Chapter 12

Ada discovered she'd been holding her breath and almost laughed at herself for doing so. Obviously there was no way the people in the compound below could see or hear her from the position she held up here on the ridge. This was all part of the job she'd fought so hard to be accepted for, so now was the time to knuckle down and get it done.

Having reproached herself for forgetting her role in all this, the young marshal went back to observing the two riders approach the guards at the entrance. The one she presumed to be Hicks, spoke to them for a minute and then both men were ushered through. Ada watched them take the long track that led to the house. As they approached the main building, two men stepped forward and seemed to be telling Hicks to leave while Matt dismounted. The gambler appeared to hesitate, then began to argue with the guards. After a minute or two of what she saw as a heated conversation, Hicks grudgingly turned his horse around and retraced the same track he'd just ridden. When he got to the exit from the compound he stopped and looked back towards the house. One of the guards there at the gateway pulled a gun and impatiently waved him on his way. Hicks was no fighter, in fact Ada thought him to be somewhat timid by nature. At the sight of the gun he gave up and started slowly along the only road back to town.

She'd been caught up watching the gambler depart, but at the same time she'd managed to keep an eye on Matt as he entered the house. There was no obvious reason why Hicks had been sent away but it was her job to focus on her fellow marshal. The door closed behind the lawman and the guards went back to their former tasks.

Ada had to wait for what seemed like an hour or more while nothing happened. She was beginning to worry about Matt but there wasn't anything she could do to help him from this distance. She repeatedly told herself that the Kansas marshal was a very experienced and resourceful lawman and well able to take care of himself. Nevertheless it was all she could do to resist the urge to get on her horse and ride down there to help.

Without warning a commotion broke out around the entrance to the house. Shots rang out and she was instantly on the alert. The sounds echoed frantically around the valley and pounded her ears. Matt appeared at the front door of the farmhouse. It looked as if he'd already arrested Yarborough and had the man handcuffed. He held a gun to his prisoner's head as he pushed him forwards.

He must have ordered the guards to drop their guns because one by one she watched them remove their gun belts and let them fall to the ground. She saw Matt talking to one of the guards who then left and went to the barn. He returned a few minutes later with a saddled horse, presumably for Yarborough.

For a brief instant her heart leapt with relief. "He's done it," she thought and began to relax a little.

Out of the corner of her eye a movement caught her instant attention. She saw a guard working his way around the side of the house. Ada wanted to yell out a warning to Matt but knew that at this distance he wouldn't hear her. While the young woman watched the events play out below, it seemed as if the next few seconds dragged out into minutes in her mind. There was absolutely nothing she could do to stop what was about to happen. If she fired her gun it would be useless and only serve to alert the guards that someone else was up here on the ridge.

Up till now Matt was protected by the door at his back, but in that brief moment when he pushed Yarborough forward towards the horse, the guard at the side of the house had a clear shot. He raised his gun and fired. Ada was helpless. She watched in horror as her fellow lawman fell to the ground. She saw Yarborough direct his men to drag Matt back into the house and quickly follow after them. When they were all inside, the door was closed and Ada was left feeling cold and very alone. She had no idea if the marshal was dead or just wounded but she did know it was up to her to find out. She couldn't just ride away and leave him there. Then there was Yarborough. They'd been tasked with bringing him to justice and one way or another Ada Boothe was going to make sure that happened.

()()()

Matt and the gambler had left Kenton that morning and ridden west towards the valley where Yarborough had his compound. After a few brief words they were waved in by one of the guards, and rode side by side in silence to the wooden building in front of them. Two more guards armed with rifles were standing, waiting for them. The guards indicated for Matt to get down from his horse, which he did. He expected Hicks to do the same but one of Yarborough's men came forward and told the gambler he wasn't needed and should ride back to town. Hicks tried to argue, he wanted his bonus money for bringing Griffin to "The Maestro." The first guard was joined by a second who approached Hicks with a rifle in his hand. The gambler backed up a little. He wasn't a brave man but money was a big incentive to argue for what he believed he'd earned. He tried to stand his ground but gave up when the guard lifted his rifle and deliberately placed his finger on the trigger ready to fire. Hicks quickly decided that going back to Kenton might be the safer option. Reluctantly he turned his horse around and left.

Matt didn't feel too sorry for the gambler, in any case there was nothing he could do to help him right now. The one guard holstered his gun as soon as Hicks had turned away and indicated to Matt that he was to follow. He was taken into the front room of the house and told to wait while the guard checked to see if "The Maestro" was ready to see him. Matt knew that the next few minutes were going to be the crucial time. Surprised that Yarborough's guards hadn't taken his gun away by now, he was tempted to check that the Colt would clear its holster smoothly in case it was needed in a hurry, but decided that would be too obvious. With a little luck he'd be able to arrest Yarborough and convince the hired hands to back away. Then he'd force Yarborough onto a horse and take him to Dodge for trial. For an instant he forgot that Chester wasn't out there somewhere waiting to step up and help if needed. So many times in the past he'd told his assistant to wait and watch just in case things went wrong. Chester nearly always managed to do the right thing at the right time but there had been one notable exception which he and Chester later joked about many times. He smiled to himself when he remembered walking through a torrential rain, looking for their horses. That had been one of Chester's worst moments until the jailer had come up with the perfect way to break the tension. Matt could hear him now, "You want some horehound candy Mr. Dillon?"

