by Paul Lederer
‘Got it all figured out?’ Billy asked.
‘What’s that’ Laredo asked.
‘I never saw a man eat an entire meal without a word,’ Billy Dewitt said with a smile, and Laredo noticed that his plate was indeed empty. He had been thinking while he ate and eating while he thought. Now he was out of both food and thoughts.
‘Was it any good?’ Laredo asked.
‘Pork roast, mashed potatoes and corn on the cob,’ Billy told him. ‘Mighty good. What do we do now?’
‘I wish I knew. If you want to go asking around about Nan Singleton, go ahead. Take the afternoon off.’
‘No, sir! Not if you need me.’
‘That’s just the thing. I don’t know what I’d need you for. I seem to have reached the end of my road. I’m afraid I’m just going to have to sit back and wait for whatever it is that’s going to happen.’
‘Laredo,’ Billy had gotten to his feet and was now hovering over the table, an earnest expression on his young face, ‘what you said to me goes for you, too. We could both just saddle up and ride out of Ellis.’
Laredo shook his head. ‘Not me. It’s my job, Billy. It’s what they pay me for.’
‘There must have been times when you … failed before.’
‘Yes, and I remember every one of them bitterly. I’m not going to let this job turn out to be another one. Jake Worthy is so near I can almost smell him, and he has something I am sworn to recover.’
Stepping out onto the plankwalk once more, Billy, with a toothpick in his lips, began to speak. ‘You know, Laredo, I think that I’ll—’
That was as far as he got before a rifle opened up from the roof of the building across the street. Three shots thudded into the siding of the hotel while a fourth shattered one of the painted front windows. Laredo threw himself against Billy’s knees, rolling the kid down while his eyes searched for a target on the far side of the street. Laredo got to one knee, his Colt in his hand, but there was not even a trailing wisp of smoke to be seen seconds after the shooting.
Men along the street had scattered for shelter when the shots rang out. Now they tentatively emerged from cover, most with pistols in hand, looking around and up and asking one another where the shots had come from and what it was about.
Laredo thought he knew.
‘Are we going after him?’ Billy asked. His eyes were wide. He had lost his hat and his blond hair hung across his forehead. He looked very young and quite fearful.
Laredo shook his head. ‘He’d be long gone by the time we could get over there and find our way to the roof.’
‘Was it Jake Worthy?’ Billy asked, snatching up his hat, taking Laredo’s hand to be tugged upright.
‘Doubt it. I think it was someone he sent out, though. A man who didn’t quite earn his wages.’
‘Think there will be others?’ Billy asked, dusting his elbows off.
‘If there was one, others will be sent until someone does the job right.’
‘I’ve got to say, that surprised me,’ Billy said, his voice still a little shaky.
‘Me too,’ Laredo replied. ‘I didn’t think we’d see anyone crawling out of their hiding places before dark. I suppose this one was eager to win whatever bonus they’ve been promised. He took a chance at midday.’
A man wearing an apron and another in a blue town suit had emerged from the restaurant now that it seemed safe outside. The man in the suit stood in front of the broken glass which now read ‘RANT’ in large red letters, holding his hand to his head. Laredo heard a bit of the complaint.
‘… from Tucson! Know how long it will take … a painter …’
Some of the restaurant workers and a few of the customers had come out of the restaurant now to survey the damage. Among them, straining to peer over a man’s shoulder was the diminutive Nan Singleton, still in her street clothes. Laredo didn’t have to call attention to her. Billy had noticed her. He smiled shyly; she frowned.
‘She thinks it is our fault,’ Billy said. Laredo looked that way again to see that the small, dark-haired girl had slipped away into the building.
‘Well, I suppose it is in a way, don’t you?’
‘Hell of a thing, blaming the victims for the crime,’ Billy mumbled, as if he had discovered a flaw in Nan’s character. ‘Laredo,’ – Billy had given up calling him Riley – ‘how did he even know who we were, that we were looking for Jake Worthy?’
‘We’ve made no secret of it. We’ve been asking around. We’ve visited the marshal’s office as well. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out we’re looking for Worthy. Which leads me to another thought – we’ve got to tell Bean and Burnett that they’re running a risk in Ellis.’
