The Last Good Day

by John L. Lansdale

  The cowboy grabbed his hat and gun, scrambled to his feet and ran down the street as fast as he could.

  The mountain of a man was standing behind the bar when they walked in. A big long mirror on the wall behind him revealed the back of his huge bear-like shoulders and arms.

  Yankees and rebel soldiers in uniform, cowboys and sod busters were standing side by side at the bar, belting whiskey down.

  “What’ll you have?” the man asked.

  “Whiskey,” B.W. said and sat the bags down and placed his boot on them.

  The big man placed two glasses on the bar and poured the whiskey. “Got some sarsaparilla for your boy if he wants it.”

  Rance looked at Tommy, he nodded yes and the bartender poured the sarsaparilla.

  “You may not know, but the federals moved in in June and took over,” the big man said. “Have to check your guns or they’ll take you in. So if you will hand them over and that tomahawk until you leave we can get on with things.”

  They handed the mountain the guns and the tomahawk and he set them behind the bar.

  “First one is on the house, fifty cents a shot after that,” he said and poured them another drink and held out his hand. B.W. fished a five-dollar gold coin out of his pocket and laid it in his hand. ”Keep it,” B.W. said. “Not through.”

  He held the gold piece up and stuck it in his mouth to test it. “If you want to come back later without the boy I can find you some good female company.”

  “Need a bath and some fresh clothes right now,” Rance said.

  “Name’s Big Sally,” he said. “Should know don’t take kindly to anybody makin’ fun of my name.”

  “We saw that,” B.W. said.

  Big Sally nodded. “Have to pay the girls extra if you want them with you in the bath,” he said. “The boy will have to bathe later if you do.”

  “Just the bath. I’m trying to quit,” B.W. said and pushed his empty glass toward Big Sally for a refill and Rance smiled.

  Big Sally smiled and poured the whiskey. “Like a man with a sense of humor,” he said. “Hot baths are three dollars, in advance.”

  “We’ll take it,” Rance said. “Pay him, B.W. Give him a ten-dollar gold piece and let him keep the change.” Tommy made a horrible face and shook his head no. B.W. tossed the gold piece on the bar.

  “Think I’m goin’ to like you boys,” Big Sally said.

  B.W. and Tommy looked at Rance then each other and shrugged.

  “Have a seat and I’ll bring you a bottle while you wait on the water to heat. Café next door when you get hungry.”

  Rance and B.W. nodded. B.W. picked up the money, they took their glasses with them and walked over to a table and sat down. “Kind of free with our money there, partner,” B.W. said.

  “Setting up an information source,” Rance said. B.W. tilted his head slightly and started nudging the money bags with his foot. “Bullshit.”

  Big Sally brought a bottle of whiskey and the sarsaparilla bottle over and sat them on the table. Two whores started over to the table and Big Sally waved them off.

  “When we goin’ to see my pa?” Tommy said.

  “Don’t know yet,” B.W. said. He picked up the whiskey bottle and poured himself another drink.

  Tommy and Rance watched as B.W. poured the glass full.

  “Might better slow down on the whiskey, B.W.,” Rance said.

  B.W. nodded, drank the glass of whiskey and turned the glass upside down.

  A dapper-looking man walked in dressed in a well-fitting cream-colored suit wearing a white Stetson, shiny black boots and stepped up to the bar.

  Big Sally nodded to him. “The usual, Mister Travers?” The name got their attention. He didn’t look much different than he did in the picture.

  “Give me a double, Sally,” he said. “Been a hard day dealin’ with all them damn Yankees tryin’ to tell me how to run my railroad.”

  “Got some new brandy in, supposed to be the best,” Sally said.

  Travers nodded and slid his glass toward Sally and he poured it full. “On the house, Mr. Travers, you spend enough with me to get a free drink once in a while.”

  “That’s right neighborly of you,” Travers said, made a saluting motion to Sally with the glass and downed the brandy.

  “Smooth,” he said. “Got to go, Maggie’s waitin.’” He turned away from the bar and saw Tommy. “You think it’s a good idea to let children in here, Sally?”

