Free Straw Men by J. R. Roberts Page A

themselves.
    There was a moment of heavy silence, which was broken by a question asked by a scruffy cowboy toward the back of the aisle. “That really Clint Adams?” he asked.
    Of all the men inside the stable, only Biggs and one other were in uniform. The soldier with the larger collection of ribbons on his chest said, “That’s him. I’ve seen him before in Dallas as well as Labyrinth.”
    Clint squinted into the shadows within the stable and then smiled. “Sid McGurn? I didn’t expect to see you again.”
    McGurn stepped forward and extended his hand. “Probably not, especially since I could barely put two cents together for a slice of bread the last time we met.” Turning to the rest of the men, McGurn added, “Don’t ever play poker with this one. He’ll cheat you blind!”
    Clint rolled his eyes and waved off the warning. He was then introduced to the other three men who followed McGurn’s lead by slapping Clint on the shoulder or throwing him a few lighthearted threats about cheating at cards. One of the men was a scout. Another was along to translate Indian languages and the third was armed to the teeth. Apparently, Clint wasn’t the only one coming along for protection.
    â€œIs this the whole bunch?” Clint asked.
    McGurn nodded. “It is, but our scout will only come for a portion of the ride to make sure we’re heading in the right direction. After that, we’re on our own.”
    â€œSuits me,” the gunman replied. “I got enough bullets to clean out the whole tribe.”
    â€œLet’s not make that our first plan,” Clint suggested. “Things might go a whole lot smoother that way.”
    McGurn led his horse from the stable and immediately climbed into the saddle. “Agreed. Our orders are to attend this meeting and work out a truce. Only if that fails do we fire a shot. Understood?”
    The men sounded off as they emerged from the stable and mounted up. Clint brought Eclipse out last and noticed that McGurn was watching him intently. “I don’t get extra pay for getting myself killed,” Clint said. “I’d be happy with just watching you boys talk.”
    Nodding and pointing his horse’s nose toward the fort’s front gate, McGurn said, “All right, then. Let’s ride.”

SEVENTEEN
    The men rode with a purpose and McGurn led them as if they were headed into a war. After a few pleasantries were exchanged outside the fort, the group thundered to the north and didn’t let up their pace for hours. They didn’t push the horses to their limits, but they rode without a few words passing between them.
    The scout had bolted ahead of them before the rest of the horses could hit their stride and didn’t show his face again until well past noon. When he caught sight of the scout, McGurn motioned for the rest of the men and then pulled back on his reins. The group slowed as one, allowing the scout to catch up and fall into step alongside McGurn.
    â€œThey’re waiting for us about two miles ahead,” the scout said. He was breathing heavily enough to make it seem as if he’d done most of the running instead of his horse. “About a dozen of them.”
    McGurn nodded once and asked, “Are they setting up an ambush?”
    â€œI don’t think so. From what I could see, it looks like they’re just waiting. There’s a tent set up and everything.”
    Setting his jaw into a firm line, McGurn let out a breath and slowly looked along the horizon in front of him. “Biggs and I will ride ahead. I want the rest of you to spread out and follow us in. We’re supposed to be going in under the banner of peace, so I don’t want any guns drawn. Keep your hands in the open, but be ready to draw. Understand?”
    â€œYes, sir!” Biggs replied.
    The rest of the men simply nodded or grunted a few words. Clint belonged to the first