Denver, Co
Talbot Roper sat back in his chair and considered everything his friend had just told him.
“Why the heck would they bring the body and the casket all the way out here?” he asked.
“I have the same question,” Clint said.
“There’s no way they could have removed the body from the casket,” Roper went on, “not after all this time.”
“Agreed. If they traveled with it, they had to travel with the entire thing.”
“You know what I think?” Roper said.
“No,” Clint said, “but that’s what I want to know, Tal, what you think.”
“I don’t think they intend to give the body back when you pay the ransom,” the detective said. “I think if you want that body back you’re going to have to take it.”
“Makes sense to me.”
Roper waved to the waiter for the check but when it came Clint grabbed it.
The two friends left the restaurant and the hotel to walk aimlessly.
“Okay, my friend,” Roper said, “what do you want from me besides my opinion?”
“First, I’m wondering if the thieves came all the way by wagon,” Clint said, “or if at some point they put the casket on a train.”
“I can check on that.”
“Then I need to know what the situation is in Segundo,” Clint added. “Is there any law-and-order there? Or is it an outlaw hold?”
“I can find that out, too,” Roper assured him. “Anything else?”
“Well,” Clint said, “like you said, I think I’m going to have to take the body back. I was kind of hoping you’d ride down there with me, and watch my back.”
“You know I will,” Roper said. “What about Masterson? Can we get hold of him?”
“I sent some telegrams, but got no word back,” Clint said, shaking his head. “I don’t know where Bat is, or what he’s up to.”
“And Earp?”
“I think he’s in Alaska.”
“So it’s just you and me?”
“I was hoping that it was at least you and me, Tal,” Clint said.
“Well, lucky for you I cleared my desk,” Roper said. “I have no active cases keeping me in Denver. When do you want to leave?”
“Tomorrow,” Clint said, “if you can get all the information we need by then.”
“Well, I’ll need to work all day today to get it,” Roper said, “so we better say goodbye now and I’ll see you in the morning.”
The two friends shook hands and separated there on the street.
“I’ll meet you in front of your hotel with my horse, and supplies.”
“I want to travel light.”
“Don’t worry, I know how you work, Clint,” Roper assured him. “I’ll just have supplies divided into two sacks, one for you, one for me.”
“Okay, Tal.”
Roper crossed the street and hurried off to work on the information Clint wanted.
Clint went back to his hotel.
###
Feeling as if he was wasting the rest of the day Clint went back out a couple of hours later and walked to the nearest telegraph office. He sent several telegrams, still trying to locate his friend, Bat Masterson, and then sent one to Detective Kingman in Springfield, inquiring about Wentworth and Wyatt. He asked the clerk to send the replies to his hotel as soon as each came in, and not to wait for them all.
“Yessir,” the man said. “I’ll take care of it.”
Clint left, walked back to the hotel.
He was in the dining room having lunch when the first reply arrived. A boy appeared at the doorway to the diningroom, spoke to one of the waiters, then was allowed to approach Clint’s table.
“Got a telegram for you, mister,” the boy said, “that is, if you’re the Gunsmith.”
“I am.”
“Golly,” the boy said, staring.
“Are you going to give it to me?” Clint asked.
The boy continued to stare, but held the telegram out to him.
“Thanks,” Clint said, handing the boy a coin. “Here you go.”
“Gee, thanks, mister.”
“Hang around the telegraph office a little longer,” Clint said. “There might be more.”
“Thanks!”
The boy turned and ran out.
Clint looked at the telegram. It was from the detective in Springfield.
BOTH MEN GONE. SUGGEST YOU WATCH YOUR BACK. KINGMAN.
He folded the telegram and put it in his pocket. So both Wentworth and Wyatt had left town. Were they headed for Segundo, also? Had that been the plan all along, or had Clint’s actions influenced theirs?
He certainly didn’t have to be told to watch his back.
He wasn’t finished with his lunch when the boy appeared a second time. This time he had two telegrams. Clint gave him two coins, but was disappointed at the contents. Both informed him that his messages had not reached Bat Masterson.
Where the hell was Bat, these days, he wondered? It would certainly make him feel safer to go to Segundo to face a group of disgruntled old Greybacks with two of his friends watching his back, instead of one.
Still feeling as if he was wasting time Clint sat in the lobby of the hotel rather than in his room. At least he had people to watch as they checked in or out, ir simply came in to eat in the diningroom. He was seated there when the desk clerk came over.
“Sir, a message for you.” The man handed him a slip of paper.
Clint had seen a boy come into the hotel, but it was not the same boy who had brought him his telegram, so he’d ignored him.
“Thank you.”
He opened it. It was from Roper, asking him to meet him for dinner at a steak restaurant called MASON’S. Roper supplied the address.
At least this gave him something to do, and Roper had probably come up with the information Clint needed. He stood to go to his room to get dressed for dinner, then realized he really had nothing but trail clothes with him. So instead of going to his room he left the hotel and asked the doorman where the nearest place was he could buy a suit.