Free War of the Mountain Man by William W. Johnstone

boys take it easy now. And come back to Barlow anytime, now, you hear?”
    The rancher and his foreman did not reply. They stomped out and slammed the door behind them. Smoke sat at his desk and chuckled.
    Â 
    Â 
    Smoke suffered through the party given by the good ladies of Barlow. He answered the questions—from both men and women alike—as best he could, and ate fried chicken and potato salad until he felt that if he ate another piece, he’d start clacking and laying eggs.
    Walking back to the hotel—they had now been moved to the best room in the place, the Presidential Suite, which included a private water closet—Sally said, “Max Huggins had pretty well beaten these people down, hadn’t he, honey?”
    â€œYes. And that first day in town, I came down hard on them—probably too hard. It’s easy for someone ruthless to cut the heart out of people. It’s ridiculously easy. Max is a smart man as well as a ruthless one. He went after the children of the townspeople. That shows me right there how low he is.”
    â€œYou’ll have to kill him, won’t you, honey?”
    â€œMe, or somebody. Yes.”
    Sal walked up, making his rounds, rattling doorknobs and looking up dark alleyways.
    â€œQuiet, Smoke,” the small man said. “I figure it’ll be that way for three, maybe five days. Until Red gets back on his feet. And then he’ll come gunnin’ for you.”
    â€œI expect he will, Sal. I doubt if the man has ever received so thorough a beating as he got today.”
    â€œSmoke, he ain’t never even been whipped before this day. And that’s the God’s truth.”
    â€œWalk along with us, Sal. Tell me about him.”
    â€œI ain’t from this part of the country, Smoke. I was born in Missouri and come west with my parents in ’50, I think it was. They settled in Nebraska and I drifted when I was seventeen. Most of my time I spent in Colorado and Idaho. That’s how come it was I knowed who you was. I didn’t come to this area until last year. I was fixin’to drift come the end of the month anyways. I just don’t cotton to men like Red Malone and John Steele. I’ll tell you what I know about him and about Max Huggins. I was told that Malone come into this area right after the Civil War. He was just a youngster, maybe nineteen or so. He carved him out a place for his ranch and defended it against Injuns and outlaws. Built it up right good. But he’s always been on the shady side. Lie, cheat, steal, womanize. I was told his wife was a decent person. She bore him one son and one daughter, and then she took off when it got so Red was flauntin’ his other women in her face. He’s got women all over the country.”
    Smoke stopped them and they sat down on a long bench in front of the barber shop.
    Sal pulled out the makings and asked Sally, “You object, ma’am?”
    â€œOh, no. Go right ahead. I’ll take a puff or two off of Smoke’s cigarette.”
    Sal almost dropped the sack at that. He kept any comments he had to himself. Strong-willed woman, he thought. Probably wants the vote, too. Lord help us all.
    Sal rolled, shaped, licked, and lit up. “Red’s daughter is a right comely lass. But Tessie is spoiled rotten, has the manners of a hog, and the morals of a billy goat. Melvin is crazy. Plumb loco. He likes to hurt people. And he’s fast, Smoke. Have mercy, but the boy is quick. And a dead shot. But he’s nuts. His eyes will scare you, make you back up. He’s killed maybe half-a-dozen men, and they weren’t none of them pilgrims, neither. Red’s good with a short gun, but Melvin is nearabouts as fast as you, Smoke. And I ain’t kiddin’.
    â€œNaturally, just as soon as Big Max come into the area, him and Red struck a deal. Max would own the law enforcement of the county—and it’s a sorry bunch—and control the north