Further Adventures of James Butler Hickok (9781101601853) Read Free

enough,” Clint said. “You’re lucky that gun misfired.”
    â€œYeah, I didn’t move fast enough either,” Hickok said. “For men like you and me, that usually means the end. Unless you’re lucky.”
    â€œYou think there’ll be trouble with the Army?”
    â€œI’ve helped the Army more times than I can count,” Hickok said. “Don’t worry. I’ll work things out with them.”
    â€œI can testify for you if you want,” Clint said.
    â€œForget it,” Hickok said. “You’re passin’ through, right?”
    â€œThat’s right.”
    â€œSo,” Hickok said, “just keep passin’. But I owe you.”
    â€œNo problem,” Clint said. “You ever need any more help, just give me a holler.”
    â€œI’ll do that,” Hickok said with a smile. “I been known to get myself in a tight spot or two. Be nice to be able to call on a gun I can count on.”
    â€œYou got it.”
    â€œThat wagon across from the saloon yours?”
    â€œIt’s mine.”
    â€œSo the Gunsmith, it ain’t just a name?”
    â€œNo,” Clint said, “I really am a gunsmith.”
    â€œMust come in handy.”
    â€œIt has, a time or two,” Clint said.
    â€œLook,” Hickok said, “if you ain’t in a rush, I know a small place with good steaks.”
    â€œNo rush,” Clint said, “but don’t you want to get out of town?”
    â€œNaw,” Hickok said. “This badge means I got to be around here from time to time. Here, Topeka. The trouble with those soldiers ain’t gonna change my job. I told you, I got friends in the Army.” They finished their beers. “Come on, a steak sounds good right now.”
    â€œOkay,” Clint said, “but I’ve got to pick up some supplies I ordered first.”
    â€œNo problem.”
    * * * 
    Hickok led Clint to a small café. They got a table in the back and ordered two steak dinners. Clint had been in town less than an hour and had found trouble already. He was wondering if he was tempting fate, but who could refuse a steak with Wild Bill Hickok?
    They talked while they ate, mostly Hickok telling stories. He was only a few years older than Clint, but he had been Wild Bill longer than Clint had been the Gunsmith. He had stories, and he had advice, and the two formed a lasting friendship right there and then . . .

FIVE
    D ENVER, C OLORADO T HE PRESENT
    When Clint returned to the hotel, he found a message waiting for him at the desk from Talbot Roper. He wanted Clint to meet him for dinner at the Dakota Steak House at six.
    Clint looked around the lobby, didn’t see the writer, Silvester, waiting for him, but there was something else for him at the desk.
    â€œMr. Silvester asked me to give you this, sir,” the clerk said. It was a leather briefcase containing a book and a sheaf of papers. Silvester’s book on Jesse James and some handwritten chapters on Wild Bill Hickok. The young man had written quite a bit of his new book already.
    â€œThank you.”
    Clint took it to his room and read until he left to meet Roper for dinner.
    * * * 
    Roper was waiting at a table when Clint got there.
    â€œLook at you,” Clint said as they shook hands. “That suit would cost a cowboy three months’ wages.”
    â€œI’m not a cowboy,” Roper said. “I’ve got to look good for my clients. Good to see you, Clint.”
    â€œYou, too, Tal.”
    They sat down, told a waiter to bring them two steak dinners and beer.
    â€œWhat brings you to Denver?”
    â€œWhat brings me anywhere?” Clint asked. “I’ve got to be somewhere. Thought I’d come and say hello. What have you been up to?”
    The two men exchanged news of events that had transpired in their lives since they’d last seen each other, pausing only to let the waiter set