Free The Loner: The Bounty Killers by J. A. Johnstone

shudder went through him as his fingers curled around the bars. After his experience in Hell Gate Prison had left his back crisscrossed with fading whip scars, he had sworn he would never allow himself to be locked up again.
    And yet there he was, behind bars once more.
    The Kid drew in a deep breath. “Marshal!” he called. “Marshal Fairmont! Are you out there?”
    The would-be bank robber in the cell across the way stirred and muttered in his sleep, but after a few seconds he started snoring again.
    With a heavy tread, Fairmont appeared in the doorway. “I thought I heard somebody stirring around back here. You’re awake, are you, Morgan?”
    “You can see that for yourself,” The Kid said. “I tell you again, you’re making a mistake, Marshal.”
    “Not according to that reward poster. But if you’re right and it’s wrong, then I suppose I’ll owe you an apology. It’s not up to me to sort that out, though. I’ve sent a wire to the New Mexico territorial authorities in Santa Fe advising them that I have you under arrest and asking them what they want me to do with you.”
    The Kid felt an odd surge of hope when he heard that. It was possible that Claudius Turnbuckle had been in touch with those same authorities, and when Fairmont heard back from Santa Fe, the message might well inform him that all charges had been dropped and The Kid was free to go.
    That would be the best outcome for the fiasco. The Kid wouldn’t likely know if it was true until morning at the earliest.
    “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I had to lie to you, Marshal.”
    Fairmont nodded. “You see, that’s one reason I’ve got my doubts about you. If you’re telling the truth about not being wanted, why did you lie about your name?”
    “Think about it, Marshal. You’re not the only one who’s seen that wanted poster.”
    Quickly, The Kid told Fairmont about his two encounters with bounty hunters in the mountains west of Las Vegas and the narrow escapes he’d had. There was no longer any point in concealing any of that information.
    “So when I rode back into town, all I wanted to do was send that wire to my lawyer, wait for his response, and then get out again without anybody paying any attention to me.” The Kid couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice as he added, “And then those four robbers came running out of the bank.”
    Fairmont rubbed his jaw. “I reckon you did save my life,” he admitted. “But then you lied to me, and you made it worse by coming to my house and continuing to lie to me. In my book, that goes a long way toward evening things out.”
    “If I had told you the truth then, would you have believed me?”
    “Well . . .”
    “No, you’d have believed what you saw on that wanted poster,” The Kid said.
    Fairmont jerked his head in a nod. “More than likely.”
    “So you see, all I was trying to do was save you some trouble.”
    “You can look at it that way if you want,” the marshal said. “To me it seems like you were just trying to avoid being locked up again.”
    “Locked up unjustly,” The Kid said. “For the second time.”
    “That’s for somebody else to sort out, not me. I’m sure that if you really have that fancy lawyer in San Francisco you keep talking about, he’ll be able to get to the bottom of things.”
    “You don’t believe me about the lawyer, either, do you?”
    Fairmont looked steadily at him and said, “Right now I’m not sure I’d believe anything that comes out of your mouth, Morgan.”
    “I guess I might as well get some sleep, then.”
    The outlaw in the other cell had stopped snoring. He said, “Yeah, especially if it means that you’ll shut up so the rest of us can sleep!”

    Fairmont spent the night in the marshal’s office, explaining that he didn’t feel comfortable leaving when he had a couple prisoners. But when The Kid woke up in the morning after a few hours of fitful sleep, Fairmont was gone. He’d probably headed home for some