The polls had just closed as Jon and Camp came thundering into town. They reached the front of the jail and dismounted. They hurried up the wooden steps and went inside.
“Any news Ed?” Jon asked his trusted deputy.
“Nope, it’s a little early. The polls just closed. It will be a little while before the ballots are all counted. How’d it go out at Faraday’s?” Ed asked.
“Not too well, Ed,” Jon replied. “Faraday didn’t want to talk about Canady. When I brought him up, he tried to throw us out.”
“Oh boy! I’ll bet that didn’t go over too well,” Ed’s eyes were wide with anticipation.
“Sure didn’t. Cook grabbed my shoulder and I let him have it a couple of times.”
“A couple of times? Oh my! Is he dead?” Ed exclaimed.
“Not quite.” Camp joined the conversation. “But when we left he didn’t look too good.”
“I heard he’s a boxing champ or something,” Ed said, always amazed at the great punching power of big Jon. “A couple of times. Wow! He’ll be laid up for awhile!”
“I had to teach him a lesson. Least now they know I mean business,” Jon said quietly, a little embarrassed by all the talk.
“Better watch your back side partner, a man like Clive Cook has a lot of pride and you humiliated him in front of his boss. I got a feelin’ you’ll see him again,” Ed said, eye brows raised toward his boss.
“Thanks for the warning, Ed. We’re going down to the Barbee and grab some dinner. I’ll have Sam send you down a plate.” Jon and Camp turned to leave.
“You’re all heart!” Ed bellowed.
As they walked down to the Barbee, Jon thought about his visit to Faraday’s enclave. Faraday’s a proud man, he won’t give up easy. This will be a tough fight.
Camp interrupted Jon’s thoughts, “Hey Jon, is that Canady over there talkin’ to Web Norton?” he asked. Two men were standing in the street near the one room school. Norton was an average sized man; the other man was small and thin.
“Yea, that’s him,” Jon said as he and Camp came to a stop on the wooden walkway. Jon leaned against a support post and looked across the dusty street at the two men.
“He’s doesn’t look that mean to me,” Camp quipped.
“Don’t let his size fool you Camp. He’s mighty quick on the draw and he ain’t afraid of nothin’. He’d kill his own mother if the price was right. Butch Canady is one bad man.”
Jon told Camp about his time with Canady in the Kansas Territory. “I spent a couple of years in Dodge City after leaving the family farm in Indiana. Still wet behind the ears, I heard a lot about a local gunman named Butch Canady. And what I heard wasn’t good. He was a gun for hire. Several enemies of the sheriff in Dodge came up missing. Everyone knew who did it, but of course nothing was ever done about it. I saw him shoot a dog dead on the streets of Dodge just for barking too loud. Canady has a big empty hole inside of him and the only way to fill it is to hurt someone or something else. He is a very bad man.
“What do you want to do for now, Jon?” Camp asked.
“I’ve had enough fun for one day, Camp. We’ve got plenty of time to deal with Butch Canady. Let’s go have some dinner.”
“Yea, he’d probably say somethin’ wrong and you’d let him have it and I’d have to take him to the Doc!”
Jon lifted up Camp’s Sonoma straw hat and ruffled the young deputy’s hair as both men had a good laugh.
Their fun was short lived as shots rang out from over by the little school house. People were screaming and running to get out of the way.
“Looks like Canady’s making his presence known already,” Jon said as he jumped down from the walkway and ran like a shot toward the trouble. Camp was close behind.
As Jon got closer he could see Canady standing over a young man waving his smoking six guns in his face and threatening him. At one point he kicked the fallen man in the groin. Jon drew his six guns as he got closer. He pointed them directly at Butch Canady’s back when he reached the scene.
“Sheriff Stoudenmire here Butch, don’t make any sudden moves or you’re a dead man,” Jon said calmly.
“My oh my, Jon Stoudenmire. Haven’t heard that name for a coon’s age, how are you, Jon?” Canady asked. He stood very still, not wanting to alarm the sheriff.
“Listen real close Butch. I want you to slowly slide those six guns back in your holsters. If those guns go any way but straight down I’ll blow your damn fool head off.” Jon sounded tough and commanding.
“No problem Jon, I ain’t lookin’ for no trouble,” the nasty gunman said as the white handled Cimarrons slid slowly out of his thin fingers and into the awaiting holsters.
