FORTY-FOUR
When Sam Robinson heard the knock on his office door, he said, “Come in.”
He wondered who’d come looking for him this early in the morning. The door opened and Colonel Woods entered the office.
“Colonel,” Robinson said.
“Sam,” Woods said. “We have some things to discuss.”
They left the hotel and walked until they came to a tent that was serving food. The doctor said good-bye and continued on after saying, “Be careful. Colonel Woods is not a man who likes to lose.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Clint said.
They sat over steak and eggs and discussed their next move.
“We’re goin’ right to the panhandle,” Crapface said. “No more stops.”
“I think we’ll come to Hugoton first,” Clint said.
“And we’ll probably find the same thing we found here,” Crapface said. “Trouble.”
“You’re probably right.”
“I know I am,” Crapface said. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine,” he said. “This bandage is just tight. I get on a horse I’ll be fine. We stop at that other town, there’s gonna be somebody there who wants to hire you, or kill you.”
“I’m not arguing with you,” Clint said. “I’m real happy to get away from here and let them fight over their county seat.”
“You think they’ll let us?” Crapface asked.
“Let us what?”
“Get away?”
“Oh yeah,” Clint said. “I don’t think they’re going to want to deal with us anymore.”
At that moment Joyce Woods came through the tent flap. She spotted them and rushed over.
“I’ve been looking for you,” she said. “I suspected you’d be eating.”
“We’ll be leaving as soon as we’re finished,” Clint said.
“I’m leaving today, too,” she said. “Going back East. I can’t stay here.”
“I don’t blame you. What about your father?”
“Oh, he’s staying,” she said. “He’s trying to join forces with Sam Robinson.”
“I figured as much,” Clint said.
She put her hand on Clint’s shoulder.
“My father wants no part of you,” she said. “He only wants the two of you to leave.”
“Oh, we’re leavin’,” Crapface said. “Don’t you worry about that.”
She looked at him. He had his skins on again, and the smell had not improved.
He ate the last piece of steak on his late, grabbed his rifle, and said to Clint, “I’ll get the horses.”
“Okay.”
“That big black of your ain’t gonna bite off my finger, is he?”
“Be nice,” Clint said. “Mention my name.”
“I’ll be outside.”
As Crapface left, Joyce sat down. Clint waved to a waiter for the bill.
“I owe you my thanks,” Clint said. “According to Crapface.”
“I couldn’t just stand by and watch you get killed,” she said.
“I appreciate that.”
“Are you really going buffalo hunting with that smelly man?” she asked.
“I am,” he said. “And we’re going to enjoy it.”
“Why don’t you come back East with me?”
“There’s nothing back East for me, Joyce,” he said. “My life’s out here, in the West.”
The waiter brought the bill and Clint paid it, then stood up. Joyce looked up at him.
“Time to go,” Clint said.
“We’re going in separate directions,” she said. “I think I’ll have a cup of tea before I go.”
“Then I’ll say good-bye.”
“Good-bye, Clint.”
Oddly, she put her hand out. He shook it, and walked out.
Outside he found Crapface standing with the horses.
“That was fast.”
“I saddled yours, let somebody else saddle mine,” Crapface said, handing Clint his reins. “I wanna get out of here.”
“Can you mount up on your own?” Clint asked.
“Watch me.”
He struggled, but got it done. Clint mounted up.
“What did she want?”
“She wanted me to go back East with her.” “Jeez,” Crapface said, “what would you do back East?”
“Exactly what I asked her,” Clint said.
They wheeled their horses around and left Woodsdale, heading for the Texas panhandle and the last of the buffalo.
Watch for
THE GOVERNOR’S GUN
366th novel in the exciting GUNSMITH series
from Jove
Coming in June!
The Last Buffalo Hunt Page 11
