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The Vicar of St. James

Page 11

by J. R. Roberts


  “I tolja we shoulda killed him when he came ta see us,” Delbert said to Clem.

  “Yeah, yeah. I tolja to aim a little to the left,” Clem said.

  “I ain’t used ta missin’,” Delbert said. “I don’t even know why ya made me miss when he was at the tree.”

  “I thought killin’ the Gunsmith would bring too much attention,” Clem said. “How many time I gotta tell ya?”

  “So now we gotta kill him and the vicar,” Delbert said. “That ain’t gonna bring too much attention to Griggsville, is it?”

  “Time for us ta leave town anyway,” Clem said, “get set up someplace else, start takin’ jobs again.”

  “Killin’ is all we’re good at, Clem,” Delbert said. “That and makin’ mash.” He licked his lips. “Sure wish I had me that jug now.”

  “We’ll get the jug after we kill them,” Clem said, “then we’ll get outta town.”

  “Hey,” Delbert said, “they’re movin’.”

  “I’ll take Adams,” Clem said, “you take the priest.”

  “I gotta kill the priest?”

  “Well, once of us gotta kill the priest.”

  “Why don’t you do it?”

  “You wanna take the Gunsmith?”

  “Sure,” Delbert said. “Why do you get to be the man who killed the Gunsmith?”

  “You idiot, we ain’t gonna tell anybody we killed him,” Clem said. “And we ain’t religious!”

  “Yeah, well… I still don’t wanna kill no priest.”

  “Fine,” Clem said. “I’ll take the priest, you take the Gunsmith.”

  “Okay.”

  “And you better not miss.”

  “I won’t.”

  They split up.

  Clint got to the stand of trees without drawing any fire. From the sound of it, Father Joe had also made it to the barn. If they each got close enough for their pistols to be effective, Clint felt they would have the upper hand. The Dagen brothers seemed to like to do their killing from a distance.

  He remained in the trees, keeping silent and listening intently. Would the Dagens stay where they were, or try to move in?

  He decided to wait and see…

  Father Joe made it to the barn, moved around to the rear of it. From there he thought he could get an angle on the Dagens. He didn’t know what he would do when he got within range. He hoped to be able to get the drop on at least one of them, and get him to drop his gun. If he had to use his gun for the first time in years, he didn’t know if he’d be able to. And if he did, he didn’t know how he would be able to justify it.

  He peered around from behind the barn and saw that the Dagens had split up and were on the move. The justification would have to come later…

  Clint was also wondering about Father Joe and whether or not he’d be able to use his gun. If not, then he was out here alone again two stone killers. But if Father Joe—the former gunfighter Joe Holloway—could not use a gun, why would he have offered to come and watch his back? He certainly knew that a Bible would not do the job.

  Clint didn’t hear anyone moving around, but the Dagens had already proven they could move without making a sound. He decided it was he who needed to move.

  He turned, came out of the trees, and found himself facing Clem Dagen…

  FORTY-THREE

  Clem stopped short when he saw Clint come out of the trees. It was a shock because he thought he could get the drop on Clint.

  He brought his rifle up…

  Father Joe could tell what Delbert Dagen was aiming to do. He was going to come from the back of the barn, right where the vicar was. Father Joe backed away, ran to the other end, and ducked around the side just as Delbert made it to the back.

  Father Joe flattened himself against the wall to wait, and did not draw his gun…

  Clint saw Clem’s rifle coming up, took the time to say, “Don’t,” but knew the man was committed. He had no choice but to draw and fire…

  The sound of the shot did not surprise Father Joe. He was expecting shots. What surprised him was that there was only one.

  He steadied himself, though, because he couldn’t hear Delbert moving. The Dagens moved like Indians. But when the man appeared, Father Joe was ready…

  Delbert heard the shot, but didn’t react. He didn’t like that the shot came from a pistol, but he had to concentrate on what he was doing. He hoped to come around the barn and be able to get the drop on the priest.

  As he came around the barn, though, he saw the priest standing in front of him, his hand coming up. He brought the rifle up at the same time…

  Clint’s bullet hit Clem squarely in the chest. The man stepped back in surprise, looked down at the blood on his chest, then looked at Clint again. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead blood gushed from it, and he finally fell. Clint stepped to the body and kicked the fallen rifle away. Then he heard the shot.

  From a rifle…

  Father Joe brought the Bible up, realized that Delbert thought he had a gun. “Wait,” he said, but Delbert triggered the rifle.

  The bullet struck the Bible with a solid thwack, and went through it. The book was not thick enough to absorb the bullet, but it slowed it down. When it came out the other end, it struck Father Joe in the left arm, spinning him around and knocking him to the ground.

  On his back the vicar of St. James watched as Delbert Dagen stepped forward and pointed the rifle down at him.

  “I’m sorry, Father,” the killer said.

