Chapter 6 trapeze

The summer of 1896 was not a good time for the residents of Winding River.Hot, dry and isolated.It is surrounded by deserts that no one has ever crossed, and mountains that few people are willing to climb.But for someone like Ben Snow who wishes to be forgotten, this is a wonderful gem.But it is difficult to sum up the reasons for the other three hundred or so residents to stay in a dry place like Winding River without any rain.Perhaps it was the mines in the mountains that kept them, their hunger for gold and the rewards of the occasional digging, keeping them safe. But outsiders were afraid to avoid it, especially in September 1896.Here, time seems to be frozen, and hundreds of residents are suffering from the scorching sun.It's not a tourist destination, nor is it a place to make a living, unless you're willing to work in mines where temperatures sometimes reach 120 degrees Fahrenheit.

In Crooked River, every day is much the same, and that's what Ben Snow likes.He could hang out on the dusty high streets, do odd jobs to make ends meet, and fish by the creek that gave the town its name.There was even a girl named Sue who worked at the hotel where Ben was staying.Ben liked her.He is madly infatuated with the town.Only the sheriff has a gun here. On this day—it was a Tuesday—he found an undercurrent of anticipation as he walked from his room to the street. "What happened, Sue?" he asked her.She was wearing her overalls — a brightly colored polka-dot shirt and leggings.

"There's a stranger coming here across the desert," she told him, looking as excited as the others, "with a wagon and other things." Few strangers visit Winding River.In fact, it was the first visitor Ben could remember since he rode into town six months ago.He went out into the street just in time to see a large carriage drawn by two horses driving into town.The crowd approached quietly, and had already surrounded it tightly.Even from where Ben was standing, he could see the big, eye-catching slogan that had caught all the attention at that moment: Flying Man - Dr. Robin!

Ben had seen a lot of witch doctors and gods in the West, but at first glance, this one seemed a little different.This man is tall, with white hair, but has a young face, which makes people wonder if it is a wig.He raised his voice, and his voice spread throughout the street. "Look, look, look! Dr. Robin the Flyer is here to surprise and shudder you." The crowd gathered. Ben was standing on the porch of the hotel, just in position to watch the white-haired man deliver a speech he had rehearsed many times. "Folks, I've come to your town to bring you the greatest invention that the world has ever seen, an invention that's sweeping the East and Midwest at this very moment. Humans are no longer like snakes and lizards Like, crawling on the ground - now, we can fly, like eagles and falcons, soar as we wish! Here," he yanks a rope, revealing the entire canvas-covered contraption in the carriage, "open your eyes! "

Ben was indeed an eye-opener.What he saw was a curious contraption in the shape of a pair of gigantic wings, or rather double pairs—up and down.The span of the two wings is about fifteen feet, and a metal pole is attached to the middle of the pair of giant wings below, which is obviously a place for people to grasp and support. "You mean this thing can fly?" someone in the crowd yelled.Ben recognized the speaker as Frank McCann of the Horse Rental. "Maybe you can put one on my horse." But it is obvious that Dr. Robin has long been used to this kind of questioning and making things difficult.He distributed leaflets among the crowd.Ben took one too, and saw at once that it was indeed something extraordinary.There are a few pictures - live photos - of a man soaring through the air with just these two huge wings.There were also articles in some of the leading Eastern newspapers, including The New York Times.The German in the photo is named Otto Liliand, who has successfully glided more than a thousand times with a series of "hang gliders" he made.

"Yes, my friends," Dr. Robin began again, "you see, but you still doubt. I can see the doubt on your faces. Well, tomorrow morning, over the mountain, I will personally Demonstration for you. I will fly down from the mountains on these wings! When I land, when you all believe that humans can finally fly with birds, I will give each of you an order for this pair Chance for wings. Laugh, now you can laugh if you want--tomorrow you won't. Why, at this moment, this thing is so popular in New York that the police are considering making special traffic rules. People jumping from tall buildings Gliding up and down buildings - I've seen it with my own eyes!"

He preached for another hour, and Ben could see that even the most skeptical people in the crowd were about to be persuaded by him.At least, tomorrow morning's audience is huge.Across the crowd, Ben noticed Sheriff Hansen leaning against the wall of the bank building across the street, listening intently. As he moved, the police badge and pistol beside him reflected the sun's rays from time to time.It was evident that he was as interested as the rest, and had no desire to drive Dr. Robin and his large carriage out of town. After a while, Ben felt more and more bored, turned and left, and walked towards the creek.It was the end of hot summer, and the stream was almost completely dry.There had been no fish to catch lately... He and Sue had dinner at the hotel, as they had done every night for weeks.Some nights they saddled their horses and rode for miles through the desert with only the stars.But tonight, for some reason, he was a little restless, as if the arrival of Dr. Robin had broken the peace and tranquility he had built for a long time.

