Free Payback at Big Silver by Ralph Cotton

said in a quiet tone. “Boomer tried buffaloing me the same way when I arrested him. Luckily he went down before he got close enough to do any damage.”
    â€œThat’s it, stick together,” Dobbs said. “That’s what you law dogs always do.”
    â€œLet’s go, Freddie,” said Sam. He gave a sharp yank on the lead rope, causing Dobbs’ horse to jerk sideways almost out from under the outlaw.
    â€œThere was no cause for you doing that,” Dobbs said sorely, readjusting himself in his saddle. “Whatever happened to free speech in this country? I see a miscarriage of justice, I ain’t allowed to speak out about it?”
    â€œYou’ve got a right to speak out,” Sam replied. “I’ve got a right not to listen.” He looked at Stone and shook his head, indicating that this was what he had to look forward to all the way to Fort Hamlin.
    â€œHave a good trip to Fort Hamlin, Ranger,” Stone said with a wry, knowing grin.
    Sam backed his dun a step, drawing the two other horses along with him.
    â€œI’ll see you on my way back, Sheriff,” he said to Stone.
    Stone shook his head. His cigarette back in his mouth, he tapped nervous fingers on his gun butt.
    â€œYou don’t have to come back on my account, Ranger,” he said. “I told you I’m all right here without being checked on.”
    â€œI know you’re all right, Sheriff,” Sam said, touching the brim of his sombrero. “I’ll be passing through here anyway. Can I stop and water my horse if I’ve a mind to?” He eyed Stone closely.
    Stone stopped tapping his fingers and let out a breath. He touched his hat brim in return.
    â€œBegging your pardon, Ranger,” he said. “I might still be a little jumpy. You’re always welcome here. I’ll see you on your way back.”
    The Ranger nodded and backed the horses some more. Turning the animals, he rode at an easy gallop along the dirt street, Dobbs and Boomer’s body riding right beside him. As he passed the front of the Silver Palace Saloon, Silas Rudabaugh, Clayton Boyle and Donald Ferry looked out through the wavy window glass beside their table.
    â€œI always say it’s a good day when you see a lawman ride out of town,” said Boyle. “Especially one who’s dead, or soon will be.” He tipped his raised glass toward the other two gunmen. “You can start to feel the wide doors of opportunity swing open toward you.” He grinned as Ferry nodded eagerly and raised his glass high. Rudabaugh only gave the slightest tip of his glass and a wry smile.
    â€œTo dead lawmen, then,” he said.
    The three tossed back their whiskey. Ferry picked up his frothy beer mug, took a long drink and set it down. The other two watched him wipe foam from above his lip.
    â€œWhat makes you think Burrack is soon to be dead?” he asked under his breath.
    Boyle leaned in above the tabletop, a little whiskey bent, and spoke in an equally lowered voice.
    â€œWhat makes you think he’s
not
?” he asked.
    Ferry just looked at him.
    â€œDo you know something I don’t?” he asked.
    â€œI know a hell of a lot that you don’t know, Ferry,” Boyle said slyly. “For instance, I know it’s a dangerous trail from here to Fort Hamlin.”
    â€œStick that beer mug in your mouth, Clayton,” Rudabaugh said in a harsh warning tone.
    â€œI never said nothing, did I, Silas?” Boyle said.
    â€œNo, but you’re getting too damn close to it,” Rudabaugh replied. He finished his whiskey and set the glass down with a strong bump on the tabletop.
    â€œHey, pards,” said Ferry, “I’m one of us, remember? Is there something I need to know here?”
    â€œNo,” said Rudabaugh, without taking his hard glare off Boyle. “Clayton here just likes to talk when he drinks. I warn him all the time, it’s something