‘They must already know that,’ Billy Dewitt said, his voice cool. ‘Besides, that’s Jesse Goodnight’s job.’
‘I don’t think Goodnight cares if they live or die – they might draw Worthy out into the open for him.’
‘You care about them?’ Billy asked.
‘Not a lot, but they are men and I don’t want to see them killed, do you?’
‘No, of course not,’ Billy answered, though he did so with a sigh of discontent. Neither the dirt farmer nor the Quirt big-shot had done much to endear themselves and, by tracking with Jesse Goodnight, they had revealed their character plainly. They were looking to make some money from the death or capture of Jake Worthy.
‘Let’s take a walk,’ Laredo suggested, and he started along the plankwalk, heading west again toward the saloon where they had seen Bean and Burnett earlier. ‘Keep your eyes open,’ Laredo warned needlessly.
‘From now on I’m all eyes,’ Billy Dewitt said.
‘Here comes the man,’ Laredo said after they had walked a block and a half. Billy looked back down the street to see Marshal Hicks riding into town on his tired-appearing paint pony. ‘Step back into this alley while he goes by.’
Billy looked a question at Laredo as they entered the half-shaded alley cluttered with empty nail kegs and broken crates. ‘When he hears what happened, Hicks will be wanting to have a talk with us. I’d rather have it later than now,’ Laredo said in a low voice as they watched Hicks trail past.
‘You figure he’ll blame us too?’ Billy asked. Laredo nodded his head. ‘Well,’ Billy said with more enthusiasm, ‘at least we now know for sure that Jake Worthy isn’t hiding out at the Garret place.’
‘No,’ Laredo corrected. ‘We know that Hicks didn’t find him there.’ He nodded his head again and the two men walked the rest of the way to the saloon, which seemed to be picking up a head of celebratory steam now. Men jeered, shouted and cursed inside. On the plankwalk, half a dozen men still loitered, holding mugs and at least one whiskey bottle in their hands. Eyes raked and evaluated Laredo and Billy as they approached the batwing doors, but no word was said as the two strangers elbowed their way into the saloon.
‘Do you see them?’ Laredo asked.
‘No, maybe they went … hold it – that’s Bean, isn’t it?’
And it was David Bean, standing at the end of the bar as if he needed it to prop him up. Apparently he had switched from beer to something stronger, and the farmer, who could have had little time to waste in saloons back in Quirt or enough money to do damage to himself with drink, was more than a little intoxicated now. On Goodnight’s money? Jesse Goodnight would not be appreciative if so. Goodnight had earned whatever money he had by laboring for five years on a prison rock pile.
‘We’d better have a chat with him,’ Laredo said. ‘Do you see Lester Burnett around anywhere?’
‘No. Maybe he’s actually trying to get some work done.’
‘Could be. He’s more than a little terrified of Goodnight.’
Reaching Bean, they managed to elbow up to the scarred bar on either side of him.
‘How’s everything going, Bean?’ Laredo asked quietly. Bean’s hand stopped in mid-motion, his jaw dropped and his eyes went nearly as wide as saucers. Maybe he thought Goodnight had caught him loafing on the job.
He glanced at Laredo and then at Billy.
‘Oh, it’s you two,’ Bean said. His voice was slurred, hesitant in forming words. Laredo had to strain to comprehend the man’s drunken speech. ‘What are you still doing here?’
‘Waiting for Jake Worthy to pop up,’ Laredo said, smiling.
‘Well you can forget all about that!’ Bean said. The farmer staggered a little, his planted elbows sliding along the bar. If Billy had not been there to bookend him, Laredo thought the farmer might have toppled over to the floor. ‘The money is ours,’ Bean said, with a damp hiss that reeked of raw whiskey.
‘Who says?’ Laredo asked.
Bean stuttered his way to an answer. ‘We do. Jesse Goodnight does. You two had better make up your minds that there is no posse any more and you …’ he turned on Billy, ‘just ride back to Quirt before someone gets hurt.’ It was all boozy bluster, of course: David Bean was a small, narrow man. He couldn’t have taken Billy Dewitt sober. Laredo maintained his civility with some difficulty.
