Moonshine Massacre. William W. Johnstone

be stirring up.”

      “Folks haven’t taken kindly to it?” Matt asked.

      “That’s putting it mildly. Governor St. John had to send out special deputies to try to enforce the ban, and they’ve wound up getting in shoot-outs with saloon owners and people who try to smuggle in the stuff and just average folks who want to take a drink.”

      Matt and Sam glanced at each other, but didn’t say anything about having witnessed one such gun battle earlier that very day.

      “On top of that, local badge-toters like me have had to close down the saloons in our towns, and that’s caused a lot of hard feelings, too,” Coleman went on.

      “Someone tried to shoot Dad from an alley a few nights ago,” Hannah said. “I’m sure it had something to do with that ban on liquor and the way he ordered all the saloons in town to close.”

      “Now, we don’t know that,” Coleman said with a shake of his head.

      “Why else would anyone try to bushwhack you like that?”

      Coleman shrugged. “Lawmen always have enemies.”

      “There hadn’t been any real trouble in town for months,” Hannah insisted. “Not until that new law went into effect.”

      “Well, maybe not, but we still don’t need to jump to conclusions.” Coleman turned to Matt and Sam again. “But you young fellas don’t want to stand around listening to my problems. Tell you what. Since I can’t buy you a drink to thank you for helping me out, why don’t I feed you supper instead?” He looked at his daughter. “That is, if Hannah doesn’t mind me volunteering her to cook for you.”

      “Not at all,” Hannah said quickly. “I think that’s an excellent idea.”

      “So do I,” Sam said without hesitation, which didn’t surprise Matt. “Thank you for the generous invitation. We accept.”

      Matt didn’t mind Sam speaking on his behalf this time. After being on the trail for several weeks, a home-cooked meal sounded mighty fine.

      “We live on Third Street,” Hannah told them. “Just go up one block and then turn left. It’s the fourth house.”

      Sam nodded. “We’re much obliged, Miss Coleman.”

      “Yeah,” Matt added. “Thanks. Now we’d better see about finding a stable for our horses and a place to stay.”

      “Cottonwood Hotel’s across the street in the next block,” Coleman said. “Nice, clean place. And I’d recommend Loomis’s Stable, at the eastern end of the street. Ike Loomis will take good care of your animals.”

      Matt and Sam nodded their thanks, then went to gather up their mounts while Coleman and Hannah went into the marshal’s office. The horses were well trained and hadn’t gone far. As the blood brothers led them toward the stable Coleman had recommended, Matt grinned and said, “You’ve got it bad.”

      “What?” Sam said. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

      “The hell you don’t! I saw the way you were makin’ calf eyes at Miss Hannah.”

      “You’re loco!” Sam protested. “She’s a pretty girl, I suppose, but I wasn’t…I didn’t…” His voice trailed off and he blew out an exasperated breath.

      “Yeah, I’m sure it’s just a coincidence that you started talkin’ about stayin’ around these parts for a while.”

      “The horses need a rest,” Sam insisted.

      “I need a drink, too, but it looks like I’m not gonna get one here.”

      “You can live without a drink for a few days.” Sam paused, then went on. “Did you hear what Hannah said about someone trying to bushwhack her father?”

      “Of course I heard her. I was standin’ right there.” Matt frowned a little. “But that is a mite interestin’. Could be the marshal has more trouble on his hands than he realizes.”

      “And the prospect of trouble always intrigues you, doesn’t it?” Sam asked.

      Matt grinned in response but didn’t say anything.

      They reached the livery stable. According to the sign painted on the front wall over its big double doors, it was LOOMIS’S LIVERY—ISAAC LOOMIS, PROP. When they led their horses inside, a short, barrel-shaped man in overalls and with a plug hat met them. He had a short, rusty beard, and a crooked black stogie was clenched between his teeth.

      “Howdy, gents,” he said without removing the stogie. “He’p you?”

      “We need a place to put up our horses,” Sam said.

      “And a place that’ll sell us a drink,” Matt added jokingly.

      The fat man leaned out to look both ways along the street, then slowly straightened and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial tone as he said, “Just could be I might can he’p you with both of them things.”

      Chapter 5

      The blood brothers looked at him in surprise. Matt said, “I was just funnin’ with you, old-timer. We know about the new law in Kansas.”

      “Yeah, well, just ’cause somethin’s a law don’t mean that everybody follows it.” The liveryman frowned suddenly. “You boys ain’t some o’ them special marshals, are you?”

      “Us? Not hardly,” Matt said.

      “We’re just passing through Cottonwood,” Sam added. “And we’re really not interested in having a drink.”

      “Speak for yourself,” Matt said. He turned to the liveryman. “Just what were you gettin’ at, amigo?”

      “There’s an old barn at the other end o’ town. It used to be Cottonwood’s other livery stable, but there weren’t enough business to support two of ’em. Fella who owned it closed up shop and went back wherever he came from. Barn’s been sittin’ there empty for nigh on to a year.”

      “So what happened?” Sam asked. “Someone came along and converted it into a secret saloon once that new law went into effect?”

      The liveryman looked around nervously again, then said, “You didn’t hear it from me.”

      “Wait a minute. You’re serious? There really is a saloon down there?”

      “Now you’re talkin’,” Matt said.

      “Just go ’round back and tell ’em that Ike sent you. That’s me, Ike Loomis.”

      Matt grinned. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Loomis. Under the circumstances, mighty pleased.”

      “I suppose you get a little payment for sending customers down there,” Sam said with a note of disapproval in his voice.

      Loomis shook his head. “No, sir, I sure don’t.” He hooked his thumbs in the suspenders that held up his overalls and added proudly, “I own the place. Well, not the barn itself, I reckon, but nobody was usin’ it. I brought everything in and set it up, though.”

      “Where do you get your booze?” Matt asked.

      Loomis shook his head. “That’s a secret. I’m already takin’ a chance just tellin’ you about the place, but you boys look trustworthy to me.”

      “We just helped Marshal Coleman arrest some men who were disturbing the peace,” Sam said. “He’s the one who told us to bring our horses down here.”

      Loomis started to look worried again. “Oh, shoot. You’re friends of Marsh Coleman, are you?”

      “We just met him,” Matt said. “Don’t worry, Mr. Loomis, we’re not gonna run back to the marshal’s office and tell him about your saloon.”

      “I