The Devil's Bonanza (A Piccadilly Publishing Western Book

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The Devil's Bonanza (A Piccadilly Publishing Western Book Page 12

by Patrick E. Andrews


  “He won’t,” Ben said. “If he ever breaks his trust even just once, he’ll lose a powerful lot of business.”

  “I’d still feel better if we didn’t light no fire,” Doss insisted.

  “Suit yourselves,” Ben said. “I’m going back to town and have a snort or two. I been out on the trail too long.”

  “Stay here, Ben,” Becky begged. “You don’t need to get drunk tonight.”

  “Yes I do. As a matter of fact, I got a strong yen to get good and stinking drunk. And that what I intend to do.”

  Becky grabbed his arm. “Honey, why don’t you buy a coupla bottles of whiskey and bring ’em back here to drink.”

  “I ain’t gonna do it,” Ben snapped. “I’m tired of sitting on my ass in the dirt.”

  Buford entered the conversation. “Just don’t forget that you and me got a little matter to take care of on the Flats. The widow of your brother has got to be told about him getting kilt. It ain’t right to delay that duty.”

  “That’s the main reason I need whiskey,” Ben said. He removed his bedroll and other gear from his horse, then swung himself into the saddle. “Buford, keep an eye on my goods. I’ll be back later.” He gave the group a wave, then wheeled his horse and rode out of camp.

  “Mr. Kearns,” Becky pleaded. “Please go with him.”

  “I don’t want to go to no saloons,” Doss said. “I’m a man wore out more ways than one. All I ask is to be allowed to rest up for the trip home.”

  “But Ben’ll get into trouble,” she said. “He always does. Somebody’s got to watch over him.”

  “He’s a big boy,” Zachary Steuben said, settling down on his bedroll. “I cain’t go back to town myself. My stummick’s been upset since I ate them pears off that tree the other day.”

  “I told you they wasn’t ripe yet,” Doss said.

  “Ben talks too much when he drinks,” Becky said. “I know ’cause I met him in a saloon. He might say something about the gold and ever’thing. How about you, Rev’rend Turnbull? Will you go after him?”

  “No, Missy,” Buford replied. “I ain’t going into no dens of evil rum and loose women—beg pardon—as long as I’m a man of the cloth.”

  Doss reluctantly got to his feet. “Zachary help me saddle up, will you? There’s no sense in taking a chance that Ben’ll invite more trouble than we’ve already had.”

  “Sure, Doss,” Zachary said. “I’ll keep an eye out for you ’til you get back.”

  “Ben had a good idee when he set up a hidden camp,” Doss said. “Make sure it stays that way. No fires.”

  “Sure thing, Doss,” Zachary agreed, “I reckon I’ll just sit here and chew on some jerky while I think of Edna Lee. I wonder if she’s had the baby yet.”

  ~*~

  Doss rode wearily back to Amarillo in the failing light of dusk. He would have preferred to be loafing back in camp with Zach and Ez, but he had to admit that the idea of a few drinks appealed to him. Perhaps he and Ben could find some quiet table and wile away a few hours by getting mellowly drunk, the way Doss did at home. He preferred to drink his whiskey in the late evening at the kitchen table as Lilly took care of her sewing chores across from him.

  The town’s night life was in full swing as Doss hitched up his horse at a rack on main street. He went into the saloon directly in front of him and glanced around for a sight of Ben. He had no luck, so he wandered down the street checking other drinking establishments. The sights and smells of the interiors increased his yearning for alcohol, and he took time out to treat himself to a beer in the fourth bar before he continued his search.

  Ben was in the sixth place he looked. Doss joined him at the bar. “Howdy.”

  Ben looked up surprised, but seemed happy to see him. “Hell, Doss, I didn’t think you was coming to town.”

  “I thought I’d have a couple with you,” Doss said, trying to act friendly.

  Ben accepted the statement in the spirit it was made. “I’m right pleased to down a few with you, pard,” he said warmly. He motioned to the man standing beside him. “Say, I’d like you to meet a feller I ride with. His name’s Doss Kearns. What’s yours again?”