“Now, put your hands up and turn around slowly.”
Butch felt the metal barrel of Jon’s six gun poke into his rib cage.
“Okay Jon, stay calm. I don’t want no trouble with you,” Canady replied as he slowly turned around.
As he turned, Jon had forgotten how strong he looked face on. Although a small man, he looked muscular and wiry. He had a square face, dark from the sun, with thin lips and a flat nose. His eyebrows were thick and bushy; his eyes looked black and empty. His face was accentuated by a thin black handle bar mustache. He was a tough looking hombre.
“What seems to be the problem here, Butch?”
“Seems like this fella over here says I killed his brother a while back in the Nebraska Territory. I said he was a liar and he drew on me. I shot him in the arm Sheriff, it was self defense. Web here will testify to that fact, right Web.”
“Yea, it was self defense alright,” Web replied nervously.
“Is that true, young fella?”
“Yea, I drew on em alright. He shot my brother in cold blood and he’s gonna pay for it,” the young man shouted.
“Are you just passin’ through?” Jon asked the youngster.
“Yea, I’m on my way to Tombstone to visit family.”
“I want you out of town by midnight tonight or I’ll throw you in jail for attempted murder. It’s for your own good. So get your supplies and get on out of town,” Jon said as Camp threw the young man his hat.
“There’ll be another time, Mr. Canady,” the youngster shouted as he brushed his jeans and hurried off.
“Well thank you Sheriff, you kept me from havin’ to kill that young fella,” Canady smirked; a brown stain popped in the dust as Butch spit on the street.
“Listen to me, Canady. I know why you’re in town and I know what you’re up to. You would have killed that boy in a minute, but you got a job to do and you haven’t been paid yet.” Jon detested men like Canady. He wanted to put a bullet in his belly in the worst way.
“You win this time Sheriff, but I’m gonna be around for awhile. So I’m sure we’ll meet again,” Canady said coldly.
“I sure hope so, Butch! I’d like nothin’ better than for you and I to go one on one.”
Canady’s mouth curled up in a wicked smile as he mounted his horse and rode toward Faraday’s saloon with Web Norton close behind.
“Sure seems like a nasty critter,” Camp said.
“One of the worst. Gotta keep a close eye on him,” Jon replied as he slid his two Army Colts back in their holsters.
“Let’s get some grub!”
The man with the striped hat pounded the Honky-Tonk piano. Turkey in the Straw resounded throughout the saloon. The gambling hall was buzzing with activity; laughter filled the air as Jon and Camp entered the Barbee to get little grub and wait for the election results.
“Howdy boys,” Sam the bartender slid a couple of shots of Early Times in front of the two lawmen.
“Howdy Sam.” Jon walked over and took his usual spot at the end of the bar. He could see the room better from there. Just in case some unhappy relative of one of the men he’d killed happen to show up and try to get even.
“What was the gunplay all about?”
“Alex Faraday’s hired gun winged a guy out there,” Camp replied.
“What’s the guy’s name?’ Sam asked.
“Butch Canady and he’s a bad one,” Camp replied.
Suddenly two shots rang out by the front door.
“Listen up everybody!” the smallish election official shouted, six gun still smoking. “The results are in!” The official’s small hand slipped inside into his vest pocket; a crinkled up piece of paper appeared. “For County Commissioner the results are! Alex Faraday 474. Clive Cook 387, Paul Nettles 212, Dave Carson 123, and Jeb Harter 82. Our two newly elected Commissioners are Alex Faraday and Clive Cook. Since the positions are vacant due to a death and sudden retirement, their terms will start immediately, thank you!” There was nice applause and several ‘here, heres,” as the official hurried out the door.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Jon said disgustedly. “They just got what they wanted.”
“Yea, they’re going to try and take over now and the town doesn’t even know it, it ain’t right!” Camp complained.
Jon looked warily through the swinging doors at the scene outside. Norton and Canady rode by at full gallop, anxious to get the news of the election to Alex Faraday. The billowing dust from their horses’ pounding hoofs darkened the street. As the dust cleared, Jon could see the sun setting under the surrounding hills. It was a calm and beautiful scene. Those men must be stopped! Jon thought as he looked out at the quiet street.