“Kill if you had to?”
“Yes.”
“Young fellow, I want you. What you doing now?”
“Wood contract.”
“Finish it. Then come see me. We want a shotgun messenger to ride with the stage. Got to stop these hold-ups. Big pay and little work.”
Hugh smiled. “Guaranteed as a nice safe job, is it?”
“Safe as running Sam Dutch out of town,” Palmer answered, meeting the smile with another.
Young McClintock shook his head. “Got another job waiting—one with Uncle Sam.”
“Going to join the army?”
“Yes.”