‘That’s what we came over here for, Bean,’ he said. ‘To tell you that someone took a few shots at us, and you and Burnett are in just as much danger as we are.’
‘Who … says?’ Bean demanded, leaving a long gap between the two words. The whiskey-belligerence remained in his eyes. There was no way to speak to the farmer cogently just now.
Billy gave it one last try. ‘You’d better watch your back, Bean. Because there are men willing to shoot you wandering this town.’
‘Who … says?’ Bean repeated as if he weren’t sure that he had gotten the short sentence out last time.
‘The men with the guns say so,’ Laredo answered. They might as well finish up quickly here. They had done what they could in the way of warning Bean. ‘Where’s Burnett?’ he asked. Maybe they would have better luck with the townsman.
‘Lester…?’ Bean looked around the crowded saloon with puzzlement. A light seemed to flicker on in the back of his fuddled skull. ‘Oh, I recall!’ he said with the triumph of remembering. ‘He went over to the stable to see to that white mare of his. You’d think it was his wife, the way he treats it ….’ Bean’s voice trailed off. He might have been trying to make up a joke to go with his remark.
‘Let’s go, Billy,’ Laredo said in the interlude. Bean had lifted a finger as if he had thought of something he wanted to say, but neither Billy nor Laredo wished to stay around and listen to his drunken rambling.
The air outside was heated, but much purer. The white sun beat down on Ellis from almost directly overhead. Glancing that way, Laredo saw the marshal’s paint pony standing three-legged in the sun.
‘There’s one man who doesn’t treat his horse like his wife,’ Laredo said.
‘Maybe. We don’t know his wife,’ Billy said with a chuckle. Laredo nodded. He didn’t know if Hicks had a wife or how he treated her, but he’d bet he didn’t leave her standing out, tied to a post in the heat of the day.
‘Burnett had his mare at the first stable we visited, didn’t he? The one run by the man with the wild mustache and the prickly temper?’ Dewitt asked.
‘Now, be fair, Billy, he was very nice to Bonnie Sue Garret. But, yes that’s where Burnett had his white mare. I saw it.’
‘I wonder if Bonnie Sue’s rig is still there, or if she went home again,’ Billy pondered.
‘We’ll look. There’s no telling. She might have decided to spend the day in Ellis,’ Laredo said.
‘Why? What could she find to do in this town on an afternoon?’
‘Jesse Goodnight is still here. He hasn’t seen her properly for five years.’
‘You don’t believe … oh, you do believe,’ Billy said as they approached the stable. ‘That doesn’t leave much of a search party left from Goodnight’s bunch, does it?’
They found Lester Burnett grooming his white mare. The townsman’s suit was torn out at the knees and one elbow by now, his fancy derby hat was dust-yellowed. He looked up sharply as Laredo and Billy Dewitt tramped in.
‘You two still here?’ he barked.
‘That’s the way everybody greets us,’ Billy said in a low voice.
‘Still here,’ Laredo told Burnett. ‘Though not by much. That’s what we came to warn you about. We had a man shoot at us from a rooftop with a rifle. We were just lucky; his shots seemed a little shaky.’
‘What’s that got to do with me?’ Burnett demanded, continuing to brush his mare’s flank.
‘I hope nothing for your sake,’ Laredo told him. With his hat tilted back, Laredo now rested with his forearms on the stall partition and added, ‘But it seems logical that anyone wanting me and Billy out of the way will also be wishing to settle his sights on you, Bean and Goodnight.’
‘Jake Worthy, you mean,’ Burnett said with a flicker of concern passing across his eyes.
‘Jake Worthy, I mean. He knows that men have been asking around town about him, and he seems to have a fair idea of who they are and what they’re after.’
Lester Burnett cocked his head to one side and asked, ‘Is this really a friendly warning, Riley, or are you trying to convince us to pull out of Ellis and leave Worthy to you?’
‘You’ll have to decide that for yourself, but if it will help you make up your mind have a look at the front of the hotel restaurant. That’s where we were standing when the rifleman made his try.’
‘If you go up there,’ Billy said, unable to resist a taunt, ‘make sure you keep your wits about you while walking the street.’ The two left without a goodbye.
