Free Code of the Mountain Man by William W. Johnstone Page A

Smoke?” Mills asked gently.
    â€œI don’t know. God loved His warriors. I do know that. But I like to think that maybe there is a middle ground for men like me.”
    â€œLike Valhalla?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAnother personal question, Smoke?”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œHow many men have you killed?”
    â€œI honestly don’t know, Mills. Over a hundred, surely, and possibly two hundred. I’ve got a lot of blood on my hands, I won’t deny that. Jesse James gave me my first pistol, way back during the war, when I was just a kid in Missouri. A Navy .36, it was. I carried that old pistol for a long time. And put some men in the ground with it.”
    â€œWhat happened to it?”
    â€œI think it’s in a trunk up at the ranch house.”
    â€œYou have children, Smoke?”
    â€œOh, yes. They’re in France with their grandparents, traveling and getting an education. Baby Arthur had to go for medical treatment. Their mother couldn’t go because she gets deadly ill on ship.”
    â€œOutlaws killed your first wife, didn’t they?”
    â€œYes. And smothered my baby son in the cradle while they were raping Nicole.”
    Mills knew the story. It was legend. At first he thought it was all a big lie. Now he knew it was all true. How a young Smoke Jensen tracked them down and killed them all. Castrated one of them and cauterized the terrible wound with a white hot running iron.
    Frontier justice, Mills concluded, doesn’t leave any room for gray areas. It’s all black and white and very final.
    â€œI found Sally about a year later,” Smoke said. “We married and have been together and very happy since then. You married, Mills?”
    The U.S. Marshal shook his head. “No. I haven’t found the right woman yet, I suppose.” He smiled, rather sadly, Smoke thought. “But I’m still looking.”
    â€œI hope you find you a good woman, Mills. There’s one out there. Just keep looking.”
    One of Mills’ men, Winston, stuck his head in the office door. “About half a dozen men riding in, Mills. They look like thugs to me.”
    Smoke smiled. Probably half the men in the West look like thugs. He put the little dog in its bed and walked to the window. Winston had been correct in his assessment of the riders.
    Deke Carey and Dirty Jackson were among the six men. He’d seen pictures of Deke, and Smoke had had a run-in with Dirty some years back, when both had been much younger.
    â€œYou know them?” Mills asked.
    â€œI know them.”
    Mills watched as Smoke slipped the leather thongs off the hammers of his .44s. “It’s come to that?”
    â€œIt’s come to that.” Smoke stepped out on the boardwalk.

Chapter Six
    Dirty cut his eyes as the six outlaws rode slowly past the marshal’s office. His smile was savage.
    â€œWe’ll arrest them,” Mills said.
    â€œOn what charge? There aren’t any warrants on them that I’m aware of.”
    â€œThen we have no right to interfere with their freedom of travel.”
    Smoke chuckled at that. “Deke there, he’s a backshooter, a thief, and a child molester. Dirty has done it all: cold-blooded murder, rape, robbery, torture, kidnapping. I told him years ago that if I ever laid eyes on him again, I’d kill him. And that is exactly what I intend to do.”
    â€œBut you said there are no warrants on them!”
    â€œNone in Colorado. But I’ve been holding one just for him for years.”
    â€œWhere is it?”
    Smoke patted the butt of a .44. “Right here in Mr. Colt. Now, Mills, you and I have become friends over the past week or so. But this is personal between Dirty and me. He killed a little girl in Nevada some years back. He bragged about doing it and then left town just ahead of the posse. He’s fixing to come to trial over that killing. Right shortly.”
    â€œBut