  “Just passin’ through,” Big Sally said. “Came in for a bath, waitin’ for the water to heat. Be leavin’ after that.”

  Travers walked over to their table. “Where you boys from?”

  “A little of everywhere,” Rance said.

  “Lookin’ for a job?”

  “Nope, come to see you, just didn’t know it would be this soon,” Rance said.

  “Me? Do I know you?”

  “No, but you will,” B.W. said. “Best we talk in private, though.”

  “You from the government?”

  “No, more of a personal matter,” B.W. said.

  “Like what?”

  “Not now,” Rance said.

  “Don’t play games with me, boy,” Travers said. “I don’t like it. If you got somethin’ stuck in your craw then spit it out.”

  “We will at the right time,” Rance said.

  “Stay away from me,” Travers said and stormed out of the saloon.

  “Now look what you done,” Sally said. “You insulted my best customer and benefactor. Weren’t for him I wouldn’t have this place. He kept them damn Yankees from closing me down. He was just tryin’ to be friendly.”

  “We’re not, let him be friendly with someone else,” B.W. said.

  “What you got against Mr. Travers?” Big Sally said.

  “I want to go now,” Tommy said, tears in his eyes.

  “Think we’ll pass on the bath,” Rance said.

  “You don’t get a refund.” Sally said.

  “That’s okay, we’re leavin’ now,” Rance said.

  They stood up. B.W. picked up the money bags and they walked outside.

  “You think Travers figured out who Tommy is,” Rance said.

  “Could be,” B.W. said.

  “I don’t want you to go see him,” Tommy said. “I don’t want him to know.”

  “We’ve come a long way for nothing if we don’t,” B.W. said.

  “It was you two that was so all fired up,” Tommy said. “I told you before I don’t care about it. You just want to be big shots. Leave him alone.”

  “I guess we weren’t listenin,’” Rance said. “The only thing we wanted was for you to have what was rightfully yours.”

  “We both thought we were doin’ the right thing,” B.W. said. “Never thought you had any feelin’s for him after what he did.”

  “I don’t. He can have his damn railroad. I’m goin’ to the livery stable.”

  “Don’t you think you should eat?” Rance said.

  “Not that hungry anymore,” he said and walked away.

  They waited for Tommy to be out of earshot. “Looks like we got to do some thinkin’ about this. Guess it was quite a shock for him to see his pa like that for the first time,” Rance said.

  “Yeah, we’re askin’ him to handle somethin’ most grown men couldn’t,” B.W. said.

  “Was goin’ to get somethin’ to eat but I kinda lost my appetite.”

  “Yeah me too. Even biscuits and whiskey don’t sound good right now.”

  Rance made a face and shook his head. “Best we leave the boy alone for a while. What you goin’ to do with them saddle bags? You can’t keep waggin’ ‘em around.”

  “I ain’t lettin’ this money out of my sight until we spend it or find a safe place for it.”

  “Let’s go back to the livery and see what Tommy’s up to,” Rance said.

  B.W. nodded and they headed for the livery stable.

  About a hour later, a tall skinny man wearing a sheriff’s badge came in the l
ivery carrying a double-barrel shotgun. Riley was sitting at a small table drinking coffee, Tommy chewing a peppermint stick, Rance drinking coffee and B.W. sipping whiskey with the money bags sitting beside his foot. The shotgun and the rifles were on the table.

  “Why are you botherin’ Mister Travers?” the sheriff said.

  “Personal business,” Rance said.

  “I’m Sheriff Seaton Odom. Answer my question ‘fore I get nervous and blow a hole in you.”

  B.W. shoved the money bag under the table with his foot under a stack of old harnesses.

  “Like I said, it’s personal,” Rance said.

  “He’s my papa,” Tommy said.

  B.W. and Rance looked at Tommy. “Thought you weren’t goin’ to do that,” Rance said.

  “Changed my mind. You’re right, part of that damn railroad is mine.”

  “What’re you tryin’ to pull?” Sheriff Odom said.

  “I’m his son,” Tommy said. “My name’s Thomas Travers.”

  “No way,” Odom said.

  “It’s the truth,” Rance said. “That’s why we wanted to talk to him in private.”

