The Boar's Head went deathly quiet as Moose and Tommy Mason strode through the batwing doors. Even the piano-player ceased playing in anticipation. Moose stared over at the piano-player in annoyance and boomed, "Hell boy, what's the matter. Yer fingers just get the palsy er somethin'? Play me 'Red River Valley'."

The piano-player turned back to the keyboard and reluctantly complied as Moose and Tommy Mason strode purposefully over to Lancer's Table. Conchita Mireles was hovering over Johnny protectively, cradling his head in her arms and running her slender, elegant fingers through the young gunman's long, yellow-blonde hair. Lancer's eyes locked onto those of Tommy Mason, who's jaw was set tightly as he glared down at the slayer of his older brother.

"What are ya drinkin', Johnny?" Moose boomed.

"If I'm gonna be drinkin', a cold beer'll be fine." Lancer said tightly.

"Hell yes yer gonna be drinkin', what the hell else would ya be goin' ta do?

Glowering at Tommy Mason Moose growled, "Sit down, Tommy, yer gonna have a beer too." He then glared at Bill Wyler and Conchita and ordered roughly, "Wyler, bring us three cold beers. Conchita, go fer a walk."

"Conchita no go nowhere! Joo no my boss, Senor Murdoch!" Conchita said defiantly, her hands clenching inadvertently in Lancer's hair.

"Ouch, Connie, be careful, fer cryin' out loud. Ya durn near yanked my hair out!" Johnny exclaimed.

"Connie, we just want ta have a private conversation is all. Por favor?" "Si, Conchita go, eef joo prohmise joo no fight heere!"

Murdoch looked at her, then at Lancer and Mason who were still glaring at each other and said, "Hell, if there's gonna be any fightin' done today, its gonna be by me!"

As he finished that sentence, Morgan Tanner entered the saloon followed by Jake Barlow. Moose, noticing their entrance out of the corner of his eye said loudly, "Wyler, I reckon ya better go check upstairs. I figure one a them whores must'a spilled her chamber pot or somethin'."

"How's that, Moose?" Bill Wyler asked, genuinely puzzled at the big rancher's comment.

Well I was just a-sittin' here talkin' with my nephew here when all of a sudden the place started smellin' of shit! Like a damned outhouse or somethin'!

Moose then turned and looked across the room at Tanner and Barlow, who had just seated themselves. "Why hell! No wonder! Why didn't someone tell me that Tanner just walked in. Hell, that sure enough explains the smell. I wouldn't worry none 'bout checkin' on them chamber pots, Wyler." The room was silent again, Tanner, overhearing the insult, clenched his teeth and said nothing, but his anger was building rapidly.

Just then, Moose glanced in annoyance over at the piano player who had once again ceased his playing. Moose slammed his fist down on the table hard, almost breaking it, and startling everyone in the room, including Lancer and Mason."Boy, I thought I said ta keep playin' that piano! Get to it! Yer tryin' my patience somethin' fierce!" The piano-playing resumed immediately as both Tommy and Johnny began laughing hard in spite of themselves.

As their beers arrived, Moose picked up the conversation. "All right Johnny. Me an Tommy have had a long talk on the way down here.The jist of it is he still hates yer guts an wants ta kill ya. But, he's agreed ta call it a truce, at least, until the range settles down. And he's agreed ta listen ta yer story on what happened when ya killed Will Mason down in Mexico several years back. Ain't that right, Tommy."

Mason looked down at the table and sighed resignedly. "It's right, boss. I know you've got your side of the story, Johnny, it probably won't change nothin', but I'll listen, if you're talkin'." Mason said.

"Alright, Tommy. But first off, I'll say this. I wouldn't bother ta explain nothin' to ya if it weren't fer the fact that you an Josh used ta be close friends a mine. I hold back, only because of that, and because you're close ta my family, and Jesse Logan.Other than that, I'd have let you and Josh find me a long time ago!" Lancer said firmly.

"Anyhow, I knew yer brother was trailin' me. I'd heard that he'd killed my pardner Billy Barnes, an was after me. I didn't want no quarrel with 'em so I ran ta Piedras Negras across the border where he had no jurisdiction over me. If he hadn't been yer brother, I would have waited for 'em and gunned 'em down for killin' my pardner. Way it was though, I ran ta Mexico. I didn't figure he'd follow. He did. Told me I was goin' back with 'em one way or another, peaceably, or draped over the saddle. I tried ta talk 'em out of it, but he wouldn't have it. Now I knew that he was plannin' ta drop me off at Laredo. Well I also knew that I'd be lynched there, fer certain, since the stage driver that got killed in that hold-up was downright popular, even though it was Barnes that shot 'em. There wouldn't have been no fair trial, or I would have gone back with your brother and taken a chance on breakin' jail later. I didn't have that kinda choice or I'd of taken it. That's the God's truth! It was him or me, and him, out of his jurisdiction anyhow. I'm sorry, truly sorry, but Tommy, if I were in the same predicament again, I'd do the same thing, and I reckon you would too, if you was in my boots. That's the straight a the matter, and that's all I'm gonna say 'cept I'm damned sorry it had ta be your brother."

