That sounded good to Jesse. “When ya think we oughta go after him?”

“Now’s as good a time as any,” Booth said. “Now’s when we want him dead, ain’t it? He ain’t at the saloon no more. Ain’t that what you said, Fred?” He paused to hear Fred confirm it. “Might be we could catch him in his bed, or in the washroom,” Booth continued. The nagging concerns he had begun to experience about Hawk’s seeming to be invincible were fading away, since he and Jesse were now going on the offensive. He looked at his brother and grinned. “Whaddaya say we take a little ride over to the highfalutin part of town and pay our respects to Mr. Hawk?”

Jesse responded at once, happy to see a little fire back in his brother. He was tired of staying cooped up in a trading post or saloon and running away from one man. Without further delay, they went upstairs to their room to get their saddlebags. It was not that much of a walk over to Main Street, where the hotel was located, but they could not chance leaving saddlebags filled with money for Mutt to plunder. “Besides,” Booth said, “it ain’t a bad idea to have a saddled horse handy in case you do need one.”

Mutt followed them out to the small barn behind his saloon to encourage their efforts while they saddled their horses. “When you find him, put an extra bullet in him for me,” he said as they rode out of the corral, heading for Main Street and the Davis Hotel.

Actually little more than a rooming house with the added convenience of a dining room built alongside, the Davis Hotel was a favorite stop for travelers passing through town. A large, rambling house, it was owned and operated by Gracie Davis, since her husband’s death some years back. With rifles cradled across their arms, the Corbin brothers rode cautiously up to the picket fence in front of the hotel. With no sign of any outside activity, they replaced their rifles in their saddle slings and stepped down, figuring handguns were better suited for close work. Gracie, who was folding sheets in the linen closet, heard the tiny bell announcing their arrival and hurried to the parlor to find the two men standing near the small table she used as a desk. “Are you looking for rooms?”

“No, ma’am, we ain’t,” Booth answered politely. “We’re lookin’ to find a friend of ours. He said he usually stays here, and I wonder if he’s in his room right now.”