"Not riding tonight, Ben?" she asked. "No. A little sleepy. I think I'm getting old." "Thirty-seven? I've never heard you say that before." "Sometimes, I think I should go East, Sue. Probably New York." "The place where people fly down from the roof?" He laughed, rolling a cigarette in his hand, "I don't know why, I doubt it. But..." "Here he comes!" she whispered suddenly. "He's coming to our table!" It was indeed Dr. Robin, tall and white-haired, walking between the tables, walking towards them. "Ah," said he, as he came up to them, "have I had the honor of acquainting Mr. Ben Snow?"

"I don't know if it's an honor, but I'm Ben Snow. How can I help you, Doctor?" "A little business matter. Would you please leave this young and beautiful lady?" "Of course," Sue said, rising from her chair, "I'll be in Frank's stable, Ben, if you change your mind about riding." She smiled hesitantly at Dr. Robin, and left up. "What's the matter?" Ben asked. "Can we talk somewhere quiet—like your room upstairs?" "I suppose so," Ben led the way up the stairs, wondering what had prompted Robin to research his name and where he lived, "here it is."

His room is not a good place for leisure and entertainment. There is only a copper bed, a washbasin, a lamp, a chair, and on the dark gray wallpaper, there is only a faded picture of General Custer. portrait.But Dr. Robin doesn't seem to mind.He sat Ben on the only chair and sat himself on the edge of the bed. "Ah! Very good. Now for business." "What kind of business?" Ben asked suspiciously. "Let me start here: I know who you really are." Ben felt that familiar dread rising in him.Don't come again, God, don't come again. "I'm Ben Snow. Nothing else."

