Barrett had arrived at the saloon over an hour ago. After a delicious steak, he'd easily found a couple of card players to pass the time. He'd also overheard the locals buzzing about Henry's god-like gun skills, especially the demonstration he'd given the new deputies that afternoon.
A worthy opponent, indeed.
The thrill of meeting a true equal sent a jolt of excitement through Barrett's long-dormant blood. It manifested as an almost supernatural luck at the card table; he had bled his two opponents dry.
Finally, one of the gamblers, having lost his last ten dollars, snapped. He shot to his feet, drew his revolver, and pointed it at Barrett. "You're cheating!" he snarled. "No one's luck is that good!"
Seeing his chance, the other gambler quickly drew his own pistol, not wanting to be left out of the spoils. A vicious grin split his rotten-toothed mouth. "Hand over the gun, you damn cheat!"
Barrett just shrugged. "Friends, we're just playing for fun. There's no need for this. Tell you what, I'll give you your money back."
Sensing victory, the second gambler sneered. "That's not enough. We need compensation. Hand over all your money and your gun."
BANG! BANG!
The two gamblers' hands exploded in pain, their revolvers flying into the air.
BANG! BANG!
This time, everyone saw it. Barrett, still seated, had drawn his pistol in a blur and, with two casual shots, had blasted the airborne revolvers a dozen meters across the room.
The saloon fell into a dead silence. The two gamblers stared at Barrett's smoking pistol, their faces pale as sheets, their hands frozen in the air.
One of them suddenly had an idea. "Sheriff Henry!" he cried out. "He's a cheat! Help us!"
All eyes turned to Henry.
Henry slowly chewed and swallowed the last piece of his steak, took a sip of water, and then, in a calm, unhurried voice, asked, "You say he was cheating. Where's your proof?"
The two gamblers were speechless.
"You can't just accuse a man of cheating because he has better luck or better skill," Henry said, his voice cold. "If you make a bet, you honor the loss."
He then turned his attention to Barrett. "Friend, please lower your weapon. I'm the Sheriff here. The money is yours. You won it fair and square."
Barrett turned to face him. A slow smile spread across his lips. "I know who you are, Henry. But if you want me to spare these two, you'll have to prove you're better than the gun in my hand. Are you sure about that?"
The entire saloon was now focused on Henry's young, handsome face. They had just witnessed an incredible display of gun skill, and they were desperate to see how their new Sheriff would respond.
Henry knew, in that instant, that this man had come here for him. "I'm sure," he said, his voice low and steady.
Barrett smoothly holstered his pistol, stood, and touched the brim of his hat in a gesture of respect. "Barrett Hicks challenges Sheriff Henry to a duel of pistols. Please, name the time and place."
A wave of whispers and gasps swept through the room.
"It's him! The Blue Death, Hicks!"
"No wonder his hat is blue!"
"My God, he's the one! The man who's won over two hundred duels!"
"The man the Confederate Army feared most!"
"Henry's in deep trouble now…"
"Why is he here?"
"Mr. Barrett," Henry said, his voice flat, "don't you enjoy being alive?"
"I insist," Barrett replied, his voice like iron.
"Very well," Henry said, accepting the challenge. "By the rules of the West, we will duel tomorrow at noon, in the town square. Pistols, at a distance of thirty meters. Pastor Philip will bear witness."
Barrett gave a slight bow, then gathered his winnings from the table, swept them into a pouch, and strode out of the saloon.
The moment he was gone, the room exploded in a cacophony of excited chatter.
Henry looked at the worried faces of Thor and Hank. "If anyone starts taking bets," he said in a low voice, "put two hundred dollars on me to win."
He pulled twenty ten-dollar bills from his wallet, handed them to Thor, and then stood and walked out of the saloon.
Thor and Hank stared at each other. A moment later, a local butcher named Locke stood on a chair and called out, "Place your bets! Henry to win, paying 1.8 to 1! Barrett to win, paying 2.1 to 1! Both men die, 5 to 1!"
The atmosphere in the saloon became electric.
"How much are you putting down?" Thor asked Hank.
"Everything!" Hank said through gritted teeth.
A moment later, Thor was giving Hank a look of pure disdain. Everything was fifty cents. He, on the other hand, had slapped down two dollars without batting an eye.
Please win, Henry, Thor thought as he placed the $202 bet. Or my father and grandfather are going to kill me.
"Are you sure, boy?" Locke the butcher called out. "Two hundred and two dollars on Henry?"
"Of course I'm sure!" Thor yelled back. "Our Sheriff is invincible!"
The news spread through Frisco like a hurricane: "The Blue Death," Barrett Hicks, was in town, and he was set to duel Sheriff Henry at noon the next day.
Mayor William heard the news with a heavy heart. But the challenge had been made and accepted. There was nothing he could do, short of ambushing Barrett and having him shot down in the street. But Barrett was no outlaw; he was a war hero. It was a fair duel. William's hands were tied.
The new deputies, after hearing the story from Thor and Hank, all flocked to the town's saloons to place their bets. They all bet on Henry. After all, Barrett hadn't been seen in years, while their Sheriff had been on a legendary killing spree.
The news eventually reached Pete and Linda. Linda prayed silently for Henry's safety, while the rest of the town buzzed with the excitement of a rare and epic event.
In the West, formal duels were a rarity. They were a custom of the nobility, a matter of honor. For the common man, ambushes and brawls were the way of the world.