As Johnny looked at Tommy, he could tell he was blinking back tears, and going through a sort of internal battle. "I believe you, Johnny, but I don't know that I can just let it go like that. I owe my brother somethin'. I want to let it go, but I don't know that I can."

"Johnny reached over and slapped him on the shoulder, grinned and said, "Hell, Tommy! I didn't expect ya ta kiss me, but that's a start. But fer heaven's sakes, try ta understand enough not ta keep plannin' on puttin' a bullet in me. We may not be able ta be friends, although believe me, I want ta be, but we don't have ta be enemies."

Tommy looked up at him and asked, "Tell me, Johnny, put yourself in my shoes. What would you do? How would you feel?"

"Pardner, I cain't do it, I ain't never worn your shoes and don't know if I'm fit ta do so. It's easy fer me ta say I'd fergive ya from where I'm settin', but I cain't say it cause I ain't been there. You know where I stand, and how I feel. All I can do is hope you'll come around."

"I won't promise, Johnny, and I can't speak for Josh, but I'll try, I promise, I'll try. For the friendship we once had, I'll try."

"That's all I can ask. At least, ya heard me out on the subject. Thanks, Tommy." Lancer said sincerely.

"Alright then boys, I guess the truce still stands, then? I don't have ta go chasin' you from saloon ta saloon no more, Tommy?" Moose asked.

Tommy Mason smiled for the first time in hours and said, "Hell no, boss."

"Good, then I expect you two ta shake hands--on that truce, if nothin' else."

Morgan Tanner had been unable to hear what was being said between Mason and Lancer but clearly heard Moose's voice, and winced inwardly as Mason and Lancer stood up and shook hands. A cheer went up in the saloon and Wyler announced that the next drinks were on the house.

Moose polished off another glass of beer then said, "Well boys, you'll have ta excuse me. I gotta get my boots dirty."

"What's up boss?" Mason asked.

"Gotta step in some shit, I reckon." Moose said as he stood up from the table and bit off a chunk of chewing-tobacco. "Folks, I got me a little announcement ta make." He said in a loud voice, and the saloon became quiet once again. Tanner, who had gotten up and had been preparing to leave, changed his mind and sat down, wanting to hear what Murdoch had to say. Murdoch looked over at him and smiled icily, then winked.

"Folks, a couple a nights ago if ya'll remember, there was a gunfight in this saloon, and one on the street after, where Dan Bolton got killed. Most of ya'll know what happened so I won't go over it none. Anyhow, what ya'll may er may not know is that Jesse Logan, who is like a son ta me, was almost killed by a low-down bushwhacker at the same time that the MT and BAR-O hands got into it. Wyler over here, pulled him out of the room whilst everone else was a'watchin' the goin's on over at that tables."

He then went on to explain how Jesse had tracked the killer outside the window, and how they had reached their conclusion as to the dry-gulcher's identity.

Moose walked over to the window and drew back the curtains, exposing the broken pane. He then explained as to how the whole thing had been set up so that the sound of the shot would be intermingled with the shots at the card-table so that most would have naturally assumed that Logan had simply gone down from a stray bullet from that direction. Tanner sat in silence, clenching his teeth, and drumming his fingertips impatiently upon the table.

"Now folks, ya'll can see the broken pane caused by the bullet here. Well, like I said, we figured it was Jared Ransom since that's where the evidence pointed. Later that day, Lance Nighthawk confirmed it fer us, havin' spotted Ransom headin' out ta the MT. Well, Nighthawk figured Ransom was headin' to a line shack on the MT, and sure enough, he was right. My son Shane caught 'em this morning, on Tanner's land, holed up in a line shack, just like Nighthawk figured. Well, he confessed ta everything, including the fact that Morgan Tanner, that smooth-talkin' Yankee son-of-a-bitch sitting over there, hired 'em ta kill Logan ta get him outa the way."

Tanner stood up and said, "Just a minute, I have heard just about enough of these slanderous accusations!"

Moose waved him down with a gesture and said, "Don't wet yer britches Tanner, I ain't through yet. There's more. We left Ransom over at Fort Davis since, we cain't be none too sure bout the law 'round here or even at Fort Stockton. I aim ta bring up charges soon, when I can get me a decent circuit judge ta come ta town. Another thing, you folks are probably still thinking that Nighthawk killed Sheriff Orr. He didn't, but I think I know who did. The Esperanza gang, more specifically, Muerte, killed him, ta make it look like Nighthawk did it."

He then went on to explain all the evidence that he, Shane, Ballard, Duane, and McCormick had found. "I cain't prove it yet, but I'm certain that the Esperanza gang was hired ta kill the sheriff."