  “I don’t know what you jackrabbits are up to, but you’re goin’ to jail until I do.” Sheriff Odom raised his shotgun toward them. “Don’t go for them guns or I’ll blow you to kingdom come. Get on your feet and get out of here. I’ll be right behind you.”

  “Riley,” Rance said, “go tell Travers what’s goin’ on and tell him he needs to talk to us about Alice and his son. Would you do that?”

  “I can,” Riley said.

  “Thanks,” Rance said.

  “Riley Jones, this ain’t none of your business,” Odom said. “Now you three head out that door, you’re goin’ to jail.”

  “The boy too?” B.W. asked.

  “Yeah, the boy too.”

  They walked out the livery stable door and across the street to the jail, the sheriff holding the shotgun on them. They went inside and he directed them to a jail cell with a bar window, two iron cots with soiled mattresses and a piss bucket. He picked up the cell keys and opened the door. “Get in there.”

  They went in the cell and he locked it behind them.

  “This place stinks,” Tommy said.

  “Ain’t no hotel,” Odom said and eased the hammers down on the shotgun. “Gonna go see what Mister Travers wants to do with you.” He walked out of the jail and closed the door.

  “Everybody keeps puttin’ us in jail.” B.W. sat down on a cot and Rance and Tommy sat down on the other one.

  About an hour later, Travers and the sheriff came in. Travers walked up up to the cell door, looking at Tommy.

  “You’re saying that’s my boy?”

  “It is,” Rance said.

  “The woman and the boy were killed in Virginia during the war,” Travers said. “Got a letter from my cousin sayin’ so.”

  “Murdered would be more like it,” Rance said. “Somehow the boy survived.”

  “I’m a lawyer,” B.W. said. “We’re goin’ to take you to court for his share of the railroad.”

  “Well first,” Travers said, “I don’t believe you’re a lawyer. Second, ain’t a judge in these parts goin’ against me. He knows what would happen to him.”

  “If it wasn’t for my mama you could go to hell,” Tommy said. “But I’m doin’ this for her, you sonofabitch.”

  “No son of mine would ever talk that way to me,” Travers said.

  “He would if he was raised in a saloon,” Rance said.

  “I don’t believe any of this,” Travers said. “But to keep it off the streets and put an end to it, I’ll give you a thousand dollars to ride out of here with the boy and never come back.”

  “You let us out of here first,” B.W. said, “and we’ll talk.”

  “No talkin’ to no one, that’s the deal. I advise you to take it or you can stay in there till you rot.”

  “Let us out of here and show us the money,” B.W. said.

  “I’ll give you the money tomorrow. Until then you’ll stay in jail to show you I mean business,” Travers said and walked out.

  “You’re not really goin’ to take that money, are you?” Tommy said.

  “No, just wanted out of jail. May just kill him like I wanted to,” B.W. said. “I’ll think it over tonight.”

  “No,” Rance said, “the boy don’t need it bad enough for us to kill him.”

  22

  Willie Preston picked up his shotgun and bag and stepped up on the car, Charlie close behind with his gear. They walked down the aisle, found a seat and sat down. The bushy-haired fat agent came on board and collected everyone’s tickets. When he walked up to Preston and Charlie he looked at the double-barrel shotgun leaning against the seat. “Those things always make me nervous,” he said, “blow a man in half.”

  “Just about,” Preston said.

  The fat man nodded. “Had an Indian try to bring one on board a few days ago, made him get rid of it.”

  “What’d he look like?”

  “A big one, long black hair dressed in black with a feather in his hat. Don’t know what tribe, though. Creepy lookin’ fella.”

  “By himself?”

  “No, was with a one-armed man and a boy.”

  “Where was they headed?”

  “Traversville, same as you yesterday,” he said and walked on down the aisle.

  “Well, you were right, marshal,” Charlie said.

  “Don’t call me that anymore, Charlie. We don’t want anyone in Traversville to know about me.”

  “Okay, just got so used to it. Hard habit to break,” Charlie said. “How we goin’ to kill ‘em?”

  “Keep your voice down.”

