Roy swung his head around and looked at the bank president. "And you believed him Grover?"
"Well, he purchased the land that included the old Cready farm."
Roy looked back at the Buddy. "You bought the Cready's farm? Well isn't that poetic justice." Roy turned to leave.
"Now where are you going Roy?" asked the bank president.
Roy stopped. "I'm going to try and stop the Dixon gang from doing any more killing."
"What should I do with the sheriff?"
"Grover, do me a favor and follow me."
The two men stepped outside Grover's office away from the sheriff. Roy whispered his message. "Take the Wells Fargo money and put it in an unmarked bag. Then take it over to Frank Dillard's and have Frank lock it in the gun safe he has in the back storeroom. If I'm correct, the Dixon gang will be coming to get this money soon."
"What do I do with the sheriff?"
"Lock up Buddy in your safe. Put a note on the bank door that says Buddy stole the missing money. Then send your employees home and secure the bank. Send a telegram to the Federal Marshal's office in Albuquerque to come get our thieving sheriff and their money."
"What are you going to do Roy?"
"Finish something that needs to be done Grover. I nearly lost the family I love and care about, and no one has a right to do that. They've destroyed my farm, the Johansson farm, killed many men and women, and it's time to bring their killing to an end."
The bank president started to stop Roy, but it was too late. Roy walked out and was trudging toward Dillard's. When Roy burst through the entrance to the general store, both Frank Dillard and the elderly patron were startled. Roy walked past them both and around the corner. Frank watched in disbelief as Roy started stacking boxes of 30-30 rifle and 45 caliber pistol shells on the counter. When he had nearly all the supplies available, Roy stared at Frank.
"I haven't got time for small talk Frank and can't explain why I need all this, but if you would put this purchase on my account, I'll settle things later."
Frank produced a nervous chuckle. "Are you planning on starting a war, Roy?"
Roy frowned and looked mad.
"No, but I'm going to end one that the Dixon gang started."
"Roy? Those are fierce men who will kill you just for looking wrong at a man. Perhaps you'd better get the sheriff's help."
Roy pursed his lips. "Who Buddy? You need to know that our sheriff is a thieving no-good rascal. He's locked up in the bank vault until the Federal Marshals can come get him. In the meantime, I suggest you close up shop and find a safe place to hide for a while. Oh, and before I forget, Grover Matting is coming over from the bank and wants to store something in your gun safe out back."