‘I think he, at least, believes us,’ Laredo said as they exited the stable.
‘Who cares?’ Billy answered shortly. ‘Did you see Bonnie Sue’s buggy parked out back, and that bay horse she was driving in the back stall?’
‘I did,’ Laredo answered. ‘But right now I—’
His sentence was broken off by the sudden bellow of a heavy handgun from within the stable. There was the roar of the pistol, the following thump of the bullets striking wood and the peculiar high-pitched shriek of a man in mortal terror. Laredo dove for the open door of the stable, shaking his Colt free of its holster as two more shots rang out.
EIGHT
‘Burnett!’ Laredo yelled as he took shelter behind one of the stable stalls’ partitions. ‘Are you all right?’ From the corner of his eye Laredo saw Billy Dewitt easing up beside him, his young face grim. ‘Burnett!’ Laredo tried again. ‘It’s Riley!’
‘Riley?’ Burnett’s weakened voice called back. ‘I’m hit. I thought it was you who did it.’
‘Stay down,’ Laredo called back. ‘Did you see which way he went?’
‘I couldn’t see.…’
Then all three men saw the dark shadow darting toward the side door of the stable, rushing toward the stock pens outside. Laredo went after him, rising to his feet and keeping his head low as he raced in a half-crouch toward the door.
The would-be killer, whoever he was, was fast on his feet. By the time Laredo reached the door, there was only settling dust to be seen and no indication as to what way the shooter had gone. Laredo crept forward, gun held high as he eased along the peeling, white-painted wall of the stable, eyes squinting against the glare of the midday sun. It was no good, Laredo knew. While he had to inch along, wary of an ambush, the shooter was legging it away at full speed.
He was ready to give it up when he rounded the corner of the stable to find a tall man in a shabby green jacket and flop hat, standing there, holding the lead to a black horse, rifle in his hand.
The stranger had deep-blue eyes set in a face lined by sun and weather. He had a three-day growth of pepper-and-salt whiskers. Tall and angular, the man simply stood his ground and studied Laredo, rifle remaining in his loose grip.
‘Finally caught up with us, did you?’ Laredo asked and the man’s silence only extended itself. The light breeze from the north picked up fine dust and drifted it around them as Billy arrived, breathless and excited. He halted abruptly at the sight of Laredo and the strange rif
leman watching each other in tableau.
‘Do we want him?’ Billy asked hoarsely.
‘No,’ was Laredo’s answer. At that the man with the rifle turned away, leading his horse after him, and vanished up the narrow alley.
‘I thought maybe that was Worthy,’ Billy said as Laredo turned back toward the stable door, holstering his Colt. ‘I’ve never seen the man, remember.’
‘How’s Burnett?’ Laredo asked.
‘I haven’t seen him yet but he’s well enough to yell and cuss plenty. The little stablehand was checking him over when I came after you.’ Billy’s curiosity still had not faded. ‘That man with the rifle, he’s not the one who shot Burnett?’
‘No. And before you ask, he’s not the one who shot at us at the hotel.’
‘Is he someone you know?’
‘No,’ Laredo answered flatly.
‘Someone who knows who you are, then?’ Billy wanted to know.
‘Not that either,’ Laredo said with a hint of impatience.
‘Look, if it’s none of my business, all right. I thought I had the right to know …’ Billy quit talking. They had reached the stall where Lester Burnett sat on the hay-strewn floor, back leaning against a partition. The stablehand had led the white mare before he tried to tend to Burnett’s wound.
Burnett’s face was red. He had lost his hat. He was in obvious pain. Looking up, he implored Laredo, ‘Get me to a doctor!’
‘I’ll have you cleaned up quick,’ the obnoxious stable man said, his wild mustache twitching with each syllable. ‘You won’t need no doctor. The bullet that clipped your neck ain’t no worse than a shaving nick. The one in your leg went right through. Never caught bone.’
‘You don’t understand, you madman!’ Burnett shouted. The stablehand backed away in a crouch. ‘I’m bleeding! I can’t move my right leg.’ He turned a pleading, pale face – damp with perspiration – toward Laredo. ‘I need some decent help.’