Iâll tell it in court,â Johnny said.
âMe, tooâ Luke chimed in.
âJust a couple of public-spirited citizens, eh?â
âYou know us, Sheriff. Always ready to help out the law,â Johnny said.
Barton laughed out loud without humor at that one. âYou only been back for a month or two so you might not be up to speed yet. What do you know about Vince Stafford and his Ramrod outfit?â
âNot a thing.â
âA bad bunch to mess with.â
âThat supposed to make a difference to me?â
âNot you, youâre too ornery.â Barton turned to Luke. âYou got no excuse, though. Youâve been back long enough to know the way of things.â
âI ainât worried, Sheriff. I got you to protect me,â Luke said, all innocent-faced.
âYeah? Whoâs gonna protect me?â
âDeputy Smalls?â Johnny suggested.
âYou boys donât give a good damn about nothing, do you? I like your nerve, if nothing else,â Barton said. âItâs your funeral. Donât say I didnât warn you.â
âDuly noted,â Johnny said cheerfully
Damon Bolt cleared his throat. âIâm free to go?â
âFree as air,â Barton said. âIf youâre smart youâll keep going, a long way off from here.â
âThatâs not my style, Sheriff.â
âNo, it wouldnât be. Youâd rather stay and get killed.â
âIâd rather stay,â Damon conceded.
âWe wonât argue,â the sheriff said.
âYou know where to find me for the inquest.â
âIf youâre still alive. Vince Stafford knows where to find you, too.â
âIâll be waiting.â
âHe wonât come alone.â
âThe undertaker can use the business. Things have been slow around here lately.â
âLaugh while you can, Damon. It wonât be so funny when the lid blows off this town.â
âWeâll see. We through here, Sheriff?â
âFor now.â
âIâll be on my way, then. Iâve got a date with the barber for a shave and a haircut,â Damon said.
âTell him to make the corpse presentable,â Barton said sourly.
Damon nodded to Johnny and Luke. âStop by the Spur later. Iâll buy you a drink.â
âItâs a go,â Johnny said. Luke nodded assent.
Damon went up the street to the barbershop and went inside.
âDecent fellow at that,â Wade Hutto said, musing.
âToo bad heâs got to die,â Barton said.
Spectators gathered around the body of Bliss Stafford, gawking, buzzing. Deputy Smalls plucked at Bartonâs sleeve. âSomebodyâs got to tell Vince.â
âYou want to be the one to tell him his pup is dead?â Barton asked.
âNo, thanks!â
âHeâll find out soon enough,â Wade Hutto said. âNo doubt somebodyâs already on the way to the ranch to give him the word.â
âGood news always travels fast,â Barton said sarcastically.
âCareful, somebody might hear you,â Hutto cautioned.
âAt this point, who gives a damn?â
âI do,â Hutto said. Gripping Bartonâs upper arm, he led him off to one side for a private chat.
âSomebody was bound to burn down Bliss Stafford sooner or later. He was a troublemaker and a damned nuisance,â Barton said.
âGood riddance!â Hutto said heartily.
âToo bad it was the gambler. Some lone hand done it, some drifter, we could step back and wash our hands of it. But it ainât some nobody, itâs Damon Bolt. Heâll fight.â
âHeâs got friends, too. Gun hawks. Heâll make a mouthful for Vince at that. Hard to swallow.â
âI hope he chokes on it,â Barton said feelingly.
âThose Staffords have been getting too big for their britches. Trouble is, the townâs in the way. Hangtown could get pretty badly