“I promise, Señor,” the kid was saying. “He is a friend of yours.”
“Hello, Jack,” I said.
He whirled around, but then recognized me and relaxed. He let go of the kid and put out his hand and we shook.
“Here, boy,” I said. I give the kid his other peso. “But you forget all about this. Seguro!”
“Si, Señor,” he said. He went skipping up the street, his money clutched in his hand, just tickled near to death. I watched him, envying him and wishing that two pesos was all it took to make me that happy.
“Let’s go inside,” I said. “I’ve looked the place over.”
“All right,” Jack said. We went in and took a table at the back and the bartender came over and we both ordered whiskey.
Jack Basset is a little slight man about thirty-five or -six. He’d been around Corpus when we were all growing up and he’d always done right by me and Les and Tod. I think he’d worked for Les’s daddy for a spell, but I wasn’t sure. I remembered him best from when I was about twelve years old, him showing me how to rig a drag rope on a horse I was trying to break that had a bad habit of kicking. I knew that he’d been in and out of trouble. Nothing big, just stuff that’ll come to you if you’re a little wild and don’t mind a little easy money. As far as I knew he hadn’t been up to anything for a while. The last I’d heard of him he was buying Mexican gold and then smuggling it back into the States, where he could get a better price and make a little profit. It wasn’t much of a business, but them as didn’t need much were said to be content with it.
“Well, Jack,” I said.
He raised his glass and I did likewise. “Here’s luck,” he said.
We knocked our drinks off and then set the glasses down. “I didn’t know for sure it was you,” Jack said. “I figured it was, but I didn’t want to take no chances.”
“I didn’t want to give the kid my name. I didn’t know who he might talk to and I figured you’d be looking for me anyway.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I was expecting you.”
I signaled for the barman and he came over and gave us another drink. I waited until he’d gone and then looked at Jack.
“I appreciated the telegram.”
He shrugged. “Aw hell, Will. That’s nothing. I’ve always been friendly with you boys, you and Tod and Les.”
I’d taken about half of my second drink, but I finished it and set my glass down. “Les?” I said. I looked at Jack. “Is he alive, Jack?”
“He was this morning, that’s all I can tell you. But, Will, he’s shot up bad. They hit him four times. Two in the chest and one in the neck. The one in the neck ain’t bad and then he caught one in the leg, but one of them ones in his chest is dead center. I don’t know how he’s hung on this long.”
“I see,” I said. I could feel a feeling rising in me. I called to the bartender again and told him to leave the bottle. I didn’t want to say anything for a second or two, so I spent the time pouring us out another drink.
Finally, I asked: “Who done it?”
“They was two of them, Will. One of them I don’t know too much about except what I’ve found out since they went for Les. His name is Morton. The other one you know.”
“Who?”
He was looking at me. “Bob Bird,” he said.
“Bird. Bob Bird.”
“The same.”
I took another sip of my drink, thinking on what Jack had told me. “Hell, Jack, they’re not law. They’re goddam bounty hunters.”
“Bird ain’t,” he said, “and we both know that. But this Morton is. I understand he’s with the Cattleman’s Association and he’s supposed to be some kind of federal marshal. He’s let it out that he’s been about one jump behind ya’ll ever since you hit a bank over in Uvalde. He tracked Les to here.”
“Well,” I said, “I can’t take them on two at a time, but I’m willing to try them in singles.”
“Why don’t you think on it?” Jack said. He got the bottle and poured himself another glass of whiskey. “Don’t go rushing into anything, Will. I’d help you if I could, but both these boys is pretty tough customers.”
“I don’t want no help,” I said. “Les was my partner. Besides, Jack, you’ve done enough.”
