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snapped her fan closed. “It must have been him Papa and the sheriff were talking about this morning. He’s some big federal marshal, with quite a reputation. Sheriff says he’s tracked down and brought in dozens of outlaws.”

      Kelsey rolled her eyes. “Oh, dear…”

      “How long will he be here?”

      “I’m trying to find out.”

      Mallory shrugged. “Maybe it’s better he’s staying at the hotel. At least that way you can keep an eye on him.”

      “That’s true.” Kelsey tapped her finger against her chin and paced the boardwalk. “We’ve got to do it. That payroll is too much money to let slip by. No one will expect another robbery this soon.”

      Mallory battsd her lashes. “I’ll pay a call on sweet young Ernie at the express office this morning, as usual.”

      “Good. Then drop by Duncan’s and let Holly know—”

      “Do I have to go talk to her?” Mailory’s lip crept out in a pout. “You know she grates on my nerves sometimes.”

      “I won’t set foot in Duncan’s General Store, not after what Nate Duncan did to my brother. Holly and I can’t speak in public, Mallory, and you know that.”

      “Oh, all right.” Mallory fumed silently for a moment.

      “Besides, if we get our way, Holly will be long gone from this town, which should make you very happy.”

      “Oh, to be gone from this place.” Mallory sighed wistfully, but then her eyes danced with mischief. “But if I were gone, how could I annoy Papa?”

      Kelsey drew in a deep breath. She couldn’t blame Mallory for the way she felt about her father or her involvement with the Schoolyard Boys. After the despicable things Morgan had done to her mother, Mallory took great pleasure in irritating Jack Morgan at every turn.

      “Find out when the stage is leaving. We’ll stop it at Waterbow Curve.”

      “What if the driver won’t stop this time?” Mallory asked. “We almost had to shoot at them yesterday. Remember?”

      Kelsey paced, tapping her finger against her chin again. “I’ve got an idea. You’ll need to pick up a few things, then you and Holly get out to Waterbow Curve as quick as you can.”

      “Where will you be?”

      A little grin tugged at her lips. “I’m going to take a stagecoach ride today.”

      

      Clay hurried out of the hotel and strode down the boardwalk, heat radiating through him. If that woman mentioned his trousers one more time, he wouldn’t be held responsible for what might happen. And the fact that she didn’t understand the effect her comments had on him was all the more maddening. Was she really that innocent? Or did she just think of him the way she would her brother, as she’d claimed in the alley last night? Either way, Clay decided, he’d spent too much time on the trail lately to be having conversations like that.

      “Hey, Chandler!” Billy Elder waved to him from the jail. “Sheriff wants to see you.”

      Clay crossed the street. Roy Bottom nodded when he entered the jail. “We’ve got a serious problem on our hands with those Schoolyard Boys. We’re recruiting you for the job.”

      “Hold on a minute, Sheriff. I’m here on federal business, not local problems.” The Dade gang were his prey, not a bunch of kids who needed a good spanking.

      “I don’t give a damn what you’re here for.” Jack Morgan rose from behind the sheriffs desk, his face drawn in tight, angry lines.

      “Who the hell are you?”

      Sheriff Bottom cleared his. throat. “This is Jack Morgan, one of Eldon’s biggest businessmen.”

      “Eldon’s biggest” he corrected. “It was my payroll that got taken when that stage was hit yesterday, Chandler—the fourth robbery in the last six weeks.”

      “Darnedest thing,” the sheriff mused. “Every time that stage gets hit, Morgan’s payroll for the mines is on board.”

      “I built this town, Chandler. I own it” Morgan curled his hands into fists at his sides. “The governor is a personal friend of mine. I’ve got eastern investors coming out in a few days, men who’ve got a lot of cash to invest and can make something of this town. Sheriff Bottoms here tells me you’re some big-shot marshal. I’m sending my payroll out again today. I want it protected.”

      Clay’s back stiffened “What’s that got to do with me?”

      Morgan pointed a finger at him. “I want you on that stage this afternoon.”

       Chapter Four

      Ben Tucker stood at the doorway of the livery when Clay walked up. “Leaving town so soon?”

      Clay shook his head. Though he’d like nothing better than to be on Scully Dade’s trail again, he’d gotten roped into riding shotgun for Jack Morgan’s payroll on the afternoon stage, delaying his own work for a while.

      “No, Ben. I’ll be staying on here for a few more days.” Clay glanced back into the stable. “Is Deuce around?”

      Ben’s brows pulled together. “What’s that boy done now?”

      “I need to talk to him.”

      “If he’s caused any more trouble, I’ll take a strap to him this time.”

      The image Ben’s words conjured up didn’t sit well with Clay. “He didn’t do anything. I’m after the Dade gang, and I think Deuce might have some information on their hideout.”

      “That boy,” Ben said, fuming. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him. When Miss Chalmers wouldn’t let him come to school anymore, I told his ma she had to keep him busy at home, but she couldn’t do anything with him. I never thought he’d end up in trouble with the law.”

      “I think he’s learned his lesson. Besides, working here with you ought to keep him busy enough.”

      “Maybe I should have done that from the start. But the boy’s so scrawny. If he hadn’t come into the world at the same time as my Jared, I might have doubted his ma’s virtue.” Ben shook his head. “I guess every litter has a runt.”

      “Is it all right if I talk with him?”

      “Sure thing, Marshal.” Ben led the way through the stable, past rows of stalls. The horses chewed quietly on grain, occasionally pawing the soft earth or uttering a nicker, content in the barn’s cool interior.

      Ben stopped at the open door to the feed room. Barrels and sacks of grain lined one wall. A rickety desk sat against the other; papers peeked from the half-open drawers, and ledgers littered the top.

      “Deuce! Get out here, boy!”

      A second later, he appeared at the door. Perspiration dampened his forehead, shafts of straw clung to his clothes and stuck out of his hair, dirt smudged his face. His breathing was heavy and labored.

      Deuce glanced at Clay, then his father. His eyes widened. “I didn’t do nothing. I swear, Pa, I didn’t.”

      “The marshal just wants to talk to you, boy. And as soon as you get done, I want you to take that mare back over to the hotel. Understand? Then come straight back. You’ve got a lot more chores to get done before the afternoon.”

      Glay thought the boy might fall over any minute, from fear and exhaustion. “I don’t want to keep Deuce from his chores. I’ll walk along with him while he takes the horse to the hotel and we’ll talk then.”

      “All

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