“Every damn one of ’em,” Booth replied, arrogantly, “’cause there wasn’t any reason to let ’em live—same as you.” As he said it, he drew the .44 from his holster and aimed it at Mutt. “Say hello to Billy for me when you get to hell.” He pulled the trigger as Mutt tried to back out of the room.

Mutt stumbled out into the hall before doubling up and collapsing to lay helpless on the floor. Booth walked out in the hall and stood over him as he casually cocked his pistol again. “Me and Billy’ll be waitin’ for you, you son of a bitch,” Mutt gasped before the fatal shot to his forehead quieted him forever.

In a hurry to get out of the saloon now, what with the delay just caused by having to deal with Mutt, Booth picked up his few belongings and walked out the door. At the top of the stairs, he stopped when he saw Fred coming up, having heard the gunshots. Fred stopped at once, his head just about even with the second floor. He glanced at Mutt’s body lying on the hallway floor, then back at Booth gazing down at him, and backed slowly down the steps without saying a word. “Looks like you just inherited a saloon,” Booth sneered, and started down the steps. A frightened bystander, Loretta stood by the bar, her eyes wide with the sight of Booth, a mocking smile still firmly in place, as he came downstairs. She didn’t have to guess the explanation for the two shots just heard. Fred continued slowly backing away until he was stopped when he bumped into the end of the bar. The two of them stood frozen with fear as Booth casually came down and started toward the back door.

Relieved that Booth had no intentions of killing him and Loretta, Fred finally permitted his brain to free him up. Mutt had speculated more than once about the large amount of money he was sure Booth and Jesse had amassed. It occurred to him that the money was now walking out the door, with Booth’s back turned toward him. He had no need to think further. He spun around the end of the bar and grabbed the shotgun propped there. Before he got the butt of it up to his shoulder, Booth turned and fired. For one instant, Fred looked down in disbelief at the hole in his shirt before he crumpled to the floor. Anticipating just such a move, Booth had pulled the extra six-gun from his belt before he reached the back door. Looking now at Fred to make sure he was no longer a problem, he then glanced at Loretta. “How ’bout you?” he asked. “You got any ideas?”

Loretta immediately threw her hands up. “No, sir!” She exclaimed, “I’ve got no part in this.” He stuck the pistol back under his belt and went out the door.

* * *