Way with a Gun by J. R. Roberts Page B

he finished. “Basically, hurry up and get it done, and signed by somebody named Tell in Selkirk, Arizona.”
    â€œDo you know this Tell fella?” Taylor asked.
    â€œNever heard of him.”
    â€œWhy is he lettin’ you know where to find him?” Ransom asked.
    â€œThat’s obvious,” Clint said. “He wants me to find him. I’ll know why when I do.”
    â€œAnd that’s where you were headin’ when we stopped you?” Taylor asked.
    â€œThat’s right.”
    â€œI’m really sorry, Clint,” Taylor said. “I had no idea—”
    â€œThat’s okay,” Clint said. “We’re going to be done here in two days’ time at most.”
    Taylor and Ransom looked at each other. Clint knew what they were thinking, that he was assuming he’d come out of the confrontation alive.
    â€œI’m always looking ahead,” he told them. “You can’t ever assume you’re not going to survive.”
    â€œI suppose you’re right,” Taylor said.
    â€œYou know,” Ransom said, “Ned might have more than twelve men with him. We could be outnumbered more than two to one.”
    â€œWe’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Clint said. “All we can do is get the men we do have ready. Andy, you were going to get us some lookouts.”
    â€œFirst thing tomorrow I’ll line ’em up,” the lawman promised.
    â€œUm, you’re not going to get any boys who are related to Pine, are you?”
    â€œDon’t worry about that,” Taylor said. “We’ve pretty much gone through all his relatives.”
    â€œThat’s good.”
    â€œExcept for the women,” Ransom said.
    Clint looked alarmed. “We’re not going to have to deal with any of the women, are we?”
    â€œProbably not,” Taylor said.
    â€œUnless they pick up guns,” Ransom said.
    â€œJesus...”
    â€œWhat do you want to do with the two men from tonight?” Taylor said.
    â€œBury them,” Clint said. “I’ll pay for it.”
    â€œYou must have a lot of money,” Ransom said, “payin’ Kale and Delaney, and now payin’ to bury these two.”
    â€œYou know,” Clint said, “even if I did have a lot of money—which I don’t—I probably wouldn’t after leaving this town.”
    â€œI’ll talk to the undertaker,” Taylor said.
    â€œI’m gonna have a drink somewhere and turn in,” Ransom said. He looked at Clint. “If you don’t mind, I’ll do it alone—just in case somebody else wants to take a shot at you. I had enough excitement for one night.”
    â€œOnce again, thanks for the help,” Clint said. “I might be dead if it wasn’t for you.”
    â€œWe all still might be dead,” Ransom said. “Some of us ain’t as confident as you are—but you’re welcome.”

THIRTY-THREE
    The next morning Clint met with Ransom, Kale, and Delaney in front of the small saloon. Sheriff Taylor came minutes later with two boys in tow who looked to be fourteen or fifteen.
    â€œWhat are these boys here for?” Kale asked.
    â€œThey’re going to be our lookouts,” Clint said. He looked at Taylor. “Do we have two good rooftops to put them on?”
    â€œTwo two-story buildings at the north end of town,” Taylor said.
    â€œWhat about the south end?”
    â€œThey won’t be comin’ from the south,” the lawman said.
    â€œWho says?” asked Clint.
    â€œWell . . .”
    â€œI don’t think we need two lookouts at the same end of town. Do you, Sheriff?”
    â€œI guess not. Okay, so one at the north end and one at the south.” Taylor looked at the boys. “You fellas work out who goes where.”
    â€œDo we get guns?” one of them asked.
    â€œWhat’s your name?” Clint asked.
    â€œI’m