Downstairs, Bragg was busy arranging for all the woman and children to be brought to the saloon until the search was completed. Men left in groups of four to round them all up while those remaining reluctantly allowed themselves to be sworn in as deputies. Verna leaned over and whispered something to Paul, and the big bartender slipped away quietly to the kitchen.

"What're you up to Verna?" Ethan had noticed the by play and moved over to her side.

"I believe Austin's other mayoral duties had to do with Miss June. I just sent Paul to fetch her back before Austin gets out of here."

"Creepin' Jesus, that man is nothin' more than a- a-"

"Sex machine?"

Bragg looked at her in surprise. "Well I never heard that one before but- well, yeah, a sex machine."

"Austin's just a man who refuses to deny the things that give him the most pleasure." Verna poked him in the ribs. "You should take a leaf out of his book sometime Ethan."

"You've just got a passel of these witty sayin's, haven't you?" He gave her a gritty smile and went back to the anxious crowd milling around Tyrone by the door.

"Everything under control?"

"Mostly. Them fellas out there will be with you. I've got this lot."

"What do you mean, mostly?"

"Mister Torrance won't be sworn in, he's goin' lookin' on his own."

"Hell's fire!" Bragg tugged at his moustache in annoyance. "You know, I almost wish he'd find the devil and put him down. Sure would make all of this a lot easier."

"Careful what you wish for sheriff. Remember, this is the man that bested Gershwin Tate."

"Yeah, well, I guess we'd better find him first then."

"I don't think it's gonna be easy takin' him alive."

"Then don't make it hard. Shoot him to pieces if you like . . . just don't kill 'im."

*****

"Paul! What're you doin' here?" Orin closed his ledger and came out from behind the counter. He moved over in front of him then stepped back, looking up uncertainly at the big man.

"Come for Miss June."

"Oh, she's stayin' for lunch with the mayor. He asked me to order them somethin'"

Paul's massive head tilted forward and his dark eyes fixed Orin like a bug on a pin. "Miss June's coming home with me."

"But- but Paul, now you can't—" The huge hand effectively muffled Orin's objection, smothering his face and easing him gently out of the way. He stood back, and heaving a huge sigh, watched as the giant strode up the carpeted stairs three at a time. "Blast it anyways." He said aloud. "I ain't no nursemaid. Let the mayor deal with it."

*****

Cable Royce winced painfully as he spat a loose clot of blood through his purpled, swollen lips, into the basin. The woman's head butt had caused the empty tooth socket to hemorrhage and his tongue would not let it alone. Royce had not shaved since his arrival in town and the stubble of a new beard sprouting around the still pink scars from the wood splinters, gave him a wild, terrifying appearance. The split in his lip was dirty looking, pushing the swelling up to one side in an ugly sneer. He leaned on the washstand shaking his head over the damage his body had suffered in the past few weeks. The strip of shirt that had covered the gouges on his thigh had been rinsed clean, and was now covering the stinging furrows on his side.

He limped sorely to the window, still stiff and aching from the ordeal of his escape the night of the storm. Outside on the street he could see a large group of men milling about the front of the saloon, and the sheriff pointing up and down the street. Royce knew immediately what was happening, and cursed silently at the arrogant confidence that had kept him around town longer than was wise. As quickly as his aches and pains would allow, he found a clean pair of coarse trousers and a fresh shirt, kicking the stiff, mud caked pile of clothes he had worn before, into the corner. His boots were still damp from cleaning, and difficult to pull on, opening the cuts on his chest as he strained to jam his feet into them.

He strapped on the twin revolvers and snatched up the fancy, silver decorated carbine, all compliments of Grisham Tate, and cracked open the door, peering into the hallway. He could hear what sounded like an argument from the lobby, and he slipped over to the railing for a peek, just catching a passing glimpse of Paul's boulder-like head gliding along the second floor hallway. Curious as to why the huge bartender might be in the hotel, he sneaked down the stairs, listening as Paul knocked and entered the mayor's office.

"Miss Verna want's you back home— now."

"I'm havin' lunch with Mayor Greeves." Miss June answered, with a hint of arrogance.

"Mayor's too busy for lunch today, you're coming with me."

"I don't have to go if I don't want to, 'sides, he promised me."

Cable stole silently along the hallway, his eyes glued to the partially exposed mountain of Paul's back. Beyond the bartender, he could just see the bottom of the woman's legs, sitting on a long sofa. Edging up to the door, Cable decided that this might be his way out of town. He would dispose of the bartender and use the woman as a hostage to make his escape.

"There's no arguin' Miss June, Miss Verna sent me to fetch you back right away. The sheriff is leadin' the folks in a search for the man who killed Alysha."

Cable saw the legs twitch and heard the woman's startled gasp. "Alysha! Killed?"

"Right in her own room in the saloon. Now please Miss June, come with me." Paul moved away from the door and Cable made his move.

*****

"Please don't tell my ma, sheriff."

"Don't fret son, I won't let on. You're sure about this now?"

Young Daniel nodded his head eagerly, his eyes darting through the saloon door, searching for his mother. "You kin see for yourself, there's boot prints all around the back door of the hotel and mud inside on the hallway."

"I should take you over my knee myself for takin' chances like that young man." Bragg held his face rigid, suppressing the urge to smile at the lad's guilty enthusiasm. "If this all works out, you come and see me later, we'll settle up, and your ma don't have to know. Now git inside and stay there." Young Daniel scurried through the door, burying himself in the crowded room while Bragg hollered down the street to Tyrone who was directing his group of searchers.

"What's up?"

"Go pick somebody to be in charge. I want you with me for a bit."

Tyrone studied the set of Bragg's face, nodded shortly, and ran back to the waiting group of men. As he hurried back up the street, he spotted Wesley Torrance striding up the opposite side toward the hotel.

"There goes our friend off on his own." Tyrone lifted his chin toward Wesley.

"Damn no!" Bragg grabbed Tyrone's arm and dragged him toward the hotel. "Torrance! Hold it right there!" The two lawmen scooted across the street and came to a halt, flanking Wesley.

"I told the marshal here I ain't gonna be sworn in." He looked at the sheriff stiff faced.

"Just listen to me a minute." Bragg led the two men around to the side of the hotel, out of sight of the street. "I think our man is in there," he indicated the hotel, "but I want to check somethin' out the back first." Wesley started to move and Bragg clamped his big hand on his arm. "You want to be pig headed and do this, fine . . . but you do it my way or so help me I'll slap you in the jail right now."

Wesley's cheeks burned as he locked stares with the sheriff. "I'll do it your way— for now." He grudgingly relented.

Bragg released his arm and let out a sigh. "Okay then." He explained what he had learned from young Daniel and led the men around to the hotel's back door.

"Looks like the kid was right, plenty of boot prints alright." Tyrone fingered a dried stain on the surface of the clapboard siding. "I'll bet this is blood."

Bragg took of his hat and wiped a sheen of sweat from his brow. "Okay. It should be empty, except for maybe Orin. I figure he must be in one of the upper rooms. Tyrone and I will go up and check each one. You stay in the lobby and cover our backs." Wesley started to protest but the sheriff's harsh look silenced him and he gave a curt nod. "If he gets by us, he's all yours. And if you run into him first . . ." The sheriff let the words hang, their meaning perfectly clear.