Free A Lone Star Christmas by William W. Johnstone Page B

City?”
    â€œFour dollars and ninety cents.”
    â€œThank you.”
    Hurley did some figuring, then looked up. “I can give you four dollars and fifteen cents a head. That’s seventy five cents below market and quite frankly, Mr. Conyers, this is the best I can do.”
    Big Ben extended his hand across the desk. “Mr. Hurley, I’ll have the cattle here by day after tomorrow,” he said.

C HAPTER F IVE
    Chugwater, Wyoming, June 27
    When Biff Johnson saw a tall man with golden hair, wide shoulders, and muscular arms come into Fiddler’s Green, the saloon Biff owned, he reached under the bar to find the special bottle of Scotch that he kept just for his friend, Duff MacCallister. He also poured one for himself, then held his glass up.
    â€œHere’s to them that like us, and to them that think us swell,” Biff said.
    â€œAnd to them that hates us, long may they roast in hell,” Duff replied, as, with a laugh, the two friends touched their glasses together.
    Biff Johnson was a retired U.S. Army sergeant who had been with Benteen’s battalion as part of Custer’s last scout. When he retired he had built a saloon in Chugwater and named it Fiddler’s Green, after an old cavalry legend: Anyone who has ever heard the bugle call Boots and Saddles will, when he dies, go to a cool, shady place by a stream of sweet water. There, he will see all the other cavalrymen who have gone before him, and he will greet those who come after him as he awaits the final judgment. That place is called Fiddler’s Green.
    In the three years since Duff had come to America, he and Biff had become good friends, partly because Biff was married to a woman from Scotland, and partly because of an incident that had happened shortly after Duff arrived.
    â€œMacCallister!” Malcolm called from the darkness of the saloon. “Why don’t you come back out into the street, and I will as well? We can face each other down. What do you say? Just you and I, alone in the street.”
    â€œYou don’t expect me to believe that, do you?” Duff called back.
    â€œBelieve what?”
    â€œThat it would just be the two of us.”
    Malcolm laughed. “You think that because I have friends with me, that I may take unfair advantage of you, MacCallister? Alas, that is probably true. Tell me, what does it feel like to know that you won’t live long enough to see the sun set tonight?”
    All the while Malcolm was talking, Duff was keeping one eye on the mirror and the other on the corner of the watering trough. Then his vigil was rewarded. Duff saw the brim of a hat appear, and he cocked his pistol, aimed, took a breath, and let half of it out. When he saw the man’s eye appear, Duff touched the trigger. Looking in the mirror he saw the man’s face fall into the dirt, and the gun slip from his hand.
    â€œCarter! Carter!” the man at the end of the trough shouted. Suddenly he stood up. “You son of a bitch! You killed my brother!” He started running across the street, firing wildly. Duff shot one time, and the man running toward him pitched forward in the street.
    Duff heard the bark of a rifle, then he saw someone tumbling forward off the roof of the dress shop. The man had had a bead on Duff, and Duff hadn’t seen him. Looking toward the sound of the rifle shot, Duff saw Biff Johnson. Smiling, Biff waved at him, then stepped back behind the corner of the Curly Latham’s Barber Shop. 1
    â€œWill you be coming into town for the Fourth of July celebration?” Biff asked.
    â€œWhen is that?”
    â€œThe Fourth of July is on the fourth,” Biff answered with a laugh. “Funny thing about that holiday, but it comes on the fourth, every July.”
    â€œWhat day of the week?” Duff asked, laughing with him.
    â€œI know what you meant, I was just teasing you. It’s next Friday. Of course, being a Scotsman, our Independence Day