The Western Adventures of Cade McCall Box Set

by Robert Vaughan

  Slater stood by the table for a moment longer. “You can come in here anytime you want, McCall, just as long as you don’t make no trouble. This is my joint and me ‘n my brothers is runnin’ a peaceful saloon.”

  “I’d say that,” Cade said. “When that man just shot a card player a few minutes ago, that was being peaceful.”

  “This ain’t the only saloon things like that happen in,” Slater said, dismissively. He walked away just as Bat and the others returned.

  “Did we interrupt something?” Bat asked.

  “No,” Cade replied. “The son of a bitch didn’t want me talking to one of his girls. How’d you do at the new wheel of fortune?”

  “Wheel of fortune? Ha. That’s a misnomer if there ever was one. They should call it the wheel of insolvency,” Bat said.

  Cade laughed. “I guess that answers my question.”

  “What do you say we get out of this den of iniquity, and go down to the Essington and have something to eat?” Bat invited.

  “You folks go on,” Cade said. “I have something else to do.”

  “Cade, you aren’t going to pick another fight with Luke Slater, are you because if you do, we want to be in on it, too,” Bat said.

  “No, this has nothing to do with Slater.”

  Cade made his way to the Rath and Company store. The day before he went out to the grading job, he had put the winnings from the poker game in the vault Charley Rath kept. Alonzo Webster was sitting at a sewing machine where he was making bags for the sugar-cured buffalo humps. He looked up as Cade came into the store, but he didn’t stop until he was finished with the bag.

  “After what you did to Jeter Willis, I wouldn’t think you’d have the nerve to ever show your face in this town again.”

  Cade let out a long breath. He knew he was going to be treated as a pariah everywhere he went in Dodge City.

  “Is Mr. Deckert in the back room?” Cade asked.

  “He was. Go on back,” Webster said indicating the back of the store with a nod of his head.

  Hodge Deckert was a small man who wore his pants so high that his belt line was nearly under his armpits. His thinning gray hair was combed straight back, and he had a small, perfectly trimmed moustache.

  “Yes, Mr. McCall?” he said, the greeting more professional than friendly.

  “How much money do I have on deposit?” Cade asked.

  Deckert picked up a ledger book, and began running his finger down across a column of names.

  “It would appear that you have six hundred and thirty-seven dollars and fifty-two cents.”“Give me one hundred and thirty-seven dollars and fifty-two cents,” Cade said, writing out a draft.

  “Very good sir. That will leave you a nice, round figure of . . .”

  “That will leave me nothing. I want you to transfer the rest of the money to the account of Jeter Willis.”

  “I can do that,” Decker said. “I’m sure he will be most appreciative. I hated to turn him down when he asked me for a loan, but with no visible means of support, I just couldn’t do it.”

  “Mr. Willis is not to know where this money came from. Do you understand?”

  “No, I don’t understand. When he learns that he has money in his account, he’ll wonder where it came from.”

  “You make up a story. Tell him you were going over the books and you found a mistake in the bookkeeping, a mistake in his favor.”

  “I can’t do that,” Deckert said. “I’ve never made a mistake. People wouldn’t trust me with their money if I wasn’t careful.”

  “This time you made a mistake. Do you understand?” Cade put his hand on his gun.

  “Yes, sir, I believe I made a mistake. I can see it right here.”

  12

  Jeter Willis was on the floor playing with the girls when Magnolia came in with a few supplies. A big smile was on her face.

  “You’ll never guess what happened,” she said. “I ran into Mr. Deckert and he told me he had made a mistake. We have five hundred dollars we didn’t know we had.”

  “Are you sure he told you that? That old man never makes a mistake.”

  “That’s what he said, and when I went by Rath and Company, I got twenty dollars.”

  “That can’t be.” Jeter withdrew a small account book from one of the pigeon holes in the desk. “Hodge may have made a mistake, but I didn’t. Somebody had to deposit money in my name.”

  “You have so many friends. Which one do you think would do this?” Magnolia asked.

  “I don’t know, but George Cox told me Cade’s back in town. He took another room at the Essington.”

  “Oh, Jeter, if he did this, we must thank him.”