Jack was right about them being rough customers. I didn’t know Morton, of course, but if he was running with Bob Bird it was a good bet he’d qualify. Bird had been a deputy sheriff up in El Paso for a time and then he’d got in the rangers. He had a hell of a reputation for quick and the word was that he was a damn good shot in the bargain. Some said he was about half outlaw, but I didn’t know. He hadn’t stayed with the rangers too long. The railroads had been coming through and they were willing to pay good money to detectives who could see that nothing went wrong with their schedules. Bird had went into that and it was the last I’d heard on him. I’d seen him around from time to time and he knew who I was. That meant we’d get into it on sight.
“How’d it happen, Jack? I thought Les was laying out. I had a telegram from him to that effect.”
“Hell, he was,” Jack said. “Fact is, it was me that picked up your first telegram and taken it out to him and then wired his answer back to you. Me and Amos Bently—you wouldn’t know him—had us a room right next to Les’s in the hotel there. Then when word got out that men were in town looking for ya’ll he’d taken out to a ranch I know about that’s just outside of town. The night he got shot I thought he was still out there.”
“How’d it come about? How’d they get on to him?”
“I don’t know, Will. I truly don’t. Me and Amos was sitting in the room there one evening—night before last—and about eleven o’clock we heard a hell of a bunch of gunfire. We run out in the hall and seen it was Les’s room and looked in the door and Morton and Bird done had him stretched out. I don’t know what he was doing there—I reckoned he’d come back to get something or other—but they’d caught him and gunned him down. When me and Amos got in the room he was stretched out beside the bed with all them bullet holes in him. Will, I swear to God, I believe them two would have gone ahead and killed him if we hadn’t come in the room. As it was we had a hell of a job talking them into carrying him over to the infirmary. Bird said he was going to die anyway and what was the sense of going to all that trouble and delaying them getting the body back to Texas. I told them they’d better see to the boy or I’d by God go to the Mexican authorities and raise such a stink that they’d be delayed anyway.”
I was listening to him, fiddling with my empty glass. “The law here don’t care,” I said. “They don’t want to mix in.”
“I know,” Jack said. “And naturally they had them a little bench warrant from the justice over there in Uvalde, but I told them I’d get the word out all over Texas if they didn’t do something. They know Les has got plenty of kin and friends.”
“He’s got one,” I said. “I guarantee he’s got one friend.”
“What do you figure to do, Will?”
“First I’d like to see how Les is.”
“You can’t go over there. Morton and Bird are sitting up turn and turn about and they’d spot you sure. Hell, there’s no way you can get in. They’ve got ’em a chair parked right in front of the door of his room and they ain’t moving. He’s worth fifteen hundred dollars to them, you know.”
“I know,” I said. I took some time to pour us out another drink and then looked over at Jack. “I wonder if you might be good enough to go over and see about him. I’d appreciate it.”
“Sure I’ll go, Will. I’d planned on it anyway.”
“Maybe you could figure out some little way of letting him know I’m in town.”
“He ain’t awake, Will. He’s barely breathing, son.”
“Oh,” I said.
Jack looked at me. “I know he was a good friend of yours.”
“The best,” I said.
“Will you want to wait here?”
“How far is it over there?”
&nb
sp; “About a half a mile. It’ll be just as easy for me to walk rather than taking the trouble to get my horse. There’s a saloon right near there. You could wait there if you wanted. It ain’t much of a place, though.”
“That’s all right,” I said. “Let’s do that.”
We got up and left and, as we walked along, I asked Jack which one would be at the hospital. He said Bird had been there in the morning, so he figured it would be Morton. “I think they’ve got a room at the hotel. Probably Bird is back there sleeping right now.”
The streets were dark and nearly empty. It was coming on ten o’clock and nobody was stirring much.
“Jack,” I said, “I’m going to get him out of there if I can.”
“He can’t travel, son. Besides, there ain’t no way you can get him past Morton and Bird.”
“Over their dead bodies,” I said. “That southbound train pulls out first thing in the morning on the return trip and I’m going to take him back with me. I’ll get him down there and get him fixed back up.”
