Blood Duel by David Robbins, Ralph Compton

extended an invitation.”
    “A quibble, at best, and a distinction a judge is not likely to agree with,” Seamus said. He and the sheriff had talked it out before he left Dodge, and he had a mental list of criticisms, legal and otherwise.
    “Are you here to arrest us?” Adolphina asked.
    “If I could, I would,” Seamus said. Once again he shook the newspaper. “I am here to put a stop to this madness. You will place a notice in tomorrow’s
Times
stating that your previous notice was in error.”
    “We will do no such thing.”
    Seamus never hit women but he dearly yearned to make an exception. “Damn it, woman. Listen to reason. The county is prepared to take whatever steps are necessary to stop you.”
    “By the county you mean the sheriff,” Adolphina divined.“But since you had already admitted you do not have grounds to arrest us, what is left? Take us to court?”
    “If the county has to, it will.”
    “Legal proceedings cost a lot of money,” Adolphina said. “They also take a lot of time. There are appeals and more appeals. It could be years before the legal aspects are resolved.”
    “Don’t do this,” Seamus said.
    “The case might go all the way to the Supreme Court.”
    “Don’t do this, Mrs. Luce.”
    Adolphina placed her hand on Chester’s shoulder and smiled. “I am afraid you have ridden here for nothing, Undersheriff Glickman. Go back and tell Sheriff Hinkle and whoever else is opposed to our idea that we stand firm in our commitment.”
    Seamus ground his teeth in exasperation. He looked at her husband and then at Win Curry. “Don’t either of you have anything to say? Why is she doing all the talking when she is not an elected official?”
    “My wife speaks on my behalf,” Chester said, “and on behalf of the good people of Coffin Varnish.”
    “Good people!” Seamus snorted. “Idiots is more like it. Jackasses who will find themselves six feet under if they are not careful.”
    “Watch your language in the presence of a lady,” Adolphina said.
    In disgust, Seamus threw the newspaper in the dust. “Fine. It is on your heads. I will talk to the sheriff and he will send word to the governor. After that, it is out of our hands.” Wheeling, he strode toward his mount.
    Winifred hurried after him. “Don’t go away mad. Would you care for a drink before you leave?”
    “I would like a club to beat some sense into those simpletons.” Seamus did not stop. He unwrapped the reins, hooked his foot in the stirrup, and swung up.
    “It was not my doing,” Win stressed.
    Seamus lifted the reins and scowled. “You live here. Whether you agreed or not, you will suffer the consequences. What do they hope to get out of it, anyhow?”
    “More bodies to display at a dollar a view.”
    “Money? They are doing this for the money?” Seamus shook his head. “They invite killers to come to town, invite killers to kill one another, and then your friends will put the dead killers on display for a measly dollar?”
    “Not so measly,” Win said. “But maybe nothing will come of it. Maybe no curly wolves will show.”
    “You better hope they don’t. When you have a wolf by the tail, it can turn on you.” With that bit of wisdom, Seamus clucked to his buttermilk and reined to the south. The Luces were staring at him. He smiled at them, a cold, bitter smile, and focusing on the woman, raised a hand in farewell. “I won’t shed a tear at your funerals.”
    “I get the impression he does not like us,” Chester commented as the lawman reached the end of the street and spurred the buttermilk into a trot.
    “Him and his expensive clothes and his ivory-handled pistol,” Adolphina said. “He is a fine one to criticize us for trying to make a little money.” She squinted at the bright sun. “I can use a nap. I will be upstairs if you need me.”
    “Yes, dear.” Chester closed the door and crossed the street. “That was interesting, wouldn’t you say?”
    Win was in his rocking chair