Where the Deer and the Antelope Play (Code of the West) by Stephen Bly Page A

through and hit that mirror on the far wall. But you know how it is. If it hits a bone or a vital organ, it could squirt out any old direction. Now, are you plannin’ on doin’ somethin’ dumb, Hank?”
    Hank’s weak, narrow eyes glared at Tap. “You ain’t got a chance in hades of gettin’ out of here.”
    “You don’t plan on stoppin’ me, do ya?”
    “I got a room full of friends. All I got to do is hollar.”
    “Make sure it’s good and loud ’cause the second you start screamin’, there’ll be a loud explosion from this Colt. I’d surely want them to understand what you was sayin’ since it would be your last words on earth.”
    “What are you doin’ here anyway? We didn’t take none of your cows, and you know it.” Hank glanced over his shoulder at the cocked .44 and Tap’s finger on the trigger. “Ease your finger back, mister. That thing could go off by accident.”
    “This Colt has never gone off by accident. Where’s the money from the dance hall?”
    “Did he say you was a rancher?” Half-Beard interrupted. “Where’s your place?”
    “Up on the Wyomin’ border. A nice, little spread between the Medicine Bows and the North Platte.”
    “He ain’t no rancher. He’s an Arizona gunslinger,” Hank replied. “He shot Jimmy Ray outright and intends to do the same to me, if he kin get away with it.”
    “An Arizona gunslinger?” Half-Beard choked back his drink, cleared his throat, and shoved his hat back. “You the one who shot Jordan Beckett when he had a gun drawn on ya?”
    “Yep.”
    Half-Beard rubbed his face with his right hand, revealing half a trigger finger missing. “Word around Denver is you took on Barranca and Dillard.”
    “They were fools.”
    “They were mean fools. Are you the one who’s marryin’ that yellow-haired girl?”
    “Yep.”
    Half-Beard took the big bottle by the neck and chugged down another swallow. “Hope you didn’t take no insult in what I said earlier about her. I surely didn’t mean to rile ya none, no, sir.”
    “No offense taken. I only thought about shootin’ you for a minute or two, but that passed quickly.”
    Half-Beard’s face flushed from a combination of fear and a lcohol. “I think maybe it’s time I should step outside and git me a little fresh air. That is, if it don’t inflame ya none.”
    “You’re goin’ to come back and play a little poker, aren’t you?” Tap inquired.
    “With the dance hall at Pingree Hill burned down, I was thinkin’ maybe I’ll ride up toward Leadville.”
    “Don’t go too far for a while. This old boy is one of them that burned April’s down.”
    “You don’t say.”
    “He’s lyin’. I was there tryin’ to put the fire out. Ask the girls. Ask that big piano player.”
    “That’s a good idea.” Tap kept his grip on the man’s coat. “Half-Beard, go down the line and see if you can find Stack Lowery. He’ll be the tallest man in Rico Springs. He’s the piano player from April’s.”
    “He’s here in town?” Hank gasped.
    “Yeah, isn’t that a romp? Me and Hank will just sit right here and wait for Stack. Then I’ll let the boys in the room decide what will happen to you. I don’t figure they’ll be real tickled to learn you destroyed the dance hall.”
    “I don’t believe you. You’re bluffin’ me. That piano player ain’t in Rico Springs.”
    “I believe him. I’ll send Lowery your way, mister.” Half-Beard stood, steadied himself, waddled toward the front door, and tossed a coin at the bartender.
    The roar of the crowd in the saloon subsided. Several men now stared their way.
    Tap looked up, smiled, and called out, “Me and ol’ Hank here is just settlin’ up some debts. Seems he took a little money that didn’t belong to him.”
    “He’s a filthy liar. I didn’t take nothin’ of his,” Hank shouted. “Go get Karl, boys. He’ll settle the whole thing.”
    “Mister,” a deep voice from across the room boomed, “Hank’s a regular around here.