«I’ll kill the next one who goes for his gun,» Whip said. «That includes you, Murphy.»

«I ain’t reachin’ for nothin’,» Murphy said calmly.

«Keep it that way.»

Then the lash was still.

Silence gathered like a storm while Whip looked over the Culpepper boys. Other than Beau and Floyd, there was no blood, simply stinging welts. Yet everyone in the room knew that Whip could have reduced the Culpeppers to scarlet shreds as easily as he had disarmed Floyd. The attack had been so unexpected and so swift that they had never had a chance to gather their wits, much less fight back effectively.

«Boys, I’ve known outhouses with cleaner mouths than yours,» Whip said. «I’m purely sick of your filth. If you all want to keep a tongue in your head, put a bridle on it when you’re around a woman. Hear me?»

Slowly the Culpeppers nodded.

«Good,» Whip said. «Shuck your irons.»

Four revolvers hit the floor.

«Leave that girl alone from now on,» Whip said. «Hear me?»

One by one the Culpeppers nodded sullenly.

«I’ve given all my warnings,» Whip continued, «and it’s more than the likes of you deserve. Now get out of my sight.»

Dazed, uncertain, Beau allowed himself to be pulled upright by Darcy. Clim helped Floyd to his feet.

The front door slammed open. The four Culpeppers staggered out into the cold wind. None of them looked back. They had seen as much of the big stranger as they wanted.

The door banged shut. The room was empty but for Whip and the storekeeper. Whip looked at the countertop. The flour and salt were gone. He turned to Murphy. The storekeeper’s hands were in full sight and empty of all but grime.