Standoff in Santa Fe Read Free

said.
    Clint sipped his beer, studied the room looking for friends or foes. He finally spotted Bat Masterson sitting at a poker table with a stack of chips in front of him.
    â€œBat’s here,” Clint said.
    â€œWhere?” Reeves asked.
    â€œThere, second poker table.”
    Reeves took a look.
    â€œSeems to be doin’ okay.”
    â€œYeah,” Clint said, “he tends to do that.”
    â€œWanna say hello?”
    â€œNot while he’s playing,” Clint said. “Best to wait until he’s done.”
    â€œYour call. Think he’s seen us?”
    â€œOh,” Clint said, turning back to lean on the bar, “he’s seen us.”
    *   *   *
    Bat continued to play poker for an hour before pushing his chips in to cash out. He tipped his hat to the other players, and Clint knew he was thanking everyone for their contributions. It was the kind of thing that made other players want to shoot Bat Masterson sometimes.
    Clint knew where Bat Masterson would be heading for next so he ordered a fresh beer and was waiting with it in his hand.
    â€œBless you,” Bat said, accepting the beer and moving up between Reeves and Clint. He put the beer down on the bar and shook hands with both of them.
    â€œNice to see you boys,” Bat said. “I was hopin’ somebody I liked would show up.”
    â€œWhen did you get here?” Clint asked.
    â€œYesterday morning,” Bat said. “I’ve had time for a few hands.”
    At that point a saloon employee came up to Bat and said, “Here’s your money, Mr. Masterson.” It took him a few moments to count out all the bills.
    â€œThank you very much, Leroy,” Bat said. He gave the man a big tip, and tucked the rest away in his jacket pocket.
    â€œA few hands?” Reeves asked.
    â€œA few hands, but a lot of money,” Bat said, picking up his beer again. “How about you boys? When did you all get into town?”
    â€œLast night,” Reeves said.
    â€œToday,” Clint said.
    â€œSeen anybody else?”
    Reeves shook his head and Clint said, “I’ve just seen Bass—and you.”
    â€œI was wonderin’ if Wyatt was comin’ in,” Bat said. “They had a set-to a while back, you know.”
    â€œA lot of people did,” Clint said. “I bet this town’s going to be full of them.”
    â€œThey shoulda had somebody at the town line collectin’ hardware,” Reeves said. “The air around here could be full of hot lead at any minute.”
    â€œYou’re right,” Bat said, smiling. “It should be fun, at that.”
    The batwing doors opened at that point, and sometime lawman, sometime railroad detective Heck Thomas walked in. He spotted the three of them and came walking over.
    â€œAnd the fun’s just beginning,” Clint agreed, wondering if any or all of them were on good terms with Heck Thomas.

FIVE
    â€œClint.”
    Thomas extended his hand and Clint shook it. He knew he was on good terms with Heck. They were friends.
    â€œBat.” Heck shook Bat’s hand. That left Reeves.
    â€œBass Reeves,” Heck Thomas said to the big black lawman. “It’s been a while.”
    â€œHello, Heck.”
    The two big men stared at each other for a few moments, then they shook hands.
    â€œI could use a drink,” Heck said.
    â€œBelly up to the bar, as they say,” Bat said.
    The room had suddenly grown quiet. Even the piano player had stopped banging on the keys.
    Heck looked around. The four of them were now the center of attention.
    â€œGo back to what you were doin’!” Heck shouted at the staring crowd.
    After a moment of hesitation, men turned their heads away, the games started up again, and then lively, off-key piano music resumed in the background.
    â€œHave a beer,” Clint said, handing Heck a cold one. “Guess you’re here for the same reason we