Free Bounty on a Baron by Robert J. Randisi Page B

found him and brought him in—or killed him. Without the Baron to back him up, Calder wouldn’t be able to hold on to Douglas. As soon asthe news broke that the notorious hired killer had been brought in, the town would turn on him.
    Nervous, the sheriff tried to calm himself. He knew what the Baron was capable of. Before he panicked, he’d wait until he either heard from him or heard that he’d been caught.
    In Broadus, Brand realized that it had been a while since he had contacted Calder to find out if anyone was asking about his services.
    He was sitting on the porch of Josephine’s house, waiting for her to close the store and come home to cook him dinner. It wouldn’t take long for him to walk over to the telegraph office and send word, but that would tell Calder where he was. What he usually did was travel to a different town to contact the sheriff. That way no two messages ever came from the same place.
    Right now he was too comfortable to saddle a horse and ride to the next town, so he just settled back and continued to wait for Jo.

Chapter Fifteen
    Broadus was by far the largest town Decker had come across along the Powder River. It had not one, but two hotels, two saloons, a telegraph office, and many other shops that only show up in a growing town. To his surprise, it even had an ice cream parlor.
    Decker found the livery and gave John Henry over to the liveryman’s care. He was happy to be in a real town again, where he’d be able to get a real meal and sleep in a real bed. Although his stay at the logging camp had been comfortable enough, it would not be able to rival a stay in a true town.
    He entered the hotel lobby, put his saddlebags on the floor, and leaned his rifle against the front of the desk.
    There was no clerk, but just moments later a man stepped out from behind a curtained doorway. He was a small, rather portly man with thinning black hair and a small moustache.
    “May I help you, sir?” he inquired politely.
    “Yes, I’d like a room.”
    “Certainly. Please sign the register.”
    While he was signing, Decker asked, “Who’s the sheriff here?”
    “Our sheriff’s name is Kyle Roman, sir.”
    “How long has he been sheriff?”
    “I’d say…almost two years.”
    “Is he a good one?”
    “I’d say he was quite adequate.”
    “Adequate” was not a word Decker would use to describe a lawman. He was either good or bad—and if he was adequate, that was the same as being bad. Still, two years seemed long enough for the man to know the area.
    Decker finished signing in and asked for a room that did not overlook the street.
    “Of course, sir,” the clerk said. “Here you are.”
    He gave Decker the key and told him the room number.
    “Do you have bath facilities?” the bounty hunter asked.
    “Oh, yes, sir. If you go out the front door, make a left, and then another left, we have a bathhouse at the rear of the hotel.”
    “Thanks,” Decker said.
    He went to his room, dropped off his gear, and then followed the clerk’s directions to the bathhouse. Inside, he found bathing facilities for almost a dozen people. Three of the stalls were in use.
    “A bath, sir?” an elderly man asked. He was sweating, because it was oppressively hot inside the building.
    “That’s why I’m here,” Decker announced, feeling himself begin to sweat.
    “Please undress out here and hang your clothing on a hook.”
    “Out here?”
    “Don’t worry, sir. Everything will still be here when you come out.”
    Decker, looking dubious, undressed and accepted a towel from the man, which he wrapped around his middle.
    “You can have stall number 7, sir. The water is plenty hot.”
    Decker picked up his gunbelt and headed for the back.
    “Oh, sir, you can leave your gun out here.”
    “Maybe I can,” Decker said, “but I sure as hell won’t.”
    The man didn’t know how to react to that.
    “P-Please,” he stammered. “It’s the rules—” Decker ignored him and kept going, closing the door