Free The Gunsmith 386 by J. R. Roberts Page B

talking to himself.
    He got to his feet, but stayed bent over as he seemed to follow some tracks into the street. Clint looked both ways anxiously. He was afraid the big man might get run over by a wagon, but there was no traffic coming.
    Finally, Cain looked up at Clint, as if he were the only person there.
    â€œCan you do it?” Clint asked.
    â€œI don’t know anyone else who could,” Cain said, “but I can. We’ll need horses.”
    Clint looked at Ingram.
    â€œCan I use Dusty again?”
    â€œHe’s yours,” the lawman said.
    â€œI will get my horse and meet you back here,” Cain said.
    â€œOkay.”
    The big man walked away, his coat flapping behind him.
    â€œHe is a scary man,” Andrea said.
    â€œGood,” Clint said, “I can use a scary man.”
    â€œHe’s a helluva tracker, though,” Ingram said. “I’ll get you that steeldust.”
    Ingram walked away and Doc Martin said, “Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee while you wait?”
    â€œI’d like that, thanks.”
    Clint went inside with the vet and his daughter.
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    While Cain was saddling his horse in the livery, the sheriff came walkin’ in behind him, leading his horse.
    â€œI need you to do somethin’ for me, Cain.”
    The half-breed turned to face the lawman.
    â€œWhat is it?”
    Ingram produced a deputy’s badge.
    â€œWear this.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œWhen you find these men the Gunsmith is lookin’ for,” Ingram said, “I need you to keep him from killin’ them.”
    â€œI can do that.”
    â€œI think it would be easier for you to do if you’re official,” the sheriff said.
    Cain stared at the badge.
    â€œI know you don’t like badges,” Ingram said. “Wear it as a favor to me.”
    Cain studied the tin in Ingram’s hand for a few more moments, then took it. He didn’t, however, pin it on.
    â€œI’ll take it, and carry it,” he said, “but I won’t put it on.”
    â€œAs long as when the time comes, you show it,” Ingram said.
    Cain nodded and put the badge in his pocket.
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    â€œDo you really think this Indian can help you find Eclipse?” Andrea asked.
    â€œHe seems to know what he’s doing,” Clint said, “so I hope so.”
    â€œI hope so, too,” Doc Martin said. “I’m feelin’ really guilty about this.”
    â€œDon’t,” Clint said. “Apparently this was well planned. In fact, I’m not really sure these two men could have planned it themselves.”
    â€œYou think someone is behind this?” Martin asked.
    â€œLately,” Clint said, “I feel like people are comin’ at me, even more than they used to.”
    â€œThis is the life you’ve had to live with,” Martin said, “isn’t it?”
    â€œIn the past,” Clint said, “they’ve come at me lookin’ for a reputation. Lately, it seems more personal.”
    â€œThat must be a hard way to have to live,” Andrea said with a lot of sympathy in her voice.
    â€œIt is,” Clint said. “I seemed to be able to handle it better when I was younger. Now I just keep thinking, who hates me that much? And why?”
    â€œYou want to sweeten that a bit?” Martin asked, indicating the cup of coffee in Clint’s hand.
    â€œWhy not?”
    Martin took out a bottle of whiskey and poured a dollop into his coffee, and Clint’s.
    â€œWhat do you plan to do when you catch up to them?” the vet asked.
    â€œYou might think I want to kill them right away,” Clint said, “and I can’t say I don’t. When somebody tries to backshoot me, that’s my first reaction. But I need to find out who put them up to this.”
    â€œI can see that,” Martin said. “In fact, I can understand