  “Andy Watkins,” the drinker said, offering a hand to Doss. “Nice to know you.”

  “Same here,” Doss said. He signaled the barkeep. “Whiskey.”

  “Whiskey it is.”

  “By God,” Ben said, “me and ol’ Doss have been through a lot, ain’t we?”

  Doss sipped the drink that was served him. “Yeah. I reckon we have.” He now realized that Ben was more than just a little drunk.

  “We dang near got kilt together,” Ben said to Watkins. “That makes a coupla fellers mighty close, don’t it?”

  “I reckon,” Watkins said. He eyed the two closely. “What do you fellers do together?”

  “We get along, that’s what we do,” Ben said, laughing.

  “Good to see,” Watkins said. “Are y’all ready for another snort?”

  “You betcha!” Ben replied.

  They had several more drinks, but Doss took his whiskey slowly and carefully. The last thing he wanted was to get falling down drunk with a man as unreliable and volatile as Ben McKenna.

  “You boys seems to be having fun,” a feminine voice said behind Doss.

  He turned to see a trio of saloon gals who had wondered over to that part of the bar. The barkeep had undoubtedly now figured them out as big spenders and had signaled the women to move in and keep the celebration going.

  “We’re enjoying ourselves,” Doss said agreeably.

  Ben turned and smiled at the women. “Now looky here, would you? These three mighty fine gals want have a few drinks with us.”

  “We sure do,” one said, moving in and putting an arm around Ben’s waist. “How about buying whiskey for some ladies?”

  “Hell, yes!” Ben exclaimed. “Hey, barkeep, give these li’l ol’ fillies something to wet their whistles.”

  A freckle-face redhead took Doss’ arm. “How about you, big feller? Are you out for a good time?”

  Ben roared with laughter. “He sure as hell oughta be. When’s the last time you had any, Doss? By God, you’d better get some here or your old lady’s gonna think you busted a crate of eggs in her when you get home.”

  The women all laughed at his humor, and Doss grinned in spite of himself. “I reckon I can wait. But I’d be pleased to buy you a drink.”

  The women downed their first round quickly and signaled for refills as Doss slid the money across the bar. Ben kissed the nearest girl. “Ya’ll drink up. There’s plenty more where that came from.”

  “Say! You are a sport, ain’t you?” the woman remarked.

  “I got lotsa money, gal,” Ben said. “I just pulled off the job of the century.”

  “Ben!” Doss hissed.

  “What’s the matter?” Ben asked, swaying as he stood at the bar. “You got a burr under your saddle, Doss?”

  “Nope,” Doss said. “It’s just that I don’t think these ladies is inter’sted in our business dealings.”

  “How the hell do you know?” Ben asked. He turned to the women. “Are you inter’sted?”

  “Sure,” the woman hanging on to Ben said. “Tell us about it.”

  “Well,” Ben began, “I knowed about this here mine—“

  “Ben, godamn it!” Doss cried out

  “Well, hell, I ain’t gonna tell ’em ever’thing,” Ben said. “And you quit yelling at me.”

  “You’re talking too much,” Doss said angrily.

  “You listen to me, Doss Kearns, you may be a big deal out there on the Kiowa Flats, but that don’t mean shit to me. I’ll talk to who I want to talk to, when I want to and, godamn it, where I want to.”

  “We better go, Ben,” Doss said.

  “I told you that you wasn’t telling me what to do.”

  Doss knew it would be impossible to leave. Ben would simply get drunker and drunker until he revealed too much about the robbery. That would mean law
officers or bandits on their trail. He cleared his throat and tried to keep his voice calm. “We got to leave early in the morning, Ben. I think we’d best—“

  Ben grabbed his shirt. “Don’t go telling me nothing you big mouth son of a bitch!” With that, he gave Doss a hard push.

  Doss hit the bar and rolled along it, bumping into several patrons. He knew what he had to do. He immediately charged Ben, driving a heavy fist full up under his jaw.

  Ben’s eyes rolled upwards and he dropped. Andy Watkins threw a quick punch that whipped Doss’ head around. The farmer responded with a vicious shove, followed by a combination of telling blows that felled the man.

