Overwhelmed by the absurdity of the assault, Hawk decided he had had enough. The only reason he could come up with for this bizarre confrontation had to do with Booth and his partner. “Who put you up to this? Was it a fellow named Booth? How much did he pay you?”

“Ain’t nobody put me up to it,” Billy snarled. “I don’t know nobody named Booth. I just don’t like your looks, and you knocked my drink outta my hand. So you back up and we’ll see how fast you are with that gun you’re wearin’, or get down on your hands and knees and crawl outta here.” He stepped back a couple of steps and took a wide stance, poised to draw his weapons as soon as Hawk backed up. Instead of backing up, Hawk stepped forward, matching Billy step for step, so they were still only a couple of feet apart and standing face-to-face.

“You wanna have a face-off, do ya?” Hawk asked a now-confused Billy Crocker. “Are you real fast with those six-guns?”

“You’re about to find out,” Billy sneered. “So back up and draw when you think you’re ready.”

“All right,” Hawk said. “Or you can walk outta here and we’ll forget the whole thing.” The grin on Billy’s face was answer enough. “No?” Hawk continued, “Well, have it your way ’cause I’m fast with a rifle.” Still holding his rifle in his right hand, he suddenly brought it up from the floor between Billy’s legs as hard as he could manage, rendering the startled gunman helpless. He doubled up in pain and collapsed to the floor. “And I was ready,” Hawk added as he walked past the crumpled-up would-be assassin and went out the door.

Outside, Hawk started walking down the street toward the stable, trying to decide if Billy was telling the truth when he claimed not to know anyone named Booth. He couldn’t think of any other reason for the confrontation. He had never seen the man before. He could be some young gunslinger trying to work up a name for himself. But why would he target him? I sure as hell don’t have a reputation, he thought. No telling how fast Billy was, and Hawk wasn’t interested in finding out, because he didn’t think of himself as being especially fast with a handgun. He had underestimated Billy’s resolve to get his revenge for the humiliating show in front of the patrons in the Last Chance. He found out the extent of Billy’s need for revenge, however, when a bullet ricocheted off the siding of the barbershop Hawk was walking past. The next shot smashed the window of the shop. With no option other than to shoot back, Hawk spun around, dropped to one knee, and pumped two rounds from his Winchester into Billy’s chest.