Dr. Robin smiled. "Don't try to fool me. I'm an old friend of General Lou Wallace. Had dinner with him once. I fought alongside him in the Civil War. I don't look like fifty." People, right? Except for the hair, but it's good for business." Ben interrupted his ramblings, saying, "All I know is that Lou Wallace is the author of Ben-Hur. I've never met him." "Maybe you haven't met him, but this is the guy I'm talking about. He was governor of New Mexico from 1879 to 1880, when Billy the Kid was running around with guns. I guess he was writing a book then." .I went to visit him and heard all the rumors about Billy the Kid." "Then you also heard that he was killed by a sheriff in 1881." "Maybe Lou Wallace and the rest of the cops think he's dead, but some of us know the truth," Robin said slyly. Snow's name." "Get out, Robin. I don't like your business." "But it's a deal, Billy--Ben--you'll get something. I'll pay you a hundred dollars tomorrow to be the shooter." "Oh?" Ben leaned back in his chair, the topic started to become interesting, "Who am I going to kill?" "Maybe you don't have to kill anybody. That's why it's so easy to make. Tomorrow I'll take orders after my show flight. One hundred dollars per set--ten down, the rest upon delivery. In a town like this , full of gold mines, I can probably sell a hundred sets of flying wings. Then I have a thousand dollars in cash. You take a hundred, just make sure I don't get into trouble." "What kind of accident? Like Sergeant Hansen arresting you?" Dr. Robin smiled. "We know each other, that's the most important thing. Someone might try to take my money." Ben sighed, tired, "You're nothing but a liar. You're not even trying to sell the device to these people. You take ten bucks from everyone, fine, but they'll never see you again .You want me to cover you when you run away tomorrow night." "You'll do it, Billy." "Damn it if I can do it! My name is Ben. Wish you luck!" "I'm too old to use a gun and have bad eyesight. Air shows are already dangerous." "If you can actually fly, why don't you actually sell the device? Some crazy guy will buy it. Why make a scam?" Hearing this, Dr. Robin looked a little sad, "The situation is very complicated. On the one hand, the German Liliand died while gliding last month. But I didn't bring that part of the newspaper clipping." "He's already died, and you're going to fly off the cliff tomorrow morning!" The man's words made Ben even more astonished. "Two days of work, $1,000 in, it's a huge reward. It's worth the risk. In the past two weeks, I've conned in three small towns, and I've already picked my next target. I'm going all the way Scam to California and retire on the big bucks. In that beautiful country." "Why did you pick this place to start?" "Because of the gold mines. People here must be rich. I made a fortune in Texas, which was a cattle village. One hundred and twenty-two orders in one place." "There's not that much money here. Believe me, go tonight. I won't use a gun for you. I don't even have a gun." Dr. Robin shrugged. "Guess I'll have to find someone else. Peace of mind is worth more than my hundred dollars. Never liked gunfights." "What if I tell the townspeople you're a liar?" The gray-haired man smiled. "Then I'll tell them you're Billy the Kid. You don't want to, do you?" He slid out of bed and picked up his hat. "See you tomorrow morning?" "If I don't sleep in." Dr. Robin smiled and left.After a while, Ben locked the door and undid one of his saddlebags.He pulls out a dark copper Derlinger that hasn't been loaded in months.Although it can only hold two .45 bullets, it is enough.He wouldn't be helping a crook get away with it, but his weapon might be useful for something else... The next morning, the sun was shining and the breeze was blowing from the mountains to the west.When Ben walked out onto the street, he saw nearly the entire town turn out, waiting to catch a glimpse of the Flying Man.Sue had been waiting for him, and they were traveling with Jethro Arons from the bank.Sergeant Hansen has arrived at the performance site, standing on a conveniently located rock, and has a panoramic view of everyone's actions.Frank McCann was there, presumably hoping to witness the end of his beloved horse in the light of the new flying machine.Sue's younger brother, Tommy, is a rebellious teenager who undoubtedly wants to see a tragedy.They all came and surrounded Dr. Robin and his great flying wings. "I want to get closer, Ben," said Sue. Jethro Arons sat on a rock. "You two go. I can't get my legs up." But after a while, Ben and Su got separated under the crowd.There are only crowds around, a mob expecting to see a miracle performed by one person.And Dr. Robin really won't disappoint them.He stood on tiptoe, grabbed the bar, tensed his tall body, ready to run, two pairs of huge wings spread above him.Before him, the mountain fell abruptly into the desert below, where some townspeople had gathered, waiting to watch his landing.Then, he ran with the wind. At this moment, Ben Snow will never forget.His feet lifted off the ground, as if picked up by a gigantic invisible hand, and Dr. Robin rose into the air.Against the background of the morning sky, his figure is like a prehistoric giant bird swooping down towards the desert.The breeze caresses the tumbleweeds and dances the waves of sand, and he rides the wind.Dr. Robin, a flying man. Immediately afterwards, just when the sudden roar of the joyous crowd reached its peak, an accident happened.The white-haired man seemed to let go of his grip on the crossbar suddenly, and was blocked by the crossbar and pillars of the device, and then fell off the life-saving giant wings like the prey of a goshawk.Losing control, the flying wing fell