  Others around the bar fell into the fracas and the scene suddenly erupted into a near riot as the saloon gals fled out of the way of wild fists and boots. This was a situation they knew well.

  Doss, trying to get hold of Ben to pull him out of the saloon, was punched several times by other scrappers in the crowd. Within moments the situation was completely out of hand, and Doss found it impossible to find Ben in the violent struggling as the drunken patrons tried to beat each other senseless.

  He was still looking for Ben when the sheriff and deputies waded into the disturbance and began making arrests.

  ~*~

  Orvie McKenna leaped from the farm wagon and whistled to the Steuban dog as his mother eased herself down from the high seat.

  “Don’t you tease him, hear?” Elvira said, going up to the house.

  “No, ma’am,” Orvie replied, petting the playful animal.

  “Edna Lee!” Elvira called out as she walked up to the door. “It’s me Elviry.”

  “Oh, do come in,” Edna Lee said from the kitchen. “There ain’t nobody with you is there? I’m nursing the baby.”

  “Just Orvie,” Elvira replied, entering the house. “And he’s playing with Sport.” She glanced at the new mother and child. “How do you feel? Nora said you was ailing a little.”

  Edna Lee, holding her child to her breast, nodded. “I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I feel so foolish.”

  “It’s as natural as can be,” Elvira said. “This was your first and it took a heap outta you. The next will be easier, believe me.”

  “Zachary’s gonna be with me the next time,” Edna Lee said. “And I know that’s what’s keeping me under the weather too. All this uncertainty is making me nervous.”

  “We all feel it, dear.”

  “You don’t seem to, Elviry. You’re so strong and sure of yourself.”

  Elvira laughed. “No I ain’t, child. I’m just as worried as you are.”

  “Lord! Why’d we get into all this? I wished we’d’ve forgot the loans and gone off somewheres else.”

  “No you don’t,” Elvira said. “When our men come home with that cash money, things’ll be back to normal. Even better. You mark my words.”

  “Oh, Elviry, what if they go to jail? Robbing that gold is against the law no matter if a bunch of crazy folks got it or not. It’s theirs not ours.”

  “Now nobody is going to jail.”

  “What if they get hurt? Or worse.”

  “Don’t talk silly, Edna Lee.”

  “I wish I knowed for sure what was gonna happen,” the younger woman said. She covered herself and brought the baby up to her shoulder for burping.

  “We’ll just have to trust in the Lord and bide our time in patience and good thoughts,” Elvira guaranteed her.

  “Stealing is wrong,” Edna Lee declared. “I been thinking on it all the time lately. What we’re doing is hurtful to other folks and I cain’t help but feel terrible about it.”

  Elvira forced herself to put on a cheerful smile. “My! Why in the world do we have to think such dark thoughts? There’s really no reason for it a’tall. Ever’thing’s gonna turn out fine and we’ll all laugh about how worried we was when it’s over.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” Edna Lee conceded. She rocked the baby gently and hummed. Suddenly she looked up at her older friend. “How come Mary Beth Dawkins ain’t come ‘round? Is she mad at me or something?”

  “I don’t know,” Elvira said. “She’s been keeping to herself quite a lot lately. It’s almost like she don’t want to see none of us.”

  “It ain’t like her, That’s one more strange thing that’s happened since the men left. Even the weather ain’t natural.”

  Elvira shivered in spite of herself. Once again the feeling of outright dread swept over her like Satan himself had just walked into the room.

  ~*~

  “Kearns!”

  Doss looked up from the cell where he had wrangled a corner spot in the crowd of sleeping drunks.

  “Kearns! Answer up, godamn it!” the deputy snapped.

  “Yeah?” Doss replied, forcing himself unsteadily to his feet. “I’m Kearns.”

  “Let’s go. Somebody went your bail.”

  “What about my friend?” Doss asked.

  “Who’s that?”

  “Over there,” Doss answered, pointing to an adjoining cell where Ed McKenna was sleeping it off.

  “That son of a bitch! Me and the others have been thinking on dragging him off for a special session of ass-kicking.”