  “Never. And if I run in to him, I’ll see to it that he takes his damn money back. I’ll not let him ease his conscience so easily.”

  Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door.

  “You answer it,” Jeter said. “If it is Cade, tell him . . . no, never mind. I’ll answer the door. I’ll tell the son of a bitch myself.”

  Jeter jerked the door open. “What do you . . .,” he paused in mid-sentence when he saw that it was Pete Cahill. “Oh, sorry, Pete, I thought it might be someone else.”

  “I’m sorry to be bargin’ in on you and the family but I got me a proposition. I reckon you know I don’t work at the Red House anymore,” Cahill said.

  “I had heard that.”

  “I just couldn’t work for those people, ‘N Suzie ‘n Nell, why, they couldn’t work there neither. I s’pose you’ve seen what they done with the place, paintin’ it like it’s on fire ‘n callin’ it the Devil’s Den ‘n all. That place is a real hell hole now, with nothin’ but the scum of the earth comin’ there as customers.”

  “Yes, but what can I do for you? What do you need?”

  “It’s not for me, it’s for my boss. He told me to find out if you would you like a job.”

  “A job?”

  “Yes, sir. I’m tendin’ bar down at the Essington, but now they’re calling it the Dodge House. I mean, Mr. Boyd figured that seeing . . . well, since you don’t have the saloon no more, he thought you might like a job somewhere else.”

  “What sort of job?”

  “Well sir, Harley Jim, the feller that was tendin’ bar with me? He quit, ‘n went to work for the Slaters. ‘N Mr. Boyd, him and Mr. Cox, down at the Dodge House, he asked me if I thought you’d like to work for ‘em. I know it might shame you to work as a bartender seein’ as how you actual owned a bar ‘n all. But . . .

  “Nonsense, Pete, no honest work is shameful. I’ll be glad to talk to Mr. Boyd and Mr. Cox about the job,” Jeter said. “And thank you, for coming.”

  Pete smiled. “Gee, Mr. Willis. It’ll be great, workin’ with you again.”

  “Yes, but, under the circumstances, I think calling me Jeter, instead of Mr. Willis, would be more appropriate.”

  “Yes sir, uh, Mr. Jeter,” Pete said.

  Two days after Jeter started working as bartender for the Dodge House Saloon and Restaurant, George Cox, asked Jeter to step into his office to speak with him.

  “Is there a problem with anything, George?” Jeter asked. “Excuse me, I mean Mr. Cox.”

  “You’ve called me George from the first time we met, Jeter. Just because you’ve come here under some difficult circumstances doesn’t mean we aren’t still friends.”

  “I appreciate that,” Jeter replied.

  “I have something I want to suggest. Actually, it involves your wife.”

  “Magnolia? Uh, George, I don’t think . . .” Jeter shook his head. “I don’t think she’d want to work here, and with Suzie and Nell joining the help you already had, you don’t really need another girl.”

  “No, no, you misunderstand,” Cox said, holding up his hand. “I don’t want her working in the bar; I want her to be my cook.”

  A broad smile spread across Jeter’s face. “She’s the best cook I’ve ever known. When would you want her to start?”

  “
Tomorrow would be good,” Cox said.

  The very first train to roll into Dodge after the railroad was completed took place on a fall day in September. The engine had been polished for this special run and the boiler gleamed black in the sun. The cab was red, with gold lettering: AT&SF 2752, while the brass trim glistened. It had a high, fluted stack from which smoke was drifting, the steam relief valve was opening and closing to vent off steam, and the engineer who had brought the train in was leaning through the window of the red cab, smiling down at the gathered crowd. A photographer had set up his camera and was now bent over beneath the cape to get his photo.

  The first train to reach Dodge had brought no passengers, nor was it configured to take any passengers back with it. Instead it was a freight train, and would be taking buffalo hides back East when it departed.

  The train had also brought a box car which it parked on a side track. Until such time as a depot could actually be built, the box car would serve that purpose.