to the ground in a strange posture, but Dr. Robin's body touched the ground first, hit the sand, and rebounded.Someone screamed behind him, and the crowd ran away immediately. Sheriff Hanson arrives at the body before Ben and the others.He turned him over and touched his heart, but his hand was sticky with blood. "Dead," he simply said. "Did you fall to death?" someone asked. Sergeant Hansen shook his head without looking up. "I think he was shot. Murder..." "Who killed Dr. Robin?" Jethro Arons asked.He had recovered from the exhaustion of the hard climb, one leg stretched stiffly in front of him. "That's what I want to ask too, okay." They gathered in the lobby of the small bank. The elders of Winding River Town chose to gather here for no other reason than they reached a tacit consensus. For Aaron For Sri Lanka, it is difficult to go a little farther. Sheriff Hanson was there, too, of course, along with Frank McConn of the Stables, and a few others who seemed familiar.No one turned him away, so he stayed, standing outside the crowd, listening to the conversation of the town elders.Robin's body had been carried away by the local undertaker, and Robin's carriage was left alone in front of the hotel. "Well, I think McConn shot him to protect his horse rental business." The mine owner Coxon said, but no one laughed. "Shut up," McConn replied. "How can I shoot a man with a pistol at that distance?" Sergeant Hansen cleared his throat, "I don't think anyone can shoot him with a pistol from the ground." "Don't you think the murderer is with him in the sky—the Invisible Man?" "No—I think he was shot with a rifle. I think his wound looks like a rifle bullet." Jethro Arons stood up cautiously and limped across the room. "That's even more absurd. No one here today has a rifle." "Nobody even has a pistol except the sheriff," Coxon added sharply. "I've sent my officers over there to search Shek Hill for the murder weapon. I think the killer hid the gun there early this morning and was ready for anything." "But he didn't even know where Robin was going to take off from, did he? How did he know where to hide the gun? Also, what was his motive for killing Robin?" At this time, it has become a public opinion exchange meeting, and I feel that I have no useful news.He slipped out of the gate, looking for Su casually under the bright noon sun above his head.She wasn't there, but her brother Tommy lolled over the long-disused hitching posts in front of the tavern. "Where's Sue, Tommy?" "How do I know? I didn't chain her. Maybe I should, shouldn't I?" Ben ignored him, but his feet on the wooden sidewalk couldn't resist the temptation.He lifted his foot and kicked Tommy in the crook of the leg, throwing him hard on the ground. "Damn it, Snow! Just wait and see!" "Of course," said Ben, walking away, "you just come." Sure enough, Sue was in the stable, and Ben wasn't surprised at all.Since McCone was more interested in murder, someone had to look after the horses.When he walked through the door, she looked up and smiled, "Where have you been, Ben?" "Wandering around, want to go for a ride now?" "The noon sun is hot." "I think we can ride into the mountains. I want to ask you something." Her expression was curious, but not doubtful. "Of course." She began to saddle her horse.It was a strong, powerful sorrel that would have been a racehorse in the East.He had said to her that they should go to the game in Kentucky, but of course they didn't.He had heard that a horse named Ben Brown had won the race that year.Sue had joked about him ever since, and she called her sorrel horse Ben—whether it was Bruce or Snow, he never asked. They took the back alleys of the town, avoiding the tense atmosphere and groups of whispering people on the main road.As she said, the sun was scorching hot, but in the shade at the foot of the mountain, the horses could also eat some grass while he and Su talked. "You and your brother have lived here since birth. Tell me about the others." "About them? What about them, Ben?" "Like the sheriff. Has he always lived here?" She chuckled with some sadness, "Tommy and I have always lived in this town. When I was fifteen—that is, six or seven years ago, Sheriff Hansen came here. He is very suitable for the job." In this business, I guess we haven't had any crimes to talk about so far. A drunken incident or two, that's all." "What about the others? Arons and Coxon? And McCone?" "I don't know much about Coxon. He popped up and became a mine owner. Jethro Arons was here for years. He used to have a bank in Kansas City, but decided to move west. In travel On the way, a gang of Indian bandits ran off from the reservation and robbed his train. A bullet shattered his knee and he couldn't walk anymore. As for Frank McCone—you know enough about him yourself Clear." "I know he likes horses. But I don't know if he would kill for horses. Dr. Robin might be his match." "Pure nonsense! Frank wouldn't hurt a fly." "Maybe." "We've got to go back, Ben. We didn't even say hello to Frank when we came out. Someone should have tended the horses. Besides, Mr. Comar at the hotel will think I've left him alone." "how is he?" "Come on, Ben! Do you want to be a detective or something?" "Someone has to get to the bottom of it." "Yes, but not you. That's the sheriff's job." They rode back to the town in silence, to find that it was just as they had left it.Someone brought Dr. Robin's flying wings back from the desert and placed them at the door of the funeral home, like some strange funeral objects waiting to be buried with the body.But at this moment, there was silence in the bank, and Ben couldn't help but wonder where all the elders in the village and town had gone. He quickly found out.They were all