CHAPTER FOUR

 

Carson Springs was only half the size of Laramie. The only buildings there were just what was needed to make a town: a sheriff’s office, a bank, a church, a school house, a general store, a restaurant, and a saloon. Jess had seen many towns like this. Saloons with too many drunken cowboys looking for a good time; buildings with false fronts so they weren’t what they really seemed to be; a main street that was so filled with mud and pot holes Jess was afraid to make his horse trot.

 

Flies swarmed over horse manure and dog dung which lay like puddles throughout the street.  Though Jess seemed to keep his eyes focused straight ahead he caught every movement along the boardwalk. He saw no familiar faces. Still he rode with his rawhide thong off his revolver, ready to draw if need be.  Jess tied his horse to the hitching post outside the saloon. 

 

Though the sun was high in the sky, inside the saloon was dark. There were a few tables, most empty. Jess moved quickly to the long bar. 

 

“Whiskey,” Jess ordered.

 

The bartender stood patiently, not moving to help Jess.

 

Jess frowned as he tossed a coin at him.

 

The bartender caught the coin, then tested it by biting it with his teeth. The tall man at last smiled. “Whiskey it is, stranger.”

 

Jess welcomed the drink by gulping it down.

 

The bartender laughed. “I’d say you been on the trail for awhile.”

 

“It feels good to wash down the dust,” Jess replied with a nod.  “I’m looking for someone.”

 

“I know most everyone that lives around these parts. Who?”

 

“Jack Phillips.”

 

The bartender scrutinized Jess closely. “I should have figured.”

 

Jess frowned. “Meaning?”

 

“What’s your name, stranger? Is it one I’ve heard of?”

 

Jess’ frown widened. “Harper. Jess Harper.”

 

The bartender’s face lost all color.  He backed away from the counter.  “Look I don’t want no trouble.”

 

“Trouble?” Confusion outlined Jess’s tanned face.

 

The bartender moved to the other end of the counter, away from Jess.

 

“Wait a minute! I want another drink.”

 

The bartender shook his head no. “Sorry, we’re all out.”

 

“What?” Jess’ temper lit. “Then what’s in all those bottles?” He pointed at the shelf lined with whiskey and beer bottles.

 

Before the bartender could reply, another voice was heard. “Harper.” The voice was soft but it carried throughout the saloon.

 

Jess’ body tensed. In the mirror, he could see the man.

 

The man standing behind him resembled a snake; tall, skinny, and deadly. His bony hand was already hovering over his revolver. 

 

Jess turned slowly to face the man, while at the same time Jess eased his hand close to the butt of his holstered gun.

 

“Any time, Harper,” the man challenged as he stepped back. His legs parted and his hand open and closed over his revolver. 

 

“Do I know you?” Jess studied the stranger’s face, looking for some sign of recognition.

 

The man smiled. His teeth were stained a dark yellow.  “No, but I know you. You shouldn’t have come to Carson Springs. You ain’t welcome here.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Don’t play games with me!  Now I’m calling you out. Either draw or die like a coward.”

 

Jess didn’t have time to ask another question for the man’s hand dropped. Jess’ hand dropped faster.

 

 

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