  This was the most exciting thing that had ever happened in Dodge, and there were two or three hundred people who had come to witness the historic event. They were in high spirits, because the railroad not only guaranteed the survival of the city, but its growth as well. As the unofficial spokesman of the town, Robert Wright used the opportunity to make a speech.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, take a look at what stands before you on this day. You think you see sitting there, an engine of the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe Railroad, complete with all the inner workings and hidden mechanisms that provide locomotion; the steam cylinders, the piston rods, and the drive wheels. Ah, but that, my friends, is only the surface, the appurtenances by which the locomotive is energized.

  “My friends, if your observation goes no deeper than that, then woe betide you, for you are missing a glorious opportunity to see into the future. Yes, ladies and gentlemen of this new and growing city, this is the beginning of a city that will henceforth be known as the Queen of the Plains!”

  Robert Wright’s short speech was cheered enthusiastically by those who had gathered for the event, citizens of the town, as well as buffalo hunters and soldiers who, while not residents, depended upon the town’s existence.

  As Cade moved through the crowd he saw Jeter and Magnolia, each holding one of the girls. Like so many others, they had come down to watch the arrival of the first train. He looked at them, paying particular attention to Chantal. He had been wrong, oh so wrong, to have neglected her for so long. While he was working on the railroad, the hard labor had, as Jeter suggested, brought him to the realization that Chantal was a blessing, a living connection to Arabella. He had squandered that opportunity, and now through his own foolishness, he would never have that opportunity again.

  “Have you seen Ritter?” Bat Masterson asked, his question bringing Cade back from his musing. “I thought he told us he’d be on the first train into town with our money.”

  “Well, there weren’t any passengers on this train,” Theo said. “I expect he’ll be on the first train with passengers.”

  “You have more faith than I do,” Ed said. “You know what I’m beginning to think? I think the son of a bitch has run out on us. I don’t think he plans to pay us. Hell, I don’t think he ever planned to pay us. I believe he was figuring on just keeping all the money the railroad paid him.”

  “We’ll get paid,” Bat said.

  “What makes you so sure?” Theo asked.

  “Because I intend to make certain that we get paid,” Bat said.

  13

  Though Cade still kept a room in the Dodge House, as it was now being called, he no longer frequented the saloon. It was, he believed, the best saloon in town, but Jeter was tending bar there, and Cade thought it would be better for both of them if he steered clear of the place.

  The beneficiary of Cade’s business now was Hoodoo Brown’s place, which was one block farther down on Front Street.

  Cade and Bat were playing cards in the same game. Bat was a very good player, better even than Cade, but Cade was still winning enough to stay ahead in the game. The other two players in the game changed frequently, as they quickly learned that playing against two players as skilled as Cade and Bat was non-productive for them.

  They had just finished a hand, and one of the new players was getting ready to deal when Theo and Ed stepped up to the table.

  “He’s here,” Theo said.

  “Who’s here?”

  “Ritter. He just came in on the train. And, I heard that he has two thousand dollars with him.”

  “Well,” Bat said with a broad smile. “Perhaps we have misjudged the man. Gentlemen, shall we cross the street to the depot and collect our money?”

  “What about the game?” one of the other two players asked.

  “You can fill our two seats,” Cade said. “And you’ll probably have a better chance of getting back some of the money that you’ve lost.”

  “You’ve got that right,” the other player said.

  Happily, Cade, Bat, Ed, and Theo crossed the street to stand on the newly constructed wooden platform.

  As they had for every train since the railroad had reached Dodge, many of the citizens of the town had turned out for the excitement of the arrival. This was, effectively, end of track for the railroad, because though construction had continued toward the Colorado state line, this was the last settlement on the track that had thus far been laid.

  The four men watched the passengers disembark, but Ritter was not among them.

  “Are you sure he’s on this train?” Bat asked.

  “That’s what Max Robbins told me,” Theo said “And he works for the railroad, so he should know, and Max’s the one who told me he was bringin’ money.”

  “Well, if the son of a bitch is on this train, why didn’t he get off?

  “You know what I think?” Ed asked. “I think he may have seen us through the window, and decided he didn’t want to get off. You did threaten him the last time we saw him.”

  “You may be right,” Bat said. “So why don’t I just go aboard to meet the gentleman, and invite him to join us? And while I’m at it, I’ll remind him that he owes us one thousand, fifty dollars.”