gathered around the corner in front of the stables, and he saw Jethro Arons standing in the middle like a crowd.Sergeant Hansen stood in front of them, one hand resting casually on the butt of his gun. "What's going on, Sheriff?" Ben said, with an answer in his mind. "Want to ask you a few questions, Ben. Dismount." He could feel the pocket-sized Delinger against his body, and wondered if this was his last chance to use it.No, he cannot risk harming innocent people.This is a time for routine inquiries only. "Sue, take my horse." "What's the matter, Ben? What do they want? Sheriff, what does that mean?" Hansen gestured, and Ben saw Sue's brother standing outside the crowd. "This boy has made a serious accusation against you, Ben. He said he overheard Robin talking to you last night. Said Robin identified you as..." "Tommy! How could you do that?" She walked up to him, betrayed anger on her face. "It's Billy the Kid." The words exploded like thunder, even Su's face was ashen, "Ben..." "Billy the Kid's been dead for fifteen years," said Ben softly. "I heard it all! I heard him tell you. I was outside the door!" Tommy was suddenly the center of attention, and he enjoyed it.This was the opportunity he had been looking for so long to exact revenge on his sister's lover. Frank McCone also chimed in, "I heard there was a man named Snow, from Arizona, who was a quick shooter, and he was supposed to be Billy the Kid. But I never connected him to you. You keep watching Looks like a good lad, Ben." Ben stood still, but his heart was beating faster and faster.The urge to flee had taken hold of him, a familiar urge that had accompanied him across the West.Why did he worry so much about this small town that was aggressive towards him?Why not pull out a gun, kill a bloody path, leave the Winding River, and spend the rest of my life with Su and her brother, fishing by the river every day or something... why not? But he just asked very calmly, "Well, Sheriff, have your men found the rifle?" "No, searched up and down. But you rode in that direction just now, didn't you?" Sue jumped up to fight back, "Nonsense, whatever you're thinking. I never took my eyes off him. He never got close to a rifle!" Her petite breasts heaved and heaved in rage. "Calm down, miss." "Well, Sheriff, how do you think I shot Dr. Robin without a rifle?" "Don't know how, but you were the only one with a motive. He knew you were Billy the Kid, so you killed him." A flash of inspiration came to Ben's mind, like the last bullet slipping into the chamber of a gun.He knew—he knew, he could tell them.But should he tell them?Doesn't this mean that more killings will be brought to this pure land?Can he stay here no matter what he does? "Let me speak with you alone, Sheriff. I think I can tell you who killed Dr. Robin." "Be careful—it's a trap." This time it was Coxon, the mine owner, who was silent and no one would notice him. Sheriff Hansen smiled slightly. "I think I can take care of myself. Let's go to my office, Ben. I hope you'll say something useful for your own sake..." Ben sat across the table from him, already feeling like a prisoner as Hansen carefully placed his pistol on the stained wooden tabletop between them.Hansen was a friendly, honest man, but he seemed to be dying to have Ben reach for his gun.Presumably every small-town sheriff wishes to tell his grandchildren that he shot Billy the Kid, even if it wasn't true. "Go ahead, Ben." "Okay. Listen, because we may not have much time left." "What's going to happen?" The trace of a smile climbed up the corner of his mouth again. "Just listen. It's true what Tommy said--Robin does think I'm Billy the Kid. He's a liar. He found out about this flying device in the East, and he's going to make a fortune out of it. By the way, the german who glides thousands of times with this contraption is dead, but Robin is hiding that part. He's going to take a ten-dollar down payment and run away tonight. If anything goes wrong, I'll cover it He, it's just that I refuse to go along with him. Anyway, when he left my room he said he was looking for someone else, and that's the clue. You got the motive, Sheriff, but the wrong killer." The clock above his head was ticking.The afternoon was almost over. "What do you mean, Ben?" "After Robin left my room, he went to find another man, another man who lived in the meandering river and he recognized as a gunman. Since he is willing to carry out his plan today, he must have found another man. However, the position of the second person he was close to here cannot be threatened. This person cannot let this insignificant person reveal his past. Robin must die, and he even thought that the murderer agreed to work for him Woolen cloth." "That makes sense. Can you name the murderer?" "I can, Sheriff. Think about it—Dr. Robin recognized me because I was standing on the hotel porch when he spoke, right in his line of sight. But he told me once that he Has bad eyesight. Could he, after many years, recognize or even just notice—someone like Coxon, for example?" "I guess not." "But he'll notice people like you. Liars always keep an eye out for the sheriff," Hansen's hand moved to the pistol as Ben said this, "but there's the rifle issue here. Robin was shot by a Killed by a rifle, and your officers didn't find a cache of weapons in the mountains. So, the murderer had that rifle with him. When the attention of the onlookers was attracted by the flying man, he shot Robin, and then The murder weapon was taken away from the scene." "Who could do that? No one in town has any weapons except me with a pistol." "Indeed, Sergeant. A rifle is a conspicuous weapon, not one to conceal." "I've read that there's a split..." "The accuracy of that gun at long range