Jack didn’t say anything. Far off I could hear a dog howling in somebody’s backyard. It was a very dark night. After a little he looked over at me. “Will, he’s hit bad. I want you to know he’s in real bad shape.”
“That’s all right,” I said. “He’s tough.”
Jack pointed up the street toward a little square of light that was coming from one of the buildings. “There’s the saloon I was telling you about. The infirmary is just up the street and around the block.”
We went up to the door and I looked in. The place was completely empty except for the bartender, who was leaning against the wall behind the bar, sleeping.
“This will be all right,” I said. “I’ll see you in a little.” I went on in and Jack went up the street. I took a table and the bartender brought me a drink over. I sat there, staring at the door, and didn’t taste my drink for a long time. Finally I drank it down. The bartender started over with the bottle, but I waved him back. “Not yet,” I said. He went back behind the bar and seemed to go back to sleep. Waiting for news is a hard way to wait. I sat there staring at the door.
When Jack came back he ducked in quick through the door and then turned around and stuck his head out and looked back up the street. He watched for a considerable time. Jack is a good man all right.
Finally I called to him. “Come on, Jack.”
He come over to the table and sat down. He didn’t say anything, but he passed his hand across his face like he was tired. The bartender had got himself up when Jack came in and he was bringing over the bottle.
I looked at Jack. “Well?”
“Let’s let this man give us a drink first,” he said.
I waited while the bartender poured our drinks, not saying anything. When he was gone I looked over at Jack. I said, “Well?” again.
“Let me take a taste of this,” Jack said. He drank down part of his whiskey. I was still looking right at him.
“Jack, goddamit!”
He looked at me and then wiped his mouth off. He put his hand over and patted me on the shoulder, clumsily, like a man who ain’t used to patting other men on the shoulder.
“Will, Les is dead. He died late this afternoon.”
He was still patting me on the shoulder and I suddenly shrugged and his hand fell away. I hadn’t tasted my drink, but I all of a gulp took it down. It was cheap whiskey, oily and raw-tasting. You can only get good American whiskey in the first-class bars in Mexico.
“I know this is hard on you,” Jack said.
I put my glass down. “Is whoever was there still there?”
“It’s Morton like I figured and he was still there when I left. He’s seeing to getting the body fixed up to transport back to Texas.”
“You want to do me a favor, Jack?”
“I’ll do what I can, Will.”
“Get Morton out of that hospital.”
“Will, you ought to think on this a little. What’s your rush?”
“That train leaves in the morning,” I said. “I intend to be on it.”
“Will, what in hell could I tell Morton that’d bring him out? They’d be expecting something like this.”
“Tell him it’s me. That I’m outside and I’m going to kill him.”
Jack shook his head. “Now, Will, I ain’t going to do that. He’s been sitting there with a double-barreled shotgun over his knees and he’d come out and blow your head off.”
I remembered the big man I’d seen who’d leaned across the counter of the bank in Uvalde and blowed Chico to pieces with a shotgun. I wondered if the two were the same. It wasn’t unlikely.
“Catch him tomorrow,” Jack said. “Let yourself settle down a little.”
“No,” I said. “If you won’t bring him out for me I’ll wait until he comes out on his own. He’s got to come out sometime.”
“He might be already gone. With Les dead there’s nothing to hold him inside. They can pick up the body in the morning.”
“Then I’m going now,” I said. I stood up. “Jack, will you do me at least one favor? I know you don’t want to get mixed up in this and I don’t blame you.”
“Ask it, Will.”
“Go over to the hotel and keep watch on Bob Bird. I want to know where to find him when I get through with Morton. Will you do that for me?”
He answered slowly. “You know I’ll do it, Will. I’ll trail him to Kansas if I have to, but you better be careful with Morton. Don’t fight him fair.”
“Did they fight Les fair?”
He shook his head and said simply: “You don’t get four bullets in you from two men in a fair fight.”