The guard returned from wherever he'd been and announced that "The Maestro" was ready to see him now.

Matt squared his shoulders and tried to look as much like a gunslinger as possible. He'd had enough dealings with such types over the years to understand the mentality of men who killed for a living. Some people claimed that killing for a living described his job too. Maybe they were right. Sometimes those comments affected him, but deep down he understood that there were occasions when a lawman had no choice but to kill.

He entered the same room where Ada had stood just two days ago. He saw the same man sitting in the chair with his back towards him. The man stood and slowly turned around to greet the famous hired gun he expected to see standing there. An instinctive look of horror and fear overtook his face, then his facial muscles relaxed and a cold counterfeit smile replaced it.

The men stared at each other in disbelief. Matt recovered first but waited for his adversary to speak.

"Well! Marshal Dillon!" The Maestro sneered, "I suppose you have an army patrol waiting outside."

Matt ignored the man's snide comment. "Can't say I expected to see you either, Yancy Boggs. I knew you as a small-time crook, a few stage robberies and such. I never heard of you getting involved in murder.

Matt's hand went to his holster, but didn't draw his gun. He wanted to take this man alive. "What led you to create this organization?" he asked.

Yancy Boggs was still looking at the marshal in disbelief. How did this lawman get into his private domain? Then he began to answer the lawman's question believing he could gain some respect for the notoriety he'd achieved.

"I was tired of being a nobody, Dillon. I knew I could organize spectacular robberies that people would notice and remember my name. But I wanted a real name. How could anybody be famous with a name like Yancy Boggs? It seemed so insignificant, so commonplace. I could never make the headlines back east with a name like that."

Matt noticed that as Yancy was talking he was moving slowly towards the door through which the guard had recently left.

"Hold it there, Yancy!" He drew his gun and pointed it deliberately towards The Maestro. "Don't open that door if you want to live."

Yancy stopped, then looked back at Matt and laughed.

"If you fire that gun, a dozen of my men will be in here faster than you can take another breath. You won't survive."

"I'll have time to take you and two or three of your men with me before I go down. If you come peacefully I can promise you a fair trial and my protection all the way to Dodge City. It's your choice."

"How did you find me, Dillon?" Yancy Boggs ignored the marshal's offer and regained his composure. There was no way this marshal was going to take him out of here. He didn't pay all those hired men to sit idly by and watch this arrogant lawman take him away.

"It's a long story that we don't have time for." As he spoke the Kansas marshal stepped forward and grabbed the right arm of his soon to be prisoner. He felt for the handcuffs that he'd carried hidden in an inside coat pocket and swiftly snapped one cuff over Yancy's right wrist and then secured the other.

"Don't give me any trouble, Boggs."

"How did you convince that worthless little gambler that you were Clay Griffin? Hicks must be a fool to let himself be taken in so easily. And then there's that little saloon girl, is she in your pay too?"

Matt didn't answer or even acknowledge Yancy's remarks. The prisoner began struggling to get out of the handcuffs that Matt had snapped on him but of course it was no use. "You won't get away with this, Dillon," he said between panting breaths.

Matt opened the door leading to the front room and two of the boss's guards were there.

"Take this man down!" Yancy screamed. "He's not Clay Griffin, he's the United States marshal from Dodge City. Go find that stupid man Hicks and that girl. Bring them back here!"

A few shots were fired by some of Yancy's men but their bullets came nowhere near the lawman and his prisoner. Yancy started to struggle, but Matt had a tight grip on his right arm and a gun pointed at his head.

"You men stand back or else your boss here won't last very long," he commanded. "I'll kill the first one of you who tries to get in my way."

His voice had strength and power which made Yancy's men hesitate. "You!" Matt pointed with his gun to one of the men, "Go saddle a horse and bring it here now! Remember I'm holding a gun at your boss's head, so don't try anything foolish."

"Do as he says." Yancy was feeling desperate. He knew Dillon's reputation with a gun. He was fast - probably as fast as the real Clay Griffin - and Yancy wanted very much to stay alive.

Matt was in a hurry - he needed to get out of the confines of this enclosure as quickly as possible, before these men had time to organize themselves. He knew hired hands worked for money, not for love of their boss. Consequently they weren't usually willing to risk their own lives to defend him.

The guard dutifully showed up with a saddled horse and Matt pushed his prisoner towards it. What happened after that was a blur that led to darkness. There was a loud explosion followed by a sudden fire in his chest. Everything went black.

TBC