"Oh, yes. But always with others. Never alone. Frank, I'm goin' to check out the back of this block of buildings. Don't step out until you get a signal from me."
Jerry exited the rear of the cafe while Frank waited on one side of the street, Kid Moran on the other. They leaned up against awning support posts and stared at each other without speaking.
As it nearly always happened in Western towns, the word spread fast and the main street became quiet -- no riders, no one walking up and down.
"All clear back here, Frank," Jerry called from one end of the block.
"OK, Jer." _Then why am I so edgy?_ Frank wondered. He wasn't afraid of facing The Kid in a hook and draw situation. Frank made it a point to find out all he could about any and all gunfighters, new and old, and he knew that while The Kid was very quick, it was reported that he almost always missed his first shot. Frank used to be the same, until he began spending countless hours practicing, making that all important first shot count.
Fear wasn't a factor in the edgy feelings Frank was experiencing.
Frank again searched the rooftops of the buildings across the street. As near as he could tell, there was no one up there. The Kid was still leaning against the post across the street, staring at him.
"All right," Frank muttered. "I've had enough of this. I'm going to find out what The Kid has on his mind." He stepped off the boardwalk and into the street.
The Kid immediately straightened up and began walking away from Frank, heading down toward the end of the street. Frank signaled Jerry to stay put, and began following The Kid. He didn't have a clue as to what was going on ... but something was up -- he was sure of that.
The Kid suddenly stopped and looked around him -- everywhere but directly at Frank. Then he crossed the street.
Frank was now standing in the middle of the wide street.
"Well, damn!" Frank muttered.
Half a dozen fast shots blasted the early morning air, as near as Frank could tell, coming from near the Henson office building. He looked for The Kid, but Kid Moran had vanished.
"Goddamn it!" Frank yelled, and took off running.
--------
*Fourteen*
Frank rounded the corner of the street just as Hal went down in another roar of lead from several pistols in the hands of men standing in the middle of the street in front of the Hanson building. The bodyguard spun around, hit several times, and slumped to the dirt. Frank shot the first assailant in the belly, and his second round knocked another down in the street, hip-shot. Frank was forced into an alley as several hidden gunmen opened fire, the bullets howling and whining all around him. The third gunman in the street jumped behind a water trough.
Frank had caught a quick glimpse of Conrad, huddled in the doorway of the office building. He didn't appear to be hurt, but was apparently too frightened to seek better cover. And Vivian was due to arrive at any moment.
Frank snapped a quick shot at a man standing in a doorway.
The bullet knocked a chunk out of the door stoop and sent splinters into the face of the man. Screaming in pain as one of the splinters stuck in his eye, he stepped out of cover. Frank put a bullet in the man's guts that doubled him over and sent him stumbling into the street. He collapsed facedown in the dirt, and was still.
Jerry's six-gun cracked from the other end of the street, and a man yelled and went off the roof of a boarded-up building. Anyone within earshot could hear his neck break as he landed in the street.
"This ain't workin'!" a man yelled. "Let's get the hell outta here!"
Frank and Jerry waited.
"How?" another man shouted.
"Through the pass, you nitwit. Just like we planned."
There was silence for a moment, then the sounds of several horses being ridden hard away from the edge of town.
Jerry ran over to Frank, a pistol in each hand. "Are you hit?"
"No. Let's see about the boy. I don't think he's hurt, just scared."
Conrad was getting to his feet when Frank and Jerry reached him. His face was ashen, and he was trembling. "They were going to kidnap me!" Conrad blurted. "Hal pushed me down and stood in front of me." He looked at Hal, bloody and dead in the street. "Oh, my God!" Conrad started to move toward Hal, and Frank stopped him.
"Easy, boy. No point. He's beyond help."
"You don't know that!"
"I know, boy. I saw him take three rounds in the center of the chest."
"I liked that man. I didn't at first. But I really liked him. He saved my life."
"That's what he was paid to do, Conrad."
Jerry was checking the dead and the wounded. "Two alive, Frank. And one of them ain't gonna be for long."
"Good," Frank said. "The jail's gettin' full." A crowd had gathered at the mouth of the street. "One of you get Doc Bracken, and someone get the undertaker. Move!" He turned to Jerry. "See if you can locate Kid Moran. Don't brace him, Jerry. Just see if he's still in town."
"Will do."
Jimmy and Vivian walked up. Vivian was pale with shock, and Jimmy was killing mad. Frank could read it in his eyes. "Settle down, Jimmy. They're gone."
"Me and Hal been pards for a long time, Frank. I ain't likely to forget this."
"See to Mrs. Browning and her son, Jimmy. Right now!"
Jimmy nodded and took Viv's arm, leading her and Conrad toward the front door of the office building and inside. Jimmy stood in the doorway for a moment, looking at the bloody and still body of his longtime friend. The man touched the brim of his hat and walked inside the office, closing the door.
Someone called that the doctor had been roused out of bed and was on his way, as was Malone, the undertaker. Frank walked over to the hip-shot gunman. On closer investigation, he recognized him -- Max Stoddard. He was wanted in several states for murder, and there was a hefty reward for his arrest.
"You boys are making me a princely sum of money, Max," Frank told him.
"Go to hell."
Frank smiled at the outlaw. "Time I get through here, I'll be near'bouts able to retire, I reckon."
"Damn you, Morgan!"
Frank reached down and slipped an over-and-under derringer from the outlaw's left boot. "Were you thinking I'd forget about this little banger, Max?"
"I was hopin' you would, you bastard."
Frank laughed at him and took a long-bladed knife from the sheath on the outlaw's belt. "Not likely, Max. I haven't stayed alive this long by being careless."
"Ned or Vic will get you, Morgan. You can count on that. They'll get you 'fore this is over."
Doc Bracken was pushing his way through the still gathering crowd, cussing loudly and ordering the gawkers to get the hell out of his way.
Mayor Jenkins was right behind him, both of them looking as though they had jumped into their clothes, unshaven and with disheveled hair.
"What the hell happened here?" the mayor shouted.
"These men tried to kidnap Conrad Browning," Frank said, pointing to the dead and wounded in the street. "Conrad's bodyguard was killed. Conrad and his mother are safe. They're in the office building."
"My God!" the mayor whispered. "Do you know any of these men, Marshal?"
"I know this one. Max Stoddard. He's wanted for murder in several states. All these men are part of the Pine and Vanbergen gangs."
The mayor patted Frank on the arm. "Wonderful job, Marshal. Superb."