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there.”
    â€œBut he sent the telegram to Kirby.”
    â€œYes. Where is Kirby?”
    â€œActually,” Ingram said, “it’s between here and Orwell.”
    â€œThen I’ll be able to check Kirby on the way?” Clint asked.
    â€œSure, I suppose, if you want to. I mean, it’s not on a straight line.”
    They were sitting in Ingram’s office. Clint had turned down the offer of coffee.
    â€œWhere are your deputies?” Clint asked. “I’ve never seen them.”
    â€œOne is making his rounds,” Ingram said. “The other is out with my tracker, trying to find your men’s trail.”
    â€œMaybe,” Clint said, “when they do, it’ll lead them to Orwell.”
    â€œOr here.”
    â€œOr Kirby,” Clint said.
    â€œWhen will you be leavin’?” Ingram asked.
    â€œFirst thing in the morning,” Clint said. “I’ll be renting a horse. Mine’s not ready for the trip.”
    â€œI can loan you a horse, save you some money.”
    â€œYour horse?”
    â€œI have more than one,” Ingram said. “Don’t worry, it’ll be a good one.”
    â€œOkay,” Clint said, “I accept.”
    â€œI’ll have it ready for you in the morning, out front,” Ingram promised.
    â€œThanks.”
    Clint stood up.
    â€œWhere to now?”
    â€œI’ve still got some things to do before I leave,” Clint said.
    â€œI’ll buy you a drink tonight,” Ingram said. “How about the Jack of Hearts?”
    â€œFine,” Clint said. “I’ll see you there later.”
    â€œFine.”
    Clint left the office.

FOURTEEN
    Clint went to his hotel to check with the clerk and see if the telegraph clerk had found the name.
    â€œSorry, sir,” the man said, “no messages.”
    â€œOkay, thanks. Let me know as soon as one comes, though.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œI’m going to be riding out of town tomorrow, but I want to keep my room. I’ll be back in a few days.”
    â€œWhatever you say, sir.”
    Â â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢Â 
    Clint had intended to go to his room and pack his saddlebags, but for some reason today he had been hungry since the start of the day. Even after breakfast, and later pie. He decided to go into the dining room and have an early steak.
    There were only a few tables taken, so he was served immediately. While he was eating, he thought about Maria and the night they’d had together. Maybe that’s what had his appetite in an uproar. The girl had worked him hard.
    He was finishing up when he saw the telegraph clerk come to the doorway and look around, When the clerk spotted Clint, he hotfooted it across the floor.
    â€œI found that name, Mr. Adams!” he said excitedly.
    â€œGood,” Clint said. “What is it?”
    The clerk looked at the piece of paper in his hand.
    â€œUh, it’s Dunn, Adam Dunn.” He looked at Clint. “I shoulda remembered that, since it’s like your name.”
    â€œI get it,” Clint said. “Can I have that?”
    â€œSure.”
    Clint took the piece of paper and handed the clerk a couple of dollars.
    â€œThanks!” the clerk said, and hurried back out.
    Clint looked at the name on the slip of paper. He didn’t recognize it, but now he had two names: Adam Dunn and Derrick Sands. And hopefully he’d find one or both of them in Orwell, Texas.
    Â â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢Â 
    After he finished eating, he went back to the sheriff’s office, but Ingram wasn’t there. Behind the desk sat a young man with a deputy’s badge.
    â€œHe ain’t here, Mr. Adams,” the deputy said. He swallowed hard, obviously intimidated by being in the presence of the Gunsmith.
    â€œDo you know where I can find him?”
    â€œNo, sir,” the deputy said. “He’s just . . . out and about, I guess.”
    â€œOkay,