Jesse considered Booth’s plan and decided the two extra days might work like Booth figured. But once they were successful in escaping, he was more inclined to find a good spot on the road to Helena and wait for Hawk to come after them. “It would be him that wouldn’t know somebody was waitin’ for him, and I think he’ll get a little careless while he’s bustin’ his ass tryin’ to catch up with us. I’d like to settle that jasper’s hash before he ever gets to Helena.”

“All right,” Booth said without hesitation. “We’ll do it that way. We’ll each take one packhorse and make ol’ Bodine a present of the rest of ’em. I don’t aim to be trying to drive those extra horses to Helena.”

“What we need is for that son of a bitch to get up the nerve to come walkin’ in here to settle it face-to-face, like ol’ Trip was always jawin’ about,” Jesse said. “That would make things a helluva lot easier, wouldn’t it?”

He had no sooner said it when the outside door to the saloon came swinging open and he stood in the doorway. Without a second’s delay, both brothers grabbed the six-guns lying on the table before them and pumped four shots into him. Mose Avery clutched at the doorjamb for support, only to slide slowly down to the floor, dying. Both men got to their feet, guns still in their hands, and ran over to look at their victim, who was softly muttering incoherently. “Damn,” Jesse cursed, surprised when he looked at the little man. “Is that him?”

“No,” Booth said, and holstered his weapon. “That ain’t Hawk.”

“Reckon what he’s tryin’ to say?”

Booth chuckled and replied, “Most likely that he ought notta come in that door.” His answer caused Jesse to chuckle as well.

Frightened moments before, when the gunfire went off, Dinah Belle and Josie had taken cover in the pantry. Now that it was over, and everything was quiet in the saloon, they came out and peeked around the kitchen door to see the two men standing over the body. Frightened to see who it might be, they hurried to the saloon door. “It’s Mose!” Dinah Belle shrieked. “You shot Mose!” She dropped down on her knees to see if she could do anything for the unfortunate victim. “Mose,” she begged. “It’s me, Dinah Belle. Can you hear me? I’ll try to help you, just try to hang on.”

Failing fast, the little man tried to apologize. “I was just wantin’ a drink,” he managed to sputter weakly through the blood in his mouth, and then he lay still.

Josie glared at Booth. “What did you shoot him for? Mose ain’t never done nobody any harm. Why’d you have to shoot him?”