Then I observed that most people are motivated to success by their envy of their neighbors. But this, too, is meaningless, like chasing the wind.”
–Ecclesiastes 4:4 (NLT)
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I walked through the saloon doors then took a step to my left to let my eyes adjust and so I could survey the room. It was crowded and much warmer than outside though most of the customers had their coats or jackets on; it also smelled like beer, sweat, and vomit. In my experience that was the norm unless the bartender and owner mopped the floors regularly.
Now to find McGinnis. I was at a disadvantage not knowing what he looked like. As my eyes gathered in the customers I noticed a man to my left that was watching me. One of McGinnis’. A slick-looking man was at the bar wearing his gun low; that must be the Kid, and the table in the back next to him were three men, the best dressed I figured was McGinnis.
It was time to get this started. Heading towards the bar, not many paid attention to me, I was just another customer, so I took notice of those who did. So far, I had counted four men who most likely were his minions.
“Whiskey?” the barkeep asked as I stepped up to the bar.
“McGinnis,” came my sharp reply. It sort of took him back and he had a puzzled look on his face as if I was asking for a particular brand of whiskey. I stared hard at the man and repeated, “McGinnis!”
The Kid standing at the end of the bar took notice moving to the corner. His hands were low, near his gun.
The bartender finally answered, “Who should I tell is asking for him?”
“United States Deputy Marshal Miles Forrest,” I barked, turning slightly toward the Kid and the table where I thought McGinnis was sitting.
“Get out lawdog,” came a menacing voice which almost made me chuckle. It was the Kid, now moving away from the bar.
“If you’re Malloy, I’ll deal with you after I arrest McGinnis.” That made him sneer, like the real tough man he thought he was. It ranckled him that I paid him little mind.
His hand moved slightly closer to the butt of his gun. “Arrest for what?”
“Sonny-boy, move aside if he is sitting behind you I’d hate for you to get in my way.” His face was turning red; good, I wanted him angry. It was then that the three men at the table had moved slightly. I wished the Kid wasn’t standing there, I could take all three of them out with the Greener, but as it was the Kid would have to come first.
“Big man, standing there with a shotgun!” snarled the Kid.
I moved the Greener to my left hand, and moved my jacket so I could have freer access to my pistol. “If you’re that sneaky Kid who only shoots people in the back, I might as well deal with your first. You’re under arrest for the attempted murder of Sheriff Charlie Gold.”
A voice from the table piped up, “I thought you said that sheriff was dead.”
Not taking my eyes from Malloy I answered, “Not hardly. Now unbuckle your gunbelt or go for it,” I paused, then added, “Do you have a name besides Kid, I always like to know who I’m sendin’ to their Maker.”
I was half expecting it. He didn’t reply, but went for his gun. He was fast, too fast for his shot went wide and I heard a grunt from a man in the room, while I drew my pistol and shot the Kid through the breadbasket, splitting his breastbone in half. His eyes widened and that was the last expression he would ever make. One of the men at the table pulled his gun, but was hindered by the table. I shot him twice before he had leveled his gun above the table. It was time to make a switch. Quickly I holstered my pistol then brought the Greener up to bear.
Foolish! Both men at the table fired. I felt the sting of a bullet, but I cut loose with one barrel, instantly killing one man and knocking the other man, McGinnis, over backward.
I saw the bartender move to bring a shotgun up from under the bar. My other barrel cut loose on him, knocking him back against the counter behind him breaking several bottles. The other pieces of buckshot did a job on more bottles and the grand mirror on the wall.
I knew there was at least one more man in the room. With the shotgun empty I dropped it to bring my pistol up again. A man shot, the bullet whizzing past me hitting the bar. My pistol blasted, once, twice, the second bullet hitting the man. I only had one more shell in the gun; I hoped there weren’t any others.
It was still, so I reached down to pick up the Greener and reloaded it. With that done, I shouted, “Anyone else want to join this little circus?” There were no takers, so I continued, “If not, I’d be obliged if all of you would be kind enough to put both hands on the table. If I see anyone not complyin’ I’ll figure that you are against me, and you and whoever is sitting next to you will feel a load of lead.”
From what I could see all complied with my wishes. I half-turned to walk over to where McGinnis was on the floor…