Authors: Jon Sharpe
Six-Gun Gallows (26 page)
“You're a nervy cuss,” Clay conceded. “But, mister, we own this valley. You'd be wise to show this camp your dust.”
“I just did when I rode in,” Fargo said. “You'll see it again when I choose to leave. Ain't no man allowed to own one inch of territorial landânot until the government passes this Homestead Act. Now, all you boys just clear out of my gun sights, and drag your dead pard with you.”
“The worm will turn, Fargo,” Clay Munro vowed. “I'm going toâ”
“Clay!” Jack Slade cut him off, pointing at the dead man. “There's no education in the second kick of a mule.”
Clay took the point and avoided any threats.
“Fargo,” Slade said, “I don't believe for one minute you're here to find a brother. And you sure don't set up like no trapper. A man as gun handy and cool nerved as you could be mighty useful to the rainmaker in this valley, an hombre named Philly Denton. Let me know and I'll set up a meeting.”
“I'll keep that in mind,” Fargo said, still holding his Colt.
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