Free Quiet Town by J. T. Edson

latter having taken Roxie Delue first to Grimwood’s establishment, then to her home where her hired men took charge of the wagon and she went to get changed.
    “Lon, take Doc and Rusty, make the rounds,” Dusty ordered.
    The Ysabel Kid nodded. “Sure. I’ll put my hoss in the corral first.”
    Dusty and Mark remained in the office, they sat at the desk and Dusty waved Happy Day into a chair. “You’d better tell it, Happy. You sound like you know a tolerable amount about Bronco Calhoun.”
    “Yeah!” Happy’s voice was harsh and bitter. “I know a tolerable amount about Bronco Calhoun. I should know. My name’s not Day. I’m Dayton Calhoun. I was with ole Bronco for—!”
    The door of the office was slightly open and a gasp sounded from it. The door was pushed open and Roxie Delue stood there. The Navy Colt was in her hand, lined on Happy Day, a look of hate on her face as she pulled back the hammer.
    “Calhoun!” she gasped. “You’re one of those Calhouns. Bronco’s son.”
    The men sat without a move. The gun was lined rock steady on Happy’s chest, the hammer drawn back and the girl’s finger pressing the trigger. No matter how fast any of them moved they could not save Happy. The instant Roxie’s thumb relaxed its hold of the hammer it would fall, strike and explode the percussion cap which would send its spark of flame into the powder in the chamber and hurl the .36 ball into Happy’s body.
    “Go ahead!” Happy’s voice was barely more than a whisper. “That’ll be three dead Calhouns for you.”
    “Three?” Roxie had heard the shooting and guessed some of what happened. “But Mark only went to find one.”
    “That’s right,” Happy’s eyes were on the girl, pleading, not for his life but for her to believe and trust him. “Mark killed Bert. I killcd Deke.”
    The gun wavered, the hammer lowering, although she did not holster the gun. “You killed your own brother?”
    “Bronco wasn’t my father, even though I lived with him for years. My mother and I were on a stage he robbed. He killed the rest and took us because our name was the same as his. I was eight and for seven years we lived with him. He tried to make me like the others but I wouldn’t. Reckon I’m just stubborn. I was fifteen when Bronco’s gang raided a bank and got drove off. Him and his boys got clear although they left five dead men behind. Bronco was mean drunk when he got back to the hideout. He blamed maw for the raid failing and shot her. Would have shot me too but his gun was empty. He pistol whipped me and left me there. Reckon he thought I was dead. I should have been. Two days later a couple of Sioux bucks found me. They were fixing to kill me but a man called Alvin Travis saved my life. He was a scout for the Army and couldn’t have been kinder if he’d been my own father. He buried maw and took me with him. Told folks we were a nester family the Injuns got and that way they didn’t get curious about me. I swore I’d get Bronco and every other member of that family. Alvin did all he could to help me. We rode together and he taught me how to drive a wagon team, and ride scout. He was killed a year back and I started out to look for Bronco. I know the way Bronco and his boys work so when I got word they were down here I came looking.”
    The room was silent when Happy Day finished his story, none of the others saying a word. Roxie’s face was a flickering whirl of emotions as she looked at the young man she had meant to kill. The gun hung at her side unheeded until she remembered it and shoved it back into the holster. There was pity and shame at her own actions, on her face. She saw Happy looking at her and knew that bad as he wanted the Texans to believe him he wanted her trust far more. She felt something wet on her cheeks and reached up a hand angrily to brush the tears which welled in her eyes.
    “Dang Texas tobacco!” she snapped angrily although neither Dusty nor Mark were smoking. “Those