Longtree caught up with Lauters at the livery.
"I'd like a word with you, Sheriff," he said.
Lauters grumbled. "I ain't got nothing to say to you, Marshal. Just get out of my way."
But Longtree wasn't moving. He was blocking the door. "I wanna talk about the rustling ring. The Gang of Ten."
Lauters wiped his mouth with the back of his fist. "That's a local problem," he said calmly. "It's none of your damn business. You came to stop these killings, so get to it and keep your nose out of the rest."
Longtree hadn't expected cooperation. It was the farthest thing from his mind. The only reason he'd tracked down Lauters was to put him on the spot, to hammer him with questions about the ring and the lynching and their possible connection. And see just what kind of reaction he would get.
"I'm thinking, Sheriff, that these murders and the ring are connected."
Lauters licked his lips. "If you think that you're just a damn stupid breed like I thought all along."
"I wanna know about the Gang of Ten."
Lauters' colorless face was touched with red now. "About all you're going to know is a bullet in the belly if you don't get out of my way."
Longtree ignored him. "I've been hearing talk that these rustlers might be mixed up in a lynching a year back."
"Out of my way, you sonofabitch." Lauters' eyes were bulging now.
"Folks are saying you might know more than you're telling."
Lauters' hand was on the butt of his gun. "You little-"
"Why'd you send your deputy away that night?"
Lauters was trembling. "Shut up! Shut up or I'll kill you! I swear to God I will!"
Longtree had to suppress a grin now. Not because he liked any of this, but because he was pushing Lauters' buttons and the man was reacting accordingly. Longtree had been a lawman for too long not to see that the sheriff was hiding a few things.
Then the ultimate question: "Were you involved with the rustlers?"
Lauters took one step forward. "You're a dead man, Longtree…"
Longtree pulled his coat aside so the pistol on his right hip was exposed. It wasn't a threat…just a warning. "If you're planning to shoot me, Sheriff, you'd best think again."
Lauters glared at him. There was a tic now in his lower lip. His huge hand was shaking on the butt of his Colt.
Longtree stood his ground. "Go ahead, Sheriff, slap that leather. If this is how you deal with your problems, then I guess all my questions have been answered, haven't they?"
Lauters made to turn away, then he launched himself at the marshal. Longtree was caught off guard. Lauters' fist caught him upside the head and he went down.
"Big mistake," Longtree said.
Lauters yelled something and reached down for Longtree. Longtree went back on his elbows and thrust out with his leg, catching the sheriff in the stomach with his boot. Lauters staggered back, but didn't go down. It was enough of a diversion to allow Longtree to get to his feet.
The sheriff came at him, spit running down his chin. "I'm going to kill you, breed! With my bare hands!"
Lauters swung roundhouse and Longtree dodged both blows, coming back instantly with two straight jabs to the face. Lauters fell back, looking shocked, blood running from his nose. With a war cry, he came on again, his punches wild. Longtree kneed him in the midsection, blocked a punch with his left and took another fist on the ear, spilling him sideways.
"All right, you injun bastard, now you're going to get yours," Lauters said, wading in again.
Longtree ducked two more roundhouse blows and smashed Lauters in the face with three lightning quick left jabs, followed by an upper cut that snapped the sheriff's face skyward and sent his hat pinwheeling through the air. Longtree kicked him in the stomach and spun around delivering an elbow to the bleeding wreck of his nose. Lauters went down on one knee, coughing and gasping, arms cradling his belly.
"You want some more?" Longtree asked him.
Lauters shook his head slowly and then drew his gun.
Longtree saw it coming, but there was no time to draw his own weapon. He threw himself sideways just as Lauters' Colt barked. The bullet ripped across Longtree's ribs with a raw and real explosion of pain that made black dots dance before his eyes. He hit the ground, clenching his teeth, unable to draw.
Lauters took aim, his face smeared with blood, his eyes rolling in their red-rimmed sockets.
"Sheriff!" Bowes screamed from the door. "Drop it!"
Lauters looked like some wild, insane thing. One of his eyes was swollen nearly closed and his face was painted up with streaks of red. He was puffy and red and panting. He looked from Bowes to Longtree, muttering under his breath.
"For the love of Christ, Sheriff!" Bowes said, pulling his own iron. "Drop it! Drop it now! You can't shoot a man who hasn't drawn…it's murder!"
Lauters grimaced. "I'm gonna kill that redskin bastard!"
Bowes had his pistol on Lauters. "Please, Sheriff… Bill, for goddsake drop it! I don't wanna shoot you!"
"Injun…just a goddamn half-breed-"
"He's a deputy United States Marshal, Sheriff! You'll hang!"
Lauters cursed and spat, dropping his gun. "Look what he did to me, goddammit!" Lauters cried. "Look what he did!"
Longtree moaned and sat up. "I came…to ask him questions…he attacked me…I only defended myself…"
Bowes helped him up. "All right, the both of you, we're going to see the doc. And I don't want any trouble."
"Your time's coming, breed," Lauters said, marching ahead of them.
Longtree swore at him.
"Shut up," Bowes said through clenched teeth. "The both of you."