As Clint entered the gallery he was impressed with the interior. He hadn’t known what to expect, but there were hard wood floors, a high ceiling, paintings on the walls, sculptures scattered about on pedestals, and plenty of room to move around. Maybe he’d thought there’d be so much art he wouldn’t be able to walk freely. There were also no customers, now that the man with the cane had left, and didn’t seem to be any employees.
But he was in no hurry. He decided to simply stroll about, inspect the pieces, and wait and see if an employee or owner appeared.
That was when he heard the noise from the back.
There were voices, both male and female, and the sound of something heavy being moved—perhaps scraping across the floor.
“Hello?”
The voices continued, apparently unaware of him, and when they became raised he realized there was more than business being transacted.
“Get away from me!” a woman shouted.
“Grab ’er!” a man ordered.
Clint hurried to the back, down a hallway to what appeared to be the doorway to an office. As he got there he took only seconds to process what was happening in the room.
A tall, red-haired woman was backed up against a wall, with two men closing in on her. Apparently, she had been behind a desk, but the desk was now off to the side, where someone had shoved it, making the scraping noise he’d heard. There was also a chair turned over onto its side.
As he watched the tall man reached for her, his hand closing on the green dress she wore. When he pulled there was a ripping sound, and the bodice tore off in his hand.
The woman tried to cover her bare flesh with her hands, as her shoulders and the swell of her breasts came into view.
“Now!” the second man said, reaching for her.
“That’s enough!” Clint shouted.
All three people in the room stopped, and turned toward his voice.
“What the hell—” the tall man said.
“If you know what’s good for you, mister, you’ll get outta here,” the shorter one said.
“Help me, please,” the woman pleaded.
“That’s what I’m going to do, ma’am,” he said. “Now, you two back away from the lady.”
“Griff,” the shorter man said, “show the man to the street, will ya?”
“Be glad to!” Griff said. Then he frowned. “George, don’t do nothin’ ’till I get back.”
“Go!”
“I think you both better go,” Clint said.
“I’m gonna break you in two, friend,” Griff said, grinning with glee.
Clint thought he might have been able to take care of one of the men with his hands, but probably not two—and definitely not without doing a lot of damage to the room.
So he reached behind his back and came out with the Colt New Line.
“George?” Griff called.
George, who had turned back to the red-haired woman, looked over his shoulder and saw the gun in Clint’s hand.
“Now, that’s foolish, mister,” he said, turning. “You don’t know who you’re dealin’ with.”
“I know enough,” Clint said. “Two jaspers mistreating a woman. That’s all I need to see. Now the two of you be on your way. Don’t make me use this gun.”
“George?” Griff said. “You think he’d use it?”
George studied Clint for a few moments, then said, “Yeah, he’d do it, Griff.”
“Come on,” Griff said. “Let’s go.”
He waited for the two men to start toward him, then backed out the door, keeping them covered.
When they were out of the office and in the gallery he asked, “You fellers armed?”
“You mean with guns?” George asked.
“That’s what I mean.”
“We don’t carry guns,” Griff said.
“What do you carry, then?”
“Well,” Griff said, “clubs . . .”
“ . . . and knives,” George said.
“You want to try a club or a knife against my gun?” he asked.
“No, sir,” George said, “we don’t. But there’s gonna come a time you ain’t got that gun.”
“We’ll see,” Clint said. “Go on, head for the door.”
Griff looked at George, waiting for the smaller man to move before he did, and then they both walked to the door. Clint’s gun barrel followed them all the way.
“You know,” George said, when they got to the door, “that ain’t a very big gun.”
“I’ve got a bigger one,” Clint said. “Any time you want to see it, let me know.”
George grinned, slapped Griff on the back and opened the door for him. The big man went out first, followed by George, who closed the door behind them.