High Wild Desert by Ralph Cotton

it?”
    â€œI suppose it is,” Sam replied.
    â€œOh,” said Rattler, “I also need to warn you there’s already a couple of bad eggs blew in off the desert, asking around about you.”
    Sam looked at him.
    â€œThey call themselves the Derby Brothers,” he said, “but that’s not their name, and they are no kin that I can figure out.” He gave a shrug. “Who knows why these knot-heads do what they do—idiots, is all I can come up with.”
    â€œThey’re still in town, these two?” Sam asked.
    â€œThey might be. That’s why I bring it up,” said the sheriff. “I had no real cause to boot them out of there. I had no idea you was coming, else I would have made up a reason. I still can as far as that goes.”
    â€œNo,” Sam said. “If they’re out to collect the bounty, it’s best I know where they are.”
    â€œLike as not they’re gone on by now,” said Rattler, the two of them turning to the door. “Their kind don’t stick long. They most likely have bounty of their own to worry about.”
    Rifles in hand, the two turned, walked out the door and followed a double line of walk planks along the edge of the crowed street. But before they had gone thirty yards, Sam saw Adele Simpson running toward them from the direction of the Number Five Saloon, recklessly forcing her way along the middle of the street through a tangle of wagon, buggy, horseback and foot traffic.
    â€œRanger! Go back!” she cried out, seeing Sam and the sheriff walking toward her.
    â€œWhat the—?” Sheriff Rattler said, stopping, his hand darting to the gun holstered on his hip.
    Sam ran forward, seeing the frightened look on Adele’s face. When he reached her, she steadied herself against him, winded, struggling to catch her breath.
    â€œGo back, Ranger Burrack!” she warned. “There’s men back there waiting to kill you!”
    â€œEasy, ma’am,” Sam said, looking past her shoulder in the direction of the big wooden beer mug hanging overhead. “What are you talking about?”
    â€œTwo gunmen . . . in derby hats, Ranger,” she said, gasping for breath. “They’re in the alley . . . right before the saloon. They found out you’re here. They’re waiting for you.”
    Derby hats? The Derby Brothers . . .
    Passing onlookers gazed at them curiously, seeing the badge on the Ranger’s chest. Looking toward the Number Five, Sam saw the thick crowd begin to part. Wagons veered off to the side of the street, horses and buggies hastily turned off into alleys. Pedestrians disappeared quickly into shops and businesses.
    â€œAll right, Adele,” Sam said. “Take it easy. Take a breath.”
    She settled herself a little and looked back over her shoulder in fear.
    â€œNow, then, tell me what you can,” Sam said in a calm, even tone of voice.
    â€œI came back from the depot . . . to get some things before my train arrives this evening. The clerk at the mercantile store overheard these men talking outside the open window. They’re waiting there for you.”
    â€œIt looks like they’re not waiting now,” Sam said, noting the street traffic changing before their eyes.
    â€œRanger Sam Burrack!” a voice called out from beyond the stirring crowd.
    The Ranger didn’t reply.
    â€œI—I had to warn you,” Adele said. “I couldn’t let you walk into an ambush.”
    â€œRanger Burrack!” the same voice called out.
    The Ranger still didn’t reply.
    â€œHere, let’s get you off the street, ma’am,” he said to Adele. Looking toward the sound of the voice, he guided her off to the side of the quickly vacating street.
    â€œWhat—what are you going to do?” she asked, a fearful look in her eyes.
    Sam didn’t answer her. Instead he looked at the two men walking