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I even polished my boots that morning, right after I shaved. There is something about being clean-shaven and wearing fresh clothes that gives a man an edge in attitude. I sported a new white shirt and black pants. A black vest was the finishing touch. I brushed my hair in the mirror and grinned. If appearance counted for anything then I had an edge, and that was what I needed that morning. For in twenty minutes I would meet a man in the street. A minute after that one of us would be dead.
It was not my idea. When I was appointed deputy by Judge Parker and stationed at the little settlement of Two Trees on the western line of the Nations I had no idea of how much gunplay there would be. Later I would learn that over sixty lawmen lost their lives while working that district.
I had run down a whiskey runner named Billy George and when I tried to arrest him he drew on me. There was no choice but to shoot him. The man meeting me on the street was Billy's brother. Apparently mule headedness is a genetic trait.
The very seconds stand out crystal clear at a time like this. The solid tick of the clock was a wholesome sound, even though it counted off the minutes to the ultimate trial.
A last check and I was ready. I walked out onto the boardwalk and down into the street. Far down the street Wolfer George did the same. At a long distance we stopped and sized each other up. It was at this point that the terrible fact hit me.
I HAD FORGOTTEN TO LOAD MY PISTOL.
I had unloaded the five rounds from my forty five when I took a few practice draws to check my coordination. I had holstered the Colt when Quint Bagley came in the office to offer support. Somehow I had forgotten to load the gun back up. Not too nervous.
Now I had a problem. I couldn't just scramble to load up or Wolfer would smell blood and shoot me down; not quickly but slowly like a cat playing with a mouse. He would not normally shoot an unarmed man in front of witnesses, but seeing me at a disadvantage would be more than he could resist.
I started to walk toward him. I truly had no plan. I was just hoping something would occur before he started shooting.
"That's far enough, Lawman. Stand and draw."
I ignored his words and kept on walking. My opponent was starting to get nervous.
"What are you doing? Stand and draw." A trace of panic came through with his words.
Now I started to talk, but I didn't stop to do it. "Your brother was in the wrong, Wolfie. Why follow his lead? He traded whiskey with the Indians and when I tried to arrest him he drew. I had no choice."
"That doesn't matter. He was my brother. Now draw."
I ignored his words.
"Lawman, I can make you draw. If you knew some of the things I done you wouldn't wait. I been trading with the Indians too."
"I know better, Wolfie. You just rode up from Texas."
"Do you know why I went? I got scared when I killed Annabel Leland so I skipped town." His eyes widened as he realized what he had said. Now he really had to win this fight.
"You killed her? And let us put the blame on Indians?"
"That's right. Me. I found her out by the cemetery and I raped her, but I knew she would talk so I had to cut her throat. Then I scalped her to make it look like Indians done it."
"DEPUTY, STAND ASIDE."
I took a step sideways as the huge bullet from a Sharps rifle flew by me and caught George right where he lived. I looked around to see Annabel's father with a smoking rifle in his hands.
"I suppose you'll have to take me in."
"Nope. If any killing was ever justified this was it. Plus he was armed. I'm going to call it self defense."
Then I turned and walked back down the street, never letting the people of Two Trees know I had walked down that street with an empty revolver.
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