“So you’re MightY Matt,” Sly said, extending his hand.
“And your Slick Sly,” Matt Rhodes said.
Clint and Nadine stood aside, watching the two ex-fighters shake hands.
“Slick Sly?”
“He was called that because he hardly ever got hit,” Matt said. “Now me, I’d wade in because I could take a punch.”
“And when he landed a punch, the fight was over,” Sly said. “Look at my hands, my swollen knuckles. I’d land jab after jab after jab. Now look at Matt’s hands.”
“They don’t look swollen at all,” Nadine said.
“That’s because he usually only needed to land one punch,” Sly said.
“Impressive,” Nadine said, “I guess. In fact, you both seem to have been fairly accomplished.”
“Have you ever seen a fight, Miss?” Sly asked.
“I can’t say I have.”
“It’s very technical,” Sly said. “Unless you were Mighty Matt.”
Matt laughed and slapped Sly on the back, almost knocking the man over.
“Okay, then,” Clint said, “since we’re all here, we might as well talk about who does what.”
“What do you mean?” Nadine asked.
“He means,” Sly said, “who takes the front, who takes the back, and who stays with you.”
“With me?”
“Every minute,” Sly said.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t have someone next to me all the time. I’ll feel too crowded. I have to be able to work.”
“It’s okay,” Clint said, “as long as she’s inside, she’ll be fine. You fellers work out the shifts, as far as who takes the front and who takes the back.”
“And when do we sleep?” Sly asked.
“Whenever I’m here.”
“And when will that be?” Matt asked.
“I’ll know more after I do something,” Clint said.
“What’s that?” Matt asked.
“I think I should go and see Emory Bates.”
“Why?” Nadine asked.
“To talk to him,” Clint said. “After all, he can’t want this to turn into a blood bath.”
“A blood bath?” Nadine asked. “W-why would that happen?”
“Well, his nephews were roughing you up when I got here,” Clint said. “And he’s hired the big black man. Who knows what’s next?”
“Guns,” Sly said.
“Probably,” Clint said.
“You mean . . . gunmen?” Nadine asked. “Just to take my gallery?”
Clint took hold of Nadine by her shoulders.
“This may be my fault,” he said. “Now that he knows who I am, he might be looking to hire some gunmen.”
“But . . . you were only trying to help me. I don’t blame you.”
“Thanks for that.”
“Maybe,” she said, “I should just give him the gallery.”
“No,” Matt said, “you can’t give in to a man like him.”
“He’s right,” Sly said. “You’ve got to fight him off.”
“I’ll go and see him,” Clint said.
“When?” Sly asked.
“Today’s as good a time as any.”
“Alone?” Matt asked.
“Yes,” Clint said. “I don’t want my visit to look aggressive.”
“You won’t go unarmed, will ya?” Sly asked.
“Sly,” Clint said, “I never go anywhere unarmed.”