Further Adventures of James Butler Hickok (9781101601853) by J. R. Roberts

street.”
    â€œThey could all end up dead, Bill.”
    â€œIf they don’t give up.”
    Neither of them discussed the possibility that it might be them who ended up dead.
    That was not an option.
    * * * 
    They did come.
    They still had not seen the sheriff come out of his office, but as dusk came, so did five riders, coming right down the center of the main street.
    â€œBill,” Clint said.
    â€œI see ’em,” Hickok said. “I ain’t blind yet.”
    â€œHow do you want to do this?”
    â€œJust sit tight,” Hickok said. “Let’s see what they do.”
    There was a saloon right across the street. It was not surprising to see the men rein in their horses in front of the place.
    * * * 
    â€œOne drink,” Rafe Jenkins called out to his brothers, “then we take care of the horses and get some hotel rooms.”
    â€œOne drink?” Orville asked. “How about one bottle?”
    â€œOrville, if you ain’t gonna do as I say,” Rafe said, “then you ain’t goin’ into the saloon.”
    â€œYou can’t stop me from goin’ into the saloon, Rafe,” Orville shouted.
    â€œBut we can,” Wild Bill Hickok said.
    The five brothers turned to see who had spoken. They saw Hickok in the center of the street, recognizable because of his mustache and hair, the brace of Navy Colts he wore. Alongside him was another man they didn’t recognize.
    â€œHickok,” Rafe said.
    The Jenkins boys knew Hickok was in Cheyenne when they hit the bank, but it never occurred to Rafe that Wild Bill would take out after them.
    â€œWhat are you doin’ here?” Rafe asked.
    â€œWaitin’ for you and your brothers,” Hickok said.
    â€œAnd who’s that with ya?”
    â€œOh, meet my friend, Clint Adams.”
    â€œAdams,” Rafe said.
    â€œJeez,” young George said, “it’s the Gunsmith, Rafe.”
    â€œI know who he is, George,” Rafe said. “What do you boys want?”
    â€œWe’re takin’ you back to Cheyenne to stand trial,” Hickok said. “You killed a lot of people during the bank robbery, including a young boy.”
    â€œThat wasn’t our fault,” Orville said. “He got in the way. He shouldn’t’ve been in the street.”
    Orville was the one who had ridden the boy down.
    â€œYou boys shouldn’t’ve been robbin’ the bank,” Hickok said.
    â€œI know who you both are,” Rafe said, “but you’re still only two against five, Bill. Why don’t you walk away?”
    â€œAnd why don’t you call me Mr. Hickok?” Hickok said. “We ain’t friends, so you ain’t got the right to call me Bill.”
    Clint kept quiet the entire time, but he kept his eyes on Rafe Jenkins. The others would move when he did—except maybe the one called Orville. He seemed to be the wild card in the deck.
    â€œWell, okay, Mr. Hickok, what do we gotta do to make you and your friend go away?”
    â€œWe ain’t goin’ away,” Hickok said. “Drop your guns and come along quiet-like.”
    Rafe squinted at Hickok and Clint and then said, “I don’t see no badges on you fellas.”
    â€œNo badges,” Hickok said, “just guns. It’s all we need.”

THIRTY-THREE
    â€œHow you wanna do this, Mr. Hickok?” Rafe asked.
    â€œThe choice is yours, Jenkins,” Hickok said. “Yours and your brothers. Why don’t you give them a vote?”
    â€œI ain’t gotta,” Rafe said. “My brothers go along with me.”
    â€œThen we’ll do it right here in the street,” Hickok said.
    â€œYou ain’t got the law on your side, Hickok,” Rafe said. “This ain’t right.”
    â€œThis is right, Jenkins,” Hickok said. “That’s why we’re here, to do the right thing, for those people you killed. For that