Skull Moon

Lauters made to turn away, then he launched himself at the marshal. Longtree was caught off guard. Lauters' fist caught him upside the head and he went down.

"Big mistake," Longtree said.

Lauters yelled something and reached down for Longtree. Longtree went back on his elbows and thrust out with his leg, catching the sheriff in the stomach with his boot. Lauters staggered back, but didn't go down. It was enough of a diversion to allow Longtree to get to his feet.

The sheriff came at him, spit running down his chin. "I'm going to kill you, breed! With my bare hands!"

Lauters swung roundhouse and Longtree dodged both blows, coming back instantly with two straight jabs to the face. Lauters fell back, looking shocked, blood running from his nose. With a war cry, he came on again, his punches wild. Longtree kneed him in the midsection, blocked a punch with his left and took another fist on the ear, spilling him sideways.

"All right, you injun bastard, now you're going to get yours," Lauters said, wading in again.

Longtree ducked two more roundhouse blows and smashed Lauters in the face with three lightning quick left jabs, followed by an upper cut that snapped the sheriff's face skyward and sent his hat pinwheeling through the air. Longtree kicked him in the stomach and spun around delivering an elbow to the bleeding wreck of his nose. Lauters went down on one knee, coughing and gasping, arms cradling his belly.

"You want some more?" Longtree asked him.

Lauters shook his head slowly and then drew his gun.

Longtree saw it coming, but there was no time to draw his own weapon. He threw himself sideways just as Lauters' Colt barked. The bullet ripped across Longtree's ribs with a raw and real explosion of pain that made black dots dance before his eyes. He hit the ground, clenching his teeth, unable to draw.

Lauters took aim, his face smeared with blood, his eyes rolling in their red-rimmed sockets.

"Sheriff!" Bowes screamed from the door. "Drop it!"

Lauters looked like some wild, insane thing. One of his eyes was swollen nearly closed and his face was painted up with streaks of red. He was puffy and red and panting. He looked from Bowes to Longtree, muttering under his breath.

"For the love of Christ, Sheriff!" Bowes said, pulling his own iron. "Drop it! Drop it now! You can't shoot a man who hasn't drawn…it's murder!"

Lauters grimaced. "I'm gonna kill that redskin bastard!"

Bowes had his pistol on Lauters. "Please, Sheriff… Bill, for goddsake drop it! I don't wanna shoot you!"

"Injun…just a goddamn half-breed-"

"He's a deputy United States Marshal, Sheriff! You'll hang!"

Lauters cursed and spat, dropping his gun. "Look what he did to me, goddammit!" Lauters cried. "Look what he did!"

Longtree moaned and sat up. "I came…to ask him questions…he attacked me…I only defended myself…"

Bowes helped him up. "All right, the both of you, we're going to see the doc. And I don't want any trouble."

"Your time's coming, breed," Lauters said, marching ahead of them.

Longtree swore at him.

"Shut up," Bowes said through clenched teeth. "The both of you."

32

Later, in the jailhouse, Bowes looked disgusted. "It ain't safe to have you two in the same town together," he said. "I stopped it today, Marshal, but tomorrow…"

Longtree took a drag from his cigarette. "He's out of control and you know it."

"Don't you tell me what I know!" Bowes slapped a hand flat on the desk and ground his teeth together. "I can't have this, Longtree, you know I can't. Goddamn, I've got enough trouble without nursemaiding the two of you. This fucking town is like one big cauldron of shit cooking up hot and filthy. It's gonna boil over, goddammit. See if it don't."

Longtree sighed and placed a hand lightly against his ribs. They hurt considerably, but the wound wasn't serious. Lauters' bullet had cut a trench there, but did no real damage. Longtree had been shot before and knew from experience that flesh wounds were often no less painful than taking a bullet in the belly.

"I'd get the hell out of here if I could," Longtree told him, "but it's not that simple. Not now."

"What are you getting at?"

"Do you really want to know?"

Bowes stared at him. "I wouldn't ask if I didn't."

Longtree butted his smoke and rested his hands in his lap. "All right, I'll tell you. Lauters flew into a rage when I asked him about the rustlers, about the lynching-"

"Do you blame him, man? He took a lot of heat about that." Bowes shook his head. "This town went crazy. It's something we'd all soon as forget."

Longtree nodded. "I understand that, Deputy. But why did he fly off the handle about the rustlers?"

"Same reason," Bowes said as if it was all too evident. "He's taken heat about that, too. He's never been able to stop the Gang of Ten."

"Do you think that's the reason?"

"I do."

Longtree said nothing. Bowes was unflinchingly loyal. You had to respect that in a man even when the loyalty in question was extended to a rat like Lauters.