“All right,” I said. “Will you see to Bird for me? I’ll be over to the hotel as soon as I finish with Morton.”
“I’ll see to it.”
“Thanks, Jack.” I turned around and went out the door.
I was halfway up the street before I remembered I’d forgotten to pay for the drinks. They really should have been on me. I’d pay Jack back first chance I got. He’d understand.
I seen the lights from the infirmary as soon as I turned the corner. It was a low-beamed adobe building, long and narrow. As soon as I got to it, I made a circle around it, checking for doors. There was one in the front and one in the back, but the one in the front was the only one that had a light on behind it. I figured Morton had to come out that way. I got back in the shadows and settled down to wait. I was terrible scared I’d missed him. I waited a few minutes, but, finally, I couldn’t stand it any longer and I went up to the door and opened it and looked in. It looked like an ordinary parlor in a house except there was a long hall leading right off the middle of the room I was looking in. Down a bit was a kind of desk with a man sitting at it. He had a lantern on the table and that was where the light was coming from. I only had the door opened a crack, so I couldn’t see too good. I looked in, thinking about it as the place where Les had died. It kind of give me the willies. I knew I didn’t want to die in such a place. It made me feel bad about old Les. It made me feel goddam bad. I hated to think of him laying in one of them dark rooms all wrapped up in a shroud. He’d been a man that liked his freedom and it damn near killed me thinking about him all closed up in one of them tiny rooms with a sheet over his face. I knew he wouldn’t have wanted to go that way. I knew he’d rather have taken it out on the prairie with the hot sun burning down. I knew he’d rather have caught one right between the eyes and gone out like a light rather than slowly expiring while a couple of vultures sat outside his door and waited to get the money for his body.
Well, Les had been my friend since I was a boy. Which of us could have predicted I’d just have been lurking outside a hospital in which he’d just died? Which of us could have said, at twelve, out on the lake, that we’d have two of us come to such a bad end? It made me feel awful damn bad.
As I watched, a man suddenly came out of one of the rooms and walked up to the man at the desk. He was a great big man, a little fat. His sto
mach hung over his belt a bit. He was carrying a shotgun crooked under his arm. He had his hat on and was wearing a hand gun on his hip. I had no doubt it was Morton. He said something to the man at the desk and then laughed. He laughed by throwing his head back and he laughed so hard his belly shook. I guess he was feeling pretty good about collecting his half of fifteen hundred dollars. I stepped back from the door, but left it partially open. I figured he’d be coming out any minute.
CHAPTER 18
A Long Way to Sabinas
I was positioned in the shadows when the door suddenly swung open and Morton stood framed in the light. He stood in the sill a minute, the shotgun under his arm, looking around. He was a cautious man all right. I knew he couldn’t see me. He was in the light and I was back in the shadow of a tree leaning up against the trunk. I reached down and made sure my pistol was loose in its holster.
Just as he started out the door, I pushed away from the tree and went toward him. I had my head down a little, but I could see him well enough. He spotted me as soon as I moved and stopped and kind of half brought the shotgun up. I kept walking, acting as if I meant to go on by him and go in the hospital. When he seen my demeanor he kind of relaxed and let the shotgun droop down. I’d put a cigar in my mouth and I nodded as I started by.
“Howdy,” I said.
He gave me a sideways look, but didn’t say anything.
I suddenly stopped as I was about to pass him. I didn’t exactly have my head down, but I wasn’t looking him right in the face either. I didn’t know if he’d recognize me or not.
When I stopped he suddenly swung around and kind of lifted the shotgun again. I took the cigar out of my mouth and held it out.
“You ain’t got a match, have you?”
He looked at me a minute. “No,” he finally said, “I ain’t.”
“Damn!” I said. “Been carrying this around an hour wanting to smoke.”
“They’ll have one inside,” he said. He was kind of half turned back watching me. I was on his side and a little behind him toward the hospital.
“Why the big gun?” I asked him. I motioned toward the shotgun.
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