The Gunsmith 385 Read Online Free Page B

the drawers were unlocked, he put the key on top of the cabinet and then started opening them. When he opened the bottom drawer, he saw a cash box.
    â€œWell—” he said, straightening, but in that moment he saw Rick Hartman spring at him and he fired . . .
    Out in the saloon they heard the shot and the bartender started to run for the office door.
    â€œHey, hold it!” Davis yelled.
    Kane didn’t wait, though. He pushed off the wall, drew his gun, and fired at the bartender’s back.
    Â * * * 
    Tom Barry came out of the office, carrying a fistful of cash.
    â€œWhat happened?” Hastings asked.
    â€œWe gotta go,” Barry said. “He came at me and I hadda stop him.” He stopped short when he saw the bartender. “What happened here?”
    â€œHe started running toward the office,” Hastings said. “Kane stopped him.”
    â€œIs that all the cash there is?” Davis asked.
    â€œI stuffed some in my pockets,” Barry said. “Don’t know how much we got, but we got to get out of here. We can count it later.”
    They ran for the front door, opened it, and ran out. O’Brien was holding the reins of all the horses, who were skittish.
    â€œWhat happened?” he yelled.
    â€œWe gotta go!” Barry said.
    They started to mount their horses.
    â€œHey, hold it!” someone yelled.
    They turned and saw a man wearing a badge running toward them with his gun out.
    â€œKill ’im!” Barry shouted.
    Hastings was still holding the Greener, so he turned it on the lawman and pulled both triggers.
    Â * * * 
    Clint was only halfway through his steak and eggs when he heard what sounded like shots. He looked around, but none of the other diners seemed to notice. Even the waiter went about his business.
    Then somebody definitely let go with both barrels of a shotgun and everybody noticed.
    Clint jumped up from his seat and was out the door in seconds, but then he stopped.
    Where had the shots come from?
    â€œIt’s over by the saloon,” someone yelled.
    â€œWhich saloon?” Clint shouted.
    â€œRick’s!”
    Clint started running, got to the front of the saloon in time to see five horsemen riding off. They rounded a corner and were gone before he could get off a shot.
    He looked around for a horse, but there wasn’t one. It was early, and there were no horses on the street.
    Just a man lying in the dirt.
    Clint ran over, saw that it was the local lawman. It took only a moment to determine that the man was dead, cut down by a shotgun. He looked at the saloon, saw the door sitting open.
    Jesus, he thought, Rick.
    He ran for the saloon.
    As he entered the saloon, he saw the bartender lying on the floor, bleeding from a wound in his back. He looked around, but didn’t see Rick. However, the door to Rick’s office was open, so he ran to it and entered. He found his friend on the floor, bleeding from a chest wound.
    Alive.
    He heard someone come to the door behind him.
    â€œGet the doctor!” he shouted. “Fast.”
    He looked around for something to use to stanch the flow of blood, finally just took off his own shirt and pressed it to the wound.
    He was still holding it there when the doctor arrived.

NINE
    Clint was waiting in the outer room of the doctor’s office while the sawbones worked on Rick, who was still breathing when they got him there.
    â€œYou saved his life by stopping the blood,” the doctor said. “Now it’s my turn.”
    â€œThe sheriff and bartender are dead,” Clint said. “We need you to keep Rick alive so we can find out who did this.”
    â€œPlus,” the doctor said, “he’s your friend.”
    â€œYes,” Clint said, “there’s that.”
    He was still sitting there in the third hour when the door opened and several men walked in. He recognized the mayor, Seth Jackson. The others must have been