Tanner could no longer contain his anger. He virtually leapt from his chair and crossed the room toward Murdoch. He stopped directly in front of the man and began shouting.

"Murdoch, I had no idea to what lengths you would go. I had once labored under the impression that you were an honorable man. I can see that I was sorely mistaken on that account."

Tanner raised his hand and began pointing his finger in Murdoch's face as he spoke the next two sentences. "You sir, are a liar and a scoundrel. I shall certainly sue you for slander in court, and these people are my witnesses."

"Mister, you wave that finger in my face once more an I'm gonna break it off and stick it up yer ass!" Murdoch growled, punctuating the statement by spitting a stream of tobacco juice in Tanner's face as if to add emphasis. Tanner moved his head in a futile attempt to dodge the stream, and some of the odious liquid missed him and splattered Barlow in the face. Nevertheless, enough hit Tanner to infuriate him completely.

Tanner exploded, hooking a right and left to the big rancher's face in rapid succession. Murdoch simply shrugged the blows off and swung a hard right toward Tanner's jaw. Tanner ducked the punch easily, then threw a left, right and another left into Murdoch's midsection followed quickly by two left jabs to the face and one powerful right that caught Murdoch flush in the jaw-- staggering him for just an instant. Murdoch then grabbed Tanner and slammed him against the wall hard. He then smashed him with a powerful right to the stomach, doubling him over and knocking the breath completely out of him. As Tanner was slumping over forward toward the floor, Murdoch caught him with a vicious kick to the forehead that flipped Tanner over backwards and knocked him unconscious. Moose then spat a combination of blood and tobacco juice into the nearest spittoon.

Smiling at the gaping patrons of the saloon he exclaimed jovially, "Hell! the man hits pretty good, fer a Yankee."

Turning around, he noticed that Barlow had his hands in the air, and Tommy Mason had his gun at the little gunman's back.

"That's alright, Tommy. Let 'em go. I reckon he's gonna be wet-nursin' his boss fer a while." Tommy holstered his gun carefully, all the while, keeping a close eye on Barlow, whose face still bore an innocent expression as though nothing at all were amiss.

"Fun's over fer now folks. Be seein' ya'll. Jest remember what I said. It's all true. Murdoch drawled, as he and Tommy turned and strode through the swinging doors. At Conchita's insistence, Johnny Lancer decided to go with her upstairs. He had made up his mind however, to turn down the job of deputy, even though he would only have been pretending to be on Tanner's side.

Tanner got up shortly after Lancer had disappeared upstairs. Surprisingly, he did not appear shaken. Rather, his bloody face bore a look of stark determination as he strode directly out the door after Murdoch. Barlow followed, close at his heels. He caught up with Murdoch as Moose and Tommy were leading their horses out of the livery stable.

Morgan Tanner had been challenged and humiliated in front of a number of people. That was far beyond what his monumental ego could bear. He intended to settle the feud with Murdoch permanently here and now. His gunmen could handle Murdoch's sons and riders later, if necessary, but this had become intensely personal.

Murdoch and Tommy stopped abruptly as they noticed Tanner and Barlow approaching. Men from the Boar's Head began pouring out on the street to watch. Apparently, the show was not over after all. Tanner addressed Murdoch loudly saying, "Murdoch, you have both slandered and humiliated me in public. I cannot allow that reproach to remain unavenged. I'm calling you out personally."

Murdoch handed the reigns of his horse to Tommy as he said, "That mean you're gonna call off yer dog there?" referring to Jake Barlow.

Tanner turned to Barlow and ordered loudly, "No matter what happens, this is between Murdoch and myself. Stay out of it unless someone attempts to come to his aid!"

Murdoch stepped away from the horses and out into the middle of the street. Tanner followed suit. Murdoch had not been in a fast-draw type gunfight in some time, and was not generally known for his speed. His Walker was worn in a crossdraw fashion on his left hip, as was the standard procedure of the rangers when he himself had been one. Murdoch was by no means slow however, and he was deadly accurate.

What was not known however, was Tanner's prowess with a pistol. Tanner had never been in that type of a gunfight, but, back east, having heard that it was the way of the west, he had practiced it extensively before coming to Texas. He had always been an expert shot with either rifle or pistol and his reflexes were very fast. He soon discovered that he was extremely swift on the draw and fairly accurate. He felt in his heart that he was at least a match for any of his own gunmen. He had intended to avoid any gunfighting on his own however, since he did not want the reputation. Nonetheless, Murdoch had pushed him beyond his limit. Today, he would settle the account personally and permanently.

The two men stood approximately twenty-five yards apart as they went for their guns. Murdoch moved surprisingly fast for a big man, pulling a huge four and one half pound pistol. Nevertheless, before he had leveled it, Tanner's first bullet caught him in the left breast, then the second hit him on the head. The huge man plummeted backwards and hit the dust with a sickening thud. The mighty Moose Murdoch had finally fallen.

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