  Charlie leaned closer to Preston and whispered, “Ain’t goin’ to be easy, however we do it. They’re soldiers, know somethin’ about killin.’ May be best to shoot ‘em in the back.”

  “I’ll do the thinkin’, you do the shootin’ when I tell you.”

  “Way it’s always been,” Charlie said. “We’re goin’ to need horses, would hate to be stranded there and have to steal one.”

  “Wouldn’t be your first time, would it?” Preston said. “Checked you out ‘fore I hired you. Was wanted for horse rustling back in Kansas. Figured it was cause of the war and let it go.”

  “Was just tryin’ to keep them from the rebels,” Charlie said.

  “Sure you were.”

  “That’s the gospel truth.”

  “Don’t matter now anyway.” Preston slid down in the seat and pushed his hat over his eyes.

  “You know, marsh...uh, Willie, I ain’t ever goin’ to trust another woman as long as I live.”

  Preston raised his hat up. “First time one shakes her tail at you, you won’t remember a damn thing.”

  “Don’t think so,” Charlie said. “How far is it from Texarkana to Traversville?”

  Preston raised his hat up again. “Charlie, I can’t get no sleep with you talkin’ me to death. I don’t know, supposed to be there in the morning. Now shut up and let me get some rest.” He placed his hat back over his eyes.

  The next morning, Preston and Charlie were the only ones that got off at Traversville and the train moved on to Austin. They picked up their gear and walked across the tracks and saw a livery stable sign at the end of the street.

  “Let’s get some transportation,” Preston said and they walked on down the street to the stable.

  Riley Jones was feeding horses when they walked in.

  Charlie spotted Rance’s buckskin and looked at Preston. Preston nodded.

  Riley sat the feed sack down and walked over to them and looked at the bags they were carrying.

  “You just get off the train?”

  “We did,” Preston said.

  “Looks like you need some horses.”

  “We do.” Preston sat their gear down and cradled the double-barrel in the crook of his arm as he looked around.

  “Where’s the boys that owns them horses,” Prest
on said.

  “Sheriff come rushin’ in here this mornin’ and took ‘em to jail,” Riley said. “Been sleepin’ in the loft.”

  “What he take ‘em in for?” Preston asked.

  “Said they threatened Mr. Travers. He’s a big shot around here, owns the railroad, people kind of cater to him to make sure they stay on his good side.”

  “That the only reason?”

  “Far as I know. Whatever Travers says is pretty much the law.”

  “How much for two horses with tack?”

  “Oh, forty dollars would do it, I guess, for the ones in the corral,” Riley said.

  “Let’s have a look.” Preston walked out back to look at the horses. “Not the best lookin’ ones I seen but they should do for now.” He gave Riley thirty dollars.

  “You’re ten short,” Riley said.

  “Nope, that’s it,” Preston said, “all they’re worth.”

  Riley looked at the money, then looked back at Preston.

  “Okay,” Riley said. “I’ll get ‘em saddled for you. Already fed and watered them.”

  “We’ll help, want to take a look around town,” Preston said.

  “Not a whole lot to look at,” Riley said. “Lot of saloons and hungry people, no work. People robbin’ their neighbors. Big Sally Saloon’s close by if you want a drink or female company.”

  “Might get that drink, think my pal here has sworn off women, though,” Preston said and grinned.

  “That a fact?” Riley said.

  “Depends on the woman,” Charlie said.

  They saddled the horses and Preston and Charlie rode out of the livery stable.

  “The blacksmith said they been sleepin’ in the livery,” Preston said. “The money might be in the livery stable since they was whisked away to jail so sudden-like.”

  “Think the sheriff found it?” Charlie asked.

  “Have to check it out.”

  “What about the smith?”

  “More likely he found it if anyone did,” Preston said. “If he gets in the way or he’s got the money, kill ‘em.”

  “Think I’ll take that buckskin, too,” Charlie said.

  “Fine with me long as we get the money.”

  “What do we do ‘bout them?”

  “Let ‘em be, don’t have to worry ‘bout them long as they’re in jail,” Preston said. “We get that money, ain’t gonna be concerned ‘bout marshalin’ no more no how.”