  “I forgive you,” Father Joe said.

  Delbert’s finger was not on the trigger. In the split second it took him to put his finger on the trigger, Clint was there.

  “Delbert!”

  The killer looked up, saw Clint, and tried to lift the rifle and train it on him. Clint fired his second shot of the day and Delbert fell over backward, his rifle flying from his hand.

  Clint moved quickly to kick the rifle away just in case, then bent over Father Joe.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  “I’m fine… just my arm…”

  Clint pulled him to his feet, saw the Bible in his hand with the hole in it.

  “Looks like you decided to go with the Bible after all.”

  “It saved my life,” the vicar said. “Slowed the bullet down.”

  “Well, a bullet of your own would have saved your Bible.”

  “Maybe,” Father Joe said, “but what would it have done to my soul?”

  Clint shook his head and said, “Damn it, don’t ask me questions I can’t answer.”

  They heard a moan and looked down at Delbert.

  “He’s still alive,” Father Joe said.

  The vicar rushed to the fallen man’s side and took his hand.

  FORTY-FOUR

  Clint and Sheriff Bricker entered the saloon and approached the bar. Once again men moved to be farther away from them.

  “Hey, don’t worry,” the sheriff called out, “we got the men who tried to kill Adams.”

  That didn’t seem to ease anybody’s mind.

  “Couple of beers, Eddie,” the sheriff said.

  “Comin’ up,” Eddie said.

  He got the beers and set them on the bar.

  “You got ’em?” Eddie asked.

  “Clint and Father Joe did,” Bricker said.

  “The vicar?” Eddie asked.

  “He didn’t fire a shot,” Clint said. “He did it with his Bible.”

  “So… they’re in jail?” Eddie asked.

  “Oh, no,” Clint said, “they’re dead. Father Joe used his Bible, and I used my gun.”

  “So why’d they do it?” Eddie asked.

  “Do what?”

  “Kill Whittington and Carter?”

  “Oh, that was their business,” Clint said. “Everybody thought they were a couple of dumb farmers, but they were actually hired killers.”

  “Those two?”

  “Yup,” Bricker said. “Turns out they were great shots with a rifle.”

&n
bsp; “Not much good close up, though,” Clint added.

  “Wow,” Eddie said. “Too bad they’re dead. It’d be nice to know who hired them.”

  “Oh, we know,” Clint said, sipping his beer. “One of them lived just long enough to tell us. Seemed he thought it might ease his soul in the afterlife. At least, that’s what Father Joe told him.”

  “So… he told you, huh?”

  “Oh yeah, he did,” Sheriff Bricker said, “and if you come out from under that bar with a shotgun, Eddie, I’ll kill you.”

  Eddie looked at Clint.

  “Oh, me, too,” he said.

  Eddie brought his hands out empty.

  Clint turned to the few men who were in the saloon.

  “Somebody better go and tell Weaving he needs a new bartender out here.”

  At the doctor’s Clint found Father Joe with his arm in a sling, and bandaged.

  “How’s he doing, Doc?” Clint asked.

  The physician, a young man who, oddly enough, had come to Griggsville to try and build a practice, said, “Oh, he’ll be all right. The bullet missed the bone. That Bible really slowed it down.”

  “Can I take him out of here?”

  “In a little while,” the doc said. “I want him to rest some, and if I let him go, I know he won’t.”

  He walked away and left them alone.

  “Get him?” the vicar asked.

  “Yeah, the sheriff’s got him in his jail.”

  “Why’d he do it?”

  “Well, seems the real owner of the saloon is Eddie,” Clint said. “Weaving’s just his front man. Eddie had some kind of land deal going with Whittington, which Carter found out about. He had Carter killed, but Whittington, drunk, stumbled into it and the Dagens killed him, too.”

  “Why’d they string them up like that?”

  “Delbert said it was Clem’s idea. ‘It just come to him,’ he said, and then he died.”

  “So it’s all over.”

  “Yes.”

  “Somebody will have to tell those two poor women.”

  “Father Joe, those two women aren’t so pathetic, believe me,” Clint said.

  “Are you gonna tell them?”

  “No,” Clint said, “I think that should come from you, Father.” Clint didn’t want to be around when the two women compared notes about him and realized he’d been with both of them.

  “What are you gonna do?”

  “Time for me to do what I started out to do,” Clint said. “Leave.”

  Father Joe put out his right hand and they shook emphatically.

  “Take it easy on your flock, Joe,” he said. “They’re afraid of you.”

  “I know,” Father Joe said. “I’ll ease their mind some. But do me a favor.”

  “What?”

  “Skirt around that tree when you leave,” Father Joe said, “just in case.”

  Clint grinned and said, “I’ll do that.”

  Watch for

  THE LAST BUFFALO HUNT

  365th novel in the exciting GUNSMITH series

  from Jove

  Coming in May!

 

 

 


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