed!’
‘Well, I doubt any of ’em’ll be faster than you! Why, the way you got that Colt out … My God! This has happened to you before, hasn’t it?’ Cole stared bleakly. ‘But I don’t recall the name….’
‘Different from the one I’m using now. You wouldn’t know it if you heard it.’ The sheriff shook his head sharply. ‘Damn! I should’ve known better, should never’ve taken this job. But I was broke and you offered good pay and – and this is a quiet town! Out of the way of the cattle trails, stage-run once a week, a few drunks on Saturday night, no wild-whooping trail hands wanting to lift the roof!’ He tightened his lips. ‘Then this … situation arises and there was only one way to settle it!’
‘And you sure did that!’
Cole slammed his hand down flatly on the top of the desk, the concussion overturning the empty shot glasses and spilling a few papers to the floor, where they lay ignored.
The banker looked uneasy. ‘Er – Cole, I sure as hell hope this isn’t going to … influence you, whether you stay on or not! I know you were on a three-month trial, but, man, we can’t afford to lose you! It might be once in a blue moon when something like today happens, but, by God, when it does, you’re the kind of man we want to see behind that badge! Please – and I know I speak for the whole town when I say this – please don’t even think of quitting! I believe I have enough authority with the selection committee to promise to lift your wage, or maybe present you with a cash token of the town’s appreciation. Would you consider those things?’
Cole didn’t answer right away. ‘Money’s not my main interest. I’ve earned enough for my present needs. It could take me a long way from here.’
The banker was alarmed. ‘Oh, now, listen, Cole! Don’t make any rash decisions! You go back to your hotel room and relax, think about things.’ He lowered his voice. ‘There’s one real nice young woman down the trail at Banjo Springs. No trouble to send for her. Name of Willow.’ He winked and half-smiled. ‘And that’s appropriate! She clings like a willow but I’ve never heard her weep yet. Sometimes moan, though, and—’
‘Go fix your bank, Linus,’ Cole interrupted. ‘I don’t need any female diversions, or the other kind that comes out of a bottle. I’ll think about things and let you know come morning.’
It was flat and final and the banker stood slowly, nodding jerkily.
‘All right. But I hope you make the right decision, Cole! It could be a lot more serious than you think.’
The sheriff frowned slightly. Did he imagine it or was there a hint of threat in the banker’s words…?
‘You like to explain that?’
Linus Charlton waved a hand, a little thrown off his stride now as those chilly eyes bored into him. ‘I mean, the effect it’s going to have on the town if you decide to move on. It doesn’t bear thinking about.’
Cole held the man’s gaze a moment longer and said heavily, ‘Mebbe I’m tired of moving on, Linus. Hell, no “mebbe” about it! I’ve done a lot of it and I really thought I’d found a place here where I could live quietly. You’ve no idea how disappointed I feel right now.’
The banker’s face softened. ‘You sure never hesitated to tackle those robbers!’
‘I took your money,’ was Cole’s only comment.
The banker suddenly held out one of his pinkish, uncalloused hands. Cole was surprised but gripped it briefly.
‘Stay, Cole. Stay with us. There’ll be more money whatever happens, and if there’s something else you want as part of the deal – well, you just speak up. And if we can get it for you, it’s yours.’
Adam Cole watched him cross the street through the dusty window. There was still a crowd outside the bank, studying the ground where the robbers had fallen.
You can’t give me what I want, Banker. No one can.