Mutt was disappointed with an offer less than what he believed he could get, but Billy accepted the two hundred before he could speak. It was big money to Billy, who had never been paid to kill, in spite of his father’s attempt to put that image into Booth’s mind. Maybe it doesn’t make any difference, anyway, Mutt told himself. He might not even show up in town. To Booth, he said, “Well, I believe you boys made a good deal, if that feller does show up, he’s as good as dead. Right, Billy?”

“Right,” Billy answered. “Now, I want my supper. I’m hungry. Tell Cora to bring me a plate.”

“You can sit down with us, if you want to,” Booth offered, but Billy declined, saying he liked plenty of elbow room. So he sat down at a table across from them. Suits the hell outta me, Booth thought. Mutt’s son was not a likable young man, that was for certain. There was no more conversation between the Corbin brothers and their hired assassin.

Although Billy devoured the plate heaped up with ham and potatoes, beans and corn bread, he was not finished before a topic of interest to all of them came in the door with one of Mutt’s drinking customers. He passed the time of day with Fred, the bartender, for a few minutes before Fred suddenly left the bar to get Mutt’s attention. Mutt was engaged in conversation with Booth and Jesse, but he stopped abruptly to hear what Fred was anxious to tell him. “That Hawk fellow you’ve been talkin’ about is in the Last Chance right now,” Fred told him. “Barney Meadows saw him goin’ in the door. He remembered him from when he was in town before.”

Mutt turned at once to see if Booth and Jesse had heard. From the startled expressions on both their faces, he knew they had. Billy had heard as well. He paused long enough to release a loud belch, then finished the last couple of bites of ham before getting up from the table. He walked over to stand before their table and asked, “Two hundred dollars, cash money, as soon as he’s dead?” Both brothers nodded. “Then I reckon I’ll go have a little drink at the Last Chance instead of drinkin’ your likker, Pa.” He started toward the door.

Mutt hurried to walk to the door with him. “You mind how you go about this, son. Don’t give nobody a chance to say you just walked in and dry-gulched him. You do that and there’ll be a posse out lookin’ for you. Make it look like a regular face-off if you can.”