Simon Hawke - The Six Gun Solution

“Now you take most men.” he continued, “they get a little too much whiskey, they step out of line and usually all it takes is buffaloing one or two of ’em to put a stop to things, Man wakes up in jail in the morning with his head sore from too much drink and from a good blow with a six-gun barrel, he understands how things are He pays his fine and says he’s sorry he got drunk and caused a little trouble and he goes his way with no hard feelin’s. None on my part, either But some of them tend to be mean-spirited and those are usually the real troublemakers. You need to come down real hard on them. You have to keep the peace. It’s what you’re paid for. Of course, every now and then, you get some cowboy who really ties one on and starts stalkin’ through the streets, braggin’ about how he’s goin’ to face down the local lawman. Clay Allison did something like that once. Well, so long as the gent isn’t causing any real trouble, then you just keep out of his way and before too long, he’ll get tired of it and go sleep it off somewhere.

“Now in Tombstone, the situation’s a bit different. It’s a boomtown and you get a lot of people comin’ through. You get your businessmen and speculators, you get your greenhorns, you get your cowboys, you get your preachers and your gamblers and your bunco artists… Wherever you find men makin’ money, you find other men ready to separate ’em from it. We got us a sizable bunch of rustlers up in Galeyville and a few of ’em have ranches just outside of town. Many of ’em were here when Tombstone was no more than a few tents and empty lots, but now they get attracted by the money in this town and a few of ’em don’t mind takin’ a few shortcuts to get their hands on some of it.”

“You’re referring to the stagecoach robberies that you’ve been having lately?” Lucas said.

“That, for one.” said Wyatt. “Once a man takes it in his head to steal some stock, he hasn’t got far to go to holdin’ up a stage. And he can make a lot more money that way. Then there’s claim jumpin’. We’ve had our share of that, as well. Every now and then we have a shootin’. That’s why we have an ordinance against carryin’ guns in town, though that doesn’t stop some people.”

“I heard about some shootings you had here a little while ago,” said Lucas. prompting him.

“That’s right. Had two right here in this saloon,” said Wyatt. “Matter of fact, that young fella playin’ cards right ova there was the one that did it.”

“You’re talking about the Montana Kid?” asked Lucas, turning around. Which one is he’?”

“The one with the light blond hair, wearin’ it long, like a plainsman.”

“So that’s him, is it?” Lucas said. “He looks very young.”

“He’s young, all right,” said Wyatt, “but Billy the Kid was even younger when he killed his first man. You don’t need hair on your chin to pull a trigger, mister.”

“No. I guess you don’t, at that,” said Lucas. “But I was referring to the murders of those three miners out at their claim a little while back.”

Wyatt Earp frowned. “Which three miners is that?”

‘Let’s see, I think I wrote their names down somewhere.” Lucas said, glancing through his notebook as if he needed to refresh his memory. “Ah, here we are. Their names were Ben Summers, Josh Billings and Joe McEnery.”

Wyatt Earp was still frowning. “You sure you got that right, mister? This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

Lucas looked up at him sharply. “It would have been about a couple of weeks back,” he said. “Three men found shot dead out at their claim. Very mysterious circumstances. Apparently. their murderers were never found.”

“Seems to me like their bodies were never found, either.” Wyatt said. “I think you must have got your information wrong, mister, or someone was feeedin’ you a story. I’m not aware of any men by those names bein’ murdered.”

Lucas stared at hint, completely taken aback. “Ben Summers, Josh Billings and Joe McEnery? Those names mean nothing to you?”

Wyatt shook his head. “Never heard of ’em. Where’d you get this story?”

Lucas shook his head. “Why. I. I’m not exactly sure. I think I must have heard it in the bar over at the hotel. But I suppose I might have got it wrong somehow. You’re sure those names mean nothing to you? Three men found dead in very mysterious circumstances?”

Wyatt smiled. “Sounds to me like somebody was pullin’ your leg. You’re liable to get some of that around here. City slicker like yourself, out to write about the Wild frontier, folks are liable to string you along a bit. You’ll have to watch out for that sort of thing.”

Lucas was thoroughly confused. Why would Earp deny any knowledge of the killings? It made no sense, unless he wasn’t anxious to have some reporter from back Fast writing about a case he couldn’t solve. But then, surely he’d hear about it from others in town. Maybe it was just Earp’s way of not wanting to talk about it.

Well… I guess maybe I might’ve got taken in a bit.” said Lucas. “I did tell people I was looking for interesting stories about life on the frontier. Somebody might have just made that one up to get a few drinks out of me.”

“You offer drinks for stories, mister, you’ll get more than your share; said Earp, with a smile, “and most of ’em right fanciful, to boot. But I don’t guess that really makes much difference, does it” You writers like to spice things up a bit. I don’t suppose it does much harm.”

“No, I… I don’t suppose it does,” Lucas replied, still mystified by Earp’s curious denial. “But I was wondering.-”

“The stage’s been robbed!” someone shouted.

Wyatt was on his feet in an instant, rushing over to the man.

“What happened?” he demanded.

“They shot Bud Philpot! Bob got the stage back, but Bud’s dead and one of the passengers was shot. They didn’t get the silver shipment.”

“I’m goin’ to need a posse!” Wyatt called out, quickly taking charge. “Lem, you run down and get Virg and Morg. Where’s Bob at?”

“He’s outside with the stage,” said the man who came running in with the news. “He got banged up some, but he’s okay.”

“You need some help. Marshal’” Neilson asked.

“I can use a good gun, Kid. Come along.”

“Marshal Earp!” said Lucas. “I’d like to ride along, if I

“A posse’s no place for a greenhorn, mister. No offense.”

“I can ride,” said Lucas. “I know how to shoot, too. I used to be a soldier. I’d like to help.”

“All right, if you feel you’re up to it, we’ll get you a rifle. Come along.”

Still no sign of recognition from Neilson, thought Lucas. All right, he’d wait and see. They went out into the street and hurried a short distance down the block, to where the stage had pulled up. Sheriff Behan was already there, along with several other men. A crowd was gathering rapidly. Wyatt pushed his way through to the man at the center of attention, the shotgun guard, Bob Paul. He was covered with dust and his clothing was disheveled

“What happened, Bob?” asked Wyatt.

“I was just akin’ him that,” said Sheriff Behan, irritably. Lucas noticed a look of dislike between the two men.

“They got us a short way out of Contention.” Paul said. “Bud was havin’ stomach cramps, so I told him I could drive for a bit till they eased up. We’d pulled over and traded places, but we hadn’t gotten more than a few miles north on the road to Benson when they hit us. We’d just gone across a dry wash and started up a hill when a masked man stepped out into the road and shouted. ‘Hold!’ Next thing we knew, there was a hunch of ’em around us, three, four, maybe more. I couldn’t tell, it all happened so fast. Bud went for the scattergun and they shot him. The horses-bolted and then they were all shootin”. I lost the reins and had to climb down to retrieve ’em. Almost fell off into the road,