"Are we just going to ride in there, Darcy?" The men sat restlessly on their horses, above the town, looking down on the remains. "What if it's a trap?"

"Only trap I'm concerned with is Duggan's, and I'm gonna see that it gets shut - permanently. Now get goin' and earn what I'm payin' you. Follow those tracks." Huber watched the men start down onto the town, his jaw set with determination. "Carson, you stay with me, we'll go around that side over there." He kicked his horse and trotted off toward the rear of the town.

"Here they come." Arch spoke softly, peering through a space in the collapsed wall. "Only three. The others must be circling around. Darcy isn't with them."

"Stay out of sight. I don't expect you're their favourite hand about now." Galen moved to the back wall and tried to see up the back of the building. "I can get between these boards and watch our backs. Let them make the first move, Arch." He squeezed out of the opening and dropped to the ground, crawling to the edge of the building.

Galen spotted the two riders walking their horses slowly behind the ruined structures. Huber had a rifle raised up right in one hand, and he kept pointing to different things that caught his attention. The man with him climbed down from his horse and disappeared from Galen's view. Behind him, Galen heard Arch shifting his position inside the office, and his jaw clenched.

Out on the street, the riders had stopped, one down, looking at the various tracks and pointing toward the law office. Arch shifted again, and his shoulder moved a loose board in the wall. The sound drew their attention and they all dismounted, drew their guns and spread out.

"Darcy!" One man called. "We found 'em. Out here."

Galen saw the man return to his horse, and both he and Darcy rode around to the street. Rather than go back inside, Galen moved around the building and took up a position a little more behind where the men had gathered. He hoped Arch would stay quiet, or even slip out the back.

"We know you're in there, Duggan. Get your sorry ass out here and face me like a man." He heard Darcy shouting, and a moment later a voice call out, "I'm over here, Huber, and I'm alone - unlike the man you claim you are." Galen swore silently and cursed the man's decision. Harley wanted to fight his own battle. He quickly repositioned himself closer, in case Huber just decided to gun Harley down.

All attention went down the street to where Harley Duggan stood, unarmed, feet spread. In the office, Arch moved nearer the door, ready to help if things turned nasty.

"A man would pack a gun, Duggan." Huber turned to face him.

"Well I don't. So you're either going to have to just shoot me like the coward you are, or fight me like a real man would."

Darcy's eyes blazed, and rage coloured his face. "Get him! Get the bastard!"

Two of the men moved toward Harley and stopped, spinning in confusion as shots rang up into the air. Galen almost laughed over the fact that he and Arch had exactly the same idea. When he stepped out onto the road, Huber turned, glaring, then turned again as Arch appeared in the office doorway.

"Best you boys keep out of this," Arch drawled. "Tell 'em, Carson, this is Mr. Huber's fight. No need getting hurt by doing anything foolish."

"Good advice, fellas." Galen had quietly walked up behind them while they watched Arch, and they wisely stepped away, arms raised slightly.

Darcy shouted at them to do what he paid them to do, his arms flapping and spittle spraying from his mouth. When none of them moved, he turned on Galen.

"What's your part in this, Helliwell? This is between me and Duggan."

"I absolutely agree, Mr. Huber, and he's right there waitin' for you."

"You think I'm going to fight him? Bare knuckles? After what he did to me?"

"Him or me, Mr. Huber, 'cause I'm the one that did it."

Darcy looked stunned, words wouldn't come as he listened to what Galen claimed he did. Arch came down to the street and went to Darcy's men. "Let them settle it boys, it ain't really your fight."

"I'm waiting, Huber." Harley called, moving a little closer.

The challenge made him reflect on what happened to Reed, and Darcy, left with little or no choice, faced Duggan. "Fine, you want to fight like a couple of drunken cowboys, you're on." He undid his gun belt and tossed it aside, stripped off his jacket and pushed up his sleeves. "Come and get it."

Harley removed his own coat and set it aside. "One thing before we start. However this ends, it's over. Finished. No more to do with one another ever."

"There won't be anything left to do when this is over." Darcy snarled. "And nobody interrupts us, got it?" he called back, "no matter what." He raised his fists and crouched slightly as Harley approached. Both men stood, fists raised, shuffling on the spot, and gauging one another. Darcy feinted and the dance began. Circling slowly, he feinted again with his left and threw a long right-handed swing at Harley's face.

Harley danced back, ducking then lunged forward with a right that caught Darcy's forearm. They both bobbed and weaved in front of one another, waiting for that one opening, and suddenly Harley charged forward with a flurry of punches that put Darcy on the defensive. A fist found a fleshy cheek, followed by a harsh blow to the midsection. Darcy grunted, throwing his arms up in front. As Harley moved after him, he managed a hook to the head, and Harley stumbled back, slow to stop the next few punishing blows.

Tripping and falling to one knee, Harley shook his head and as Darcy moved in for another round, he straightened up, connecting solidly under the chin. Darcy flew backwards, surprised and off balance. In a moment Harley was all over him. Blows to the body and face. Blood sprayed from a broken nose and the follow through sent them both tumbling to the dusty ground.

Legs kicking and tangling. Fists and fingers hitting and clawing. Harley rolled on top, pressing a forearm across Darcy's throat. He roared all kinds of threats and warnings, as he fought to keep Darcy from getting free. Blood covered his arm from the broken nose, and then he felt fingers grasping for his eyes, and moving his head back, he let up enough for Darcy to push him off. Again they struggled to their feet, and the boot to the ribs had Harley crying out and falling away in pain.

Pushing up on one knee, Harley saw the knife appear in Darcy's hand. He looked up at the defiant sneer as his opponent ran at him, swinging the knife down in a deadly arc. Harley dropped back down to the ground and raised one leg, catching Darcy across the shin and sending him on an off balance tumble, headlong into a broken horse trough. There was a soft cry as he crashed to the ground, rolling over - the knife's handle sticking up from his stomach.