Legends of the West Series by Ben Jefferson

“Sit down and have a drink.” The man shook his head. “No, thank you, Cap’n — thanks all the same, though it’s an honor to be invited to share a drink with a genuine War hero. I would have once though, you know? I’d have likely given a month’s pay to say good day to Cap’n Cleve Blaisedell a few years back, mebbe a year’s pay to be able to say that I sat down and had a drink with him. Yessir, that sure would have been somethin’ . . . once... more“Sit down and have a drink.” The man shook his head. “No, thank you, Cap’n — thanks all the same, though it’s an honor to be invited to share a drink with a genuine War hero. I would have once though, you know? I’d have likely given a month’s pay to say good day to Cap’n Cleve Blaisedell a few years back, mebbe a year’s pay to be able to say that I sat down and had a drink with him. Yessir, that sure would have been somethin’ . . . once.” Blaisedell studied the man, who still had the look of a soldier. “Once, but not now, eh, soldier?” “That’s right.” The words were starting to slur. “You were just about the biggest man in the Cavalry back then, Cap’n. There wasn’t a man who wouldn’t have ridden with you, even if you planned to ride all the way to Atlanta through Beauregard’s army.” The man hiccupped and said accusingly, “But you sure let us down, didn’t you, Cap’n? The man we all looked up to turnin’ into a lousy gunfighter. That was somethin’ for the Johnny Rebs to crow about, wasn’t it? You know, Cap’n, I know fellers who spit on the floor when they hear your name. And you know somethin’ else? I’m one of ’em!” less

“Who’d he kill?” “A gambler name o’ Clemons.” “Killed him in front of witnesses?” “Nope, but he killed him, all the same. The gambler won some money off him and Cassidy cussed him out. The bouncers at the sin parlor tossed Cassidy out and he told Clemons that he’d kill him. This mornin’ we found the poor feller daid in his hotel room. He’d been murdered.” “Could have been anybody who did it.” “He had a broken back, mister,” the man said flatly, getting once more to his feet... more“Who’d he kill?” “A gambler name o’ Clemons.” “Killed him in front of witnesses?” “Nope, but he killed him, all the same. The gambler won some money off him and Cassidy cussed him out. The bouncers at the sin parlor tossed Cassidy out and he told Clemons that he’d kill him. This mornin’ we found the poor feller daid in his hotel room. He’d been murdered.” “Could have been anybody who did it.” “He had a broken back, mister,” the man said flatly, getting once more to his feet. His expression was growing hard now, for he sensed in Kemp some implied criticism of Capitan’s vigilante justice. “Don’t waste no sympathy on Ned Cassidy, stranger. He’s been gonna hang since the day he was whelped . . . it just took awhile, is all!” less

“No . . . you can’t do that, Burk.” Inwardly cursing his rashness, Macbride looked at her woodenly and said; “What are you talking about?” Still shaking her head, she stepped toward him. “What you’re planning to do. The thing that brought you to Newton.” He put on his hat and picked up the shotgun from the desk. “I came here to stop a swarm of trail-crazy Texas cowboys from running this town up a tree and cutting it out from under, just like I did in Mobeetie... more“No . . . you can’t do that, Burk.” Inwardly cursing his rashness, Macbride looked at her woodenly and said; “What are you talking about?” Still shaking her head, she stepped toward him. “What you’re planning to do. The thing that brought you to Newton.” He put on his hat and picked up the shotgun from the desk. “I came here to stop a swarm of trail-crazy Texas cowboys from running this town up a tree and cutting it out from under, just like I did in Mobeetie.” “You’re going blind, aren’t you, Burk?” “I am not.” “You’re going blind and you think you’ve failed — failed to find a woman you can love, failed to make a success of yourself . . . I can see it so clearly now.” “See what?” Macbride demanded, in spite of himself. “Why you came, of course.” Her voice held a note of wonder. “You came hoping that some gun-happy cowboy will be too fast. You came here to die.” less