Killing Ground. William W. Johnstone

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СКАЧАТЬ added, “Here comes Brighton now.”

      Chapter 3

      Dex Brighton came straight toward the table where Frank sat with Conrad, Rebel, and Catamount Jack. Frank rose to his feet as the man approached, wanting to meet Brighton on an equal basis. Brighton stopped a few feet away and gave Frank a curt nod.

      “You’re not wearing a badge, but I assume you’re the town marshal. Frank Morgan, right?”

      “That’s right,” Frank said.

      Brighton extended a hand.

      “I’m Dexter Brighton. It’s good to meet you, Morgan. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

      His affable manner didn’t extend to his eyes, which remained cold and hard. Frank hesitated before shaking his hand, but only for a second. If Brighton was trying to cause trouble for Tip Woodford, then Frank had to regard him as an enemy, because Tip was his friend.

      At the same time, it was possible that Brighton had legal grounds for his claim on the Lucky Lizard, in which case Frank was sworn to uphold the law. He gripped Brighton’s hand, which was hard, dry, and strong. The man was well dressed and had the look of money about him, but he had done plenty of hard work in his life, too.

      “I’ve heard a few things about you, too, Brighton,” Frank said.

      Brighton chuckled, but again, the humor didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m sure you have.” He nodded to Catamount Jack. “Hello, Deputy.”

      Jack just grunted.

      “Don’t believe everything you hear, Marshal,” Brighton went on.

      “I generally don’t. I like to see things with my own eyes before I make up my mind about anything—or anybody.”

      Brighton nodded. “That’s wise. I think you’ll find that I’m just a man who wants what’s rightfully his.”

      “We’ll see,” Frank said.

      Conrad cleared his throat.

      Frank half-turned and waved his left hand toward the table. “My son, Conrad Browning, and his wife.”

      Conrad stood up and shook hands with Brighton as well. “Mr. Brighton,” he said.

      “Conrad Browning of the Browning Mining Syndicate,” Brighton said with a smile. “Owner of the Crown Royal Mine. You see, I looked into the situation here in Buckskin before I ever came out here. I hope we’ll be friendly competitors once I take over the Lucky Lizard. Enough silver to go around for everyone, eh?”

      “Your business affairs are your own, Mr. Brighton,” Conrad replied, his voice cool. “They have nothing to do with the Crown Royal or the Browning Mining Syndicate.”

      “And we’ll have to see about that claim of yours on the Lucky Lizard,” Frank put in. “I haven’t seen anything to indicate that it doesn’t belong to Tip Woodford free and clear, just the way it always has.”

      “Not always,” Brighton said, and for the first time a tone of clipped anger crept into his voice as his polished façade slipped. “And as far as evidence goes, I have the partnership agreement between Jeremiah Fulton and my father, Chester Brighton. It clearly states that if either of them wanted to sell his share in the mining claim they owned jointly, it could only be sold to the other partner. Fulton’s sale of the claim to Woodford was in violation of that agreement. Therefore, the sale was null and void. The agreement also states that in the event of the death of one partner, his share would pass to the other partner. Fulton died first, so legally the entire claim went to my father. And when he died, it passed on to me. It’s just that cut-and-dried, gentlemen.”

      “You talk like a lawyer,” Frank said. His tone of voice made it clear he didn’t think that was a good thing.

      Brighton smiled and shook his head. “No, I’m a businessman, not an attorney. But I have had some excellent legal advice on this matter.”

      “Where’s that partnership agreement you mentioned? You’re going to have to produce it if you want to convince me or anybody else that you’re telling the truth about your claim on the Lucky Lizard.”

      “In due time, Marshal. When the time is right.”

      “And when is that going to be?”

      “I believe a circuit court judge is due to arrive here in another week or so on his usual rounds,” Brighton said. “My attorney should be here by then, too.”

      So that was his plan, Frank thought. He wasn’t sure why Brighton had come to Buckskin ahead of the judge, instead of showing up at the same time and springing his surprise then, so that Tip Woodford wouldn’t have had any time to prepare a defense. But if this was the way Brighton wanted to play it, that was all right with Frank.

      He nodded and said, “I reckon we’ll let the court settle it then. In the meantime, there’s no need for you to be stirring up trouble around town.”

      Brighton spread his hands. “What have I done to stir up trouble?”

      “I hear you’ve been talking to some hardcases. Hired guns maybe, in case this legal challenge of yours doesn’t work out and you try to take over Tip’s claim by force.”

      Brighton’s face darkened with anger. “That’s scandalous talk, Marshal. I haven’t broken any laws, and I don’t appreciate being treated as if I have. I think it’s obvious, too, that you’re not going to be impartial in this matter since you and Woodford are friends. He’s the one who hired you for your job here, isn’t he?”

      “That doesn’t have anything to do with me warning you not to cause trouble,” Frank snapped.

      “Doesn’t it? Before you pinned on a badge here, you were nothing but a cheap, drifting gunman, isn’t that right, Morgan? It seems to me that if anyone’s got a hired killer on his side, it’s Woodford, not me.”

      Frank tightened the reins on the anger that welled up inside him. Catamount Jack wasn’t as restrained. He leaped to his feet.

      “Why, you slick, no-good polecat! You can’t talk that way about Frank Morgan!”

      He started toward Brighton, his hands balling into knobby-knuckled fists.

      Frank moved quickly to get between Brighton and his deputy before Jack could throw a punch. It wouldn’t make a judge any more kindly disposed toward Woodford’s case to have one of the local lawmen physically attacking Brighton. That could make it look like Tip was trying to use his position as Buckskin’s mayor to intimidate his opponent—even though Tip really had nothing to do with it.

      Putting a hand on the old-timer’s chest to hold him back, Frank said, “Take it easy, Jack. That won’t do any good.” He looked over his shoulder at Brighton. “I think you’d better move along, mister.”

      An arrogant smile appeared on Brighton’s face as he said, “As far as I know, Marshal, this is a public place, and you don’t have any right to order me out unless I’m causing a disturbance.”

      “You’re causin’ a disturbance, СКАЧАТЬ