  “Nine hundred seventy,” Ed said. “Remember, he already paid us twenty dollars apiece.”

  “Oh yes, to be sure,” Bat said, smiling. “Nine hundred seventy dollars.”

  The train was pulling three bright yellow passenger cars, and Bat climbed onto the first one, then he walked down the aisle looking for his man. Ritter wasn’t in that car, nor was he in the second. But Bat saw him as soon as he stepped into the third car. Ritter was sitting with his back to the front of the car, and he was looking out the window, studying the crowd that had gathered to meet the train. As a result of his position and diverted attention, his first awareness of Bat Masterson’s presence was when he felt the business end of a pistol being placed behind his ear.

  “Mr. Ritter,” Bat said in a deceptively pleasant voice. “Welcome to Dodge City.”

  “What? Is that a gun placed to my head?” Ritter asked in alarm.

  “As a matter of fact, it is,” Bat answered in the same pleasant voice. “I wonder if you would be so kind as to step off the train with me? Some of your friends are here, and they’d like to say hello.”

  “This is against the law, you know. You have no right to force me off this train.”

  “Oh? Well, perhaps you’d like to report me to the sheriff.”

  “There’s no sheriff in Dodge City,” Ritter said. “There’s no law here at all.”

  “Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong,” Bat said. “There is law in Dodge City. You might call it the law of the six gun. And that means, that at the moment, I am the law.”

  “You . . . you wouldn’t shoot me.”

  “Do you really want to put that to the test, Mr. Ritter?”

  “N . . . no. I’ll leave the train.”

  “Well, that’s very decent of you.”

  Reluctant
ly, Ritter stood, then Bat directed him down the aisle to the back door of the car. When they stepped down from the train there were several who noticed that Bat was holding a pistol leveled toward Ritter’s head.

  “Ladies and gentleman, I apologize for what might seem to you a most discourteous act, I mean, holding a gun on a visitor to our fair town,” Bat said. “And I suppose it does show a certain degree of indecorous behavior. But you see I, my brother, Mr. Deger, and Mr. McCall, worked in the heat of the summer, grading the right of way which allowed the tracks to be laid into Dodge. The tracks that brought this very train to town, in fact. And for this backbreaking labor, we were each promised three hundred dollars apiece by this . . . gentleman.” Bat set the word ‘gentlemen’ apart from the rest of the sentence, and applied a sarcastic tone to its pronunciation.

  “But, for this work, he gave us each twenty dollars.”

  “What? Someone in the crowd called out. “Is that true, Mister. Did you cheat these men out of their fair wages?”

  “I’m going to pay them,” Ritter replied, anxiously.

  “Good, good. You have two thousand dollars on you now, I understand. I’m glad that you have come to pay us.”

  “How did you know I have two thousand dollars?”

  “It doesn’t matter how I know, does it? I mean, as long as you are here to pay us.”

  “No, you don’t understand. This money is to be used for something else. But you needn’t worry, I’ll pay you.”

  “Mr. Ritter, you demanded that we finish the grading within a month’s time, and we did that. Now, just as we were timely in carrying out our task for you, so too, should you be timely in paying us.”

  “But I can’t, not with this money.”

  “Oh, I think you can,” Bat said. As he spoke, he pulled the hammer back on the pistol and it made a deadly click as it rotated the next cylinder chamber under the firing pin.

  “No, no! Don’t shoot me!” Ritter cried out. Reaching down to his belt, he opened the wallet and pulled out a wad of money. “Here! Here is the two thousand dollars!”

  “Oh, heavens, Mr. Ritter, please don’t misunderstand me. I wouldn’t want to give my fellow citizens here the mistaken idea that I am a highwayman. Perhaps If I were robbing you, I would take the entire two thousand dollars. But I’m not robbing you; I am merely collecting a just debt. Now, three hundred dollars apiece for my brother, Mr. Deger and myself, and a hundred fifty for Mr. McCall would be one thousand fifty dollars. However, as you were so . . . generous . . .” again, Bat gave sarcastic emphasis to a word, “as to pay us twenty dollars apiece, we will take only nine hundred and seventy dollars.”