is a question. No, it must have been done by an experienced sharpshooter with a complete rifle." "who is it?" "Hiding a rifle under a woman's skirt is tricky but not impossible, but Robin is unlikely to approach a woman for cover. So what kind of man would hide a rifle on his body this morning Only one—Mr Jethro Arons, the lame banker of the Winding River." "impossible!" "Really, Sheriff? All the facts fit him. An important position to protect, a lame foot, tall stature that makes him stand out from the crowd, and a perfect spot for a rifle—in his In the trouser legs!" "Did no one see him?" "He limped along with us, but stopped on the rocky hill. He was outside the crowd, and when no one was looking at him, he pulled out his rifle and shot them flying over their heads. Then he just puts the gun back in the leg of the leg he can't straighten, and walks back with the rest. He's tall, remember, and has long legs." "Maybe," Hansen reluctantly admitted, "it's just possible." "You know, Arons seldom walks because of his inconvenient legs and feet. You even hold a meeting in the lobby of the bank to accommodate him. Even if he wants to watch the trapeze, and runs to such a rough mountain with a limp, don't you Don't you find it strange?" The sheriff stood up, picked up his pistol, "Let's go talk to him." They descended the dusty wooden stairs, diagonally across the street, towards the red brick building of the bank.They had just reached the middle of the road when they heard a gunshot breaking the silence of the afternoon.Hansen held his shoulder with one hand, was hit by the impact of the bullet, turned sideways, and fell down. "This shot could have gone through his head," said a voice from the bank's sheltered porch, and Ben saw Arons standing there, the rifle in his hand, watching him like a third eye. "You've already killed one person today," Ben said, moving closer.The Delinger was still in his pocket, but at this distance it was useless. "Isn't that enough?" The gunshots attracted people, and the young Tommy was the first to run.When he realized what had happened, he was within range of the banker's rifle.Arons slightly adjusted the muzzle of the gun and pointed it at the boy. "Well, boy. Now you've got to get in on it, too. See that carriage down the street? You're gonna take me out of town with that, and if you want to live, don't play tricks." Tommy stepped back, "I...Mr. Arons...how...?" "He killed Dr. Robin, Tommy. He, not me. And I bet it wasn't the first time he killed someone." "Shut up," Arons yelled, "pull the carriage over, boy, and stop at the front gate of the bank. Remember, the rifle has a long range, and I even killed a flying man!" "Who are you, Arons?" Ben asked, stepping up another step. "A shooter?" "Was, many years ago, the fastest shooter in Kansas. But Kansas civilized too fucking fast for me. I worked in a bank for a while and stole a bit of them Idle money, came west, opened my own bank. A sheriff shot me in the knee and made me what I am now, so I decided to turn around and be a law-abiding citizen. Meandering River is a fresh start Good place, until Dr. Robin came here. His eyes may be bad, but his memory is good. I can't let anyone ruin everything I've worked so hard to build. Didn't expect a smart guy like you to— Until I saw you looking at me in the stable." "Let's help Hansen. He's going to bleed to death." "No one can come near Hansen and his gun until I get into the carriage." "Our horses will overtake you in ten minutes." "Try it, but the boy will die." Tommy had already driven the carriage, and his hand holding the rein was shaking.He was no longer the smart brother who hated his sister's lover.At this point, he was just a terrified teenager, facing death threats for the first time.He didn't like everything in front of him.He is of a different generation, not a shooter or a vanguard, but the first generation of young people in the new era. At this moment, Jethro Arons sat in the carriage in a strange posture, and Ben was close enough that he could have blown his head off with two bullets from the Dellinger, but the rifle gun The pipe was almost against Tommy's neck.Ben owed nothing to the boy, and perhaps that was why he spoke first. "I drew my gun, Arons!" The tall man turned, and the barrel of the rifle made an arc that, in Ben's eyes, seemed almost slow.The smile on his lips was that of an old gunslinger, maybe because Arons was a gunslinger, and he'd be more willing to shoot Ben than Tommy.He didn't look surprised when he saw the Dellinger, or he didn't get a good look at it at all.His bullet flew past Ben's cheek and embedded itself in the ground ten feet behind him.With lightning speed, Ben drew his gun and fired, finishing him off in one shot... Then, as the cool night swept across the plains, Ben and Sue rode for a walk under the stars.He knew he was leaving soon—there was no place for him on the Meandering River now.But tonight, he doesn't need to think about it. "It's strange," he said, riding slowly beside Su, "Dr. Robin can honestly make money as long as he impresses people with his flying performances. And Jethro Arons didn't There is no need to be afraid of him. Because even if the residents of the town know about Arons' past, they won't do anything to him." "They may withdraw money from his bank." "Maybe," he sighed, "Money is always for money. Dr. Robin can make money in the open, but he wants to make money in the dark. Jethro can make money in the dark, but he wants to show it in the light." "Ben, were you freaked out?" "Scared? No, I know I can beat him." "You know? But how do you know?" He gave a strange smile, an inscrutable, shooter's smile. "Dr. Robin knows both of us," he simply said, "and he got to me first..."