  Ben had gone crazy mad when they brought them all in, and kept the place in an uproar most of the night. Deputies had charged into the cell on three separate occasions, administering beatings before Ben finally collapsed and lay silent.

  Doss followed the deputy out of the cells to the sheriff’s office. Zachary Steuben and Buford Turnbull were waiting for him. They watched as Doss’ belongings were returned. Buford said, “We got the horses outside.”

  They left the jailhouse and stepped out into the morning sunshine. “What about Ben?” Doss asked.

  “We tried to get him out,” Buford said. “But they wouldn’t hear of it. He musta been powerful mean and drunk.”

  “He was,” Doss said. “Are y’all hungry?”

  “Yeah,” Zachary said. “We’ve been in town since before sunup. We was wondering why you and Ben been never came back to camp. We left Becky back there by herself.”

  “If the gal stays hid, she’ll be all right,” Doss remarked. “There’s a cafe across the street. Let’s get some vittles and sort things out.”

  The restaurant was a small dingy place that served a meal of eggs and beans with black coffee. The three sodbusters settled down to take in some nourishment. Buford chewed his first bite of the beans, then said. “I reckon we’ll just leave Ben where he is.”

  “We cain’t do that,” Doss said. He motioned to the waiter behind the counter. “Hey, you got’ny bread?”

  “Hell no,” he answered. “If I had’ny, I’da give you some.”

  “Just asking,” Doss said.

  “And I’m just answering,” the other replied. Then, knowing the beans were undercooked and not wanting any arguments about it, he went back to the kitchen.

  “If the sheriff won’t turn Ben loose we cain’t do nothing about it,” Buford said. “They might even give him a jail sentence.”

  “It ain’t right to go off and leave him,” Doss said. “We was all in this thing together.”

  “Aw, hell, Doss!” Zachary moaned. “I want to go home to Edna Lee.”

  “Godamn it, I want to get back to the Flats too,” Doss said. “But we cain’t just leave him here in jail without at least trying to get him out.”

  “He’s a damn killer,” Zachary said. “We’re prob’ly better off without him.”

  “He still ought to be there when Elviry learns about Ed,” Doss said. “And he’s got her share of the money anyhow.”

  “We’ll leave his share here,” Buford suggested. “And we can take Elviry’s to her.”

  Doss shook his head. “That ain’t gonna work, Buford, and you know it. That Ben ain’t right in the head. He’ll start thinking on us taking that money and pretty soon he’ll turn it around in his mind that we stole it from him. The next thing you know he’ll come riding back to the F
lats looking for trouble.”

  “You could be right,” Zachary admitted.

  “It’s best to take him with us,” Doss argued. “Then after a bit he’ll wander off with Becky and we’ll be shut of him for good.”

  “Agreed,” Buford said. “Let’s finish eating and go back to the jail. Maybe the lawmen cooled off some.”

  Fifteen minutes later they were back at the sheriff’s office standing in front of the desk. The peace officer shook his head. “That son of a bitch is in big trouble here in Amarillo. And I’m gonna take a close look through my wanted posters first chance I get. I’ll bet he’s on the run from somewhere.”

  “He’s just a farmer,” Doss lied. “You ain’t gonna find nothing on him. Ben cain’t hold his likker, that’s all.”

  “I said no!”

  “We’ll get him right outta town,” Doss promised. “The minute he steps through that door we’re heading north as fast as our horses can carry us.”

  The sheriff thought for a couple of moments. “So y’all ain’t gonna hang around Amarillo?”

  “No, sir.”

  “I’ll tell you what,” he said, pulling a ledger from a desk drawer. “I’m gonna charge him with breaking the peace and resisting arrest. The fine is twenty-five dollars cash money on each account. Then I’ll lay another fifty on him for damages at the saloon. It’ll cost one hunnerd Yankee dollars to get that useless bastard the hell out of my lockup.”

  “We’ll pay,” Doss said. He looked over at Buford. “Did you bring any cash money with you?”

  “I sure did.” He pulled out some bills and counted out the correct amount.

  “I don’t think he’s worth it,” the sheriff said. “But if he’s that good a friend to you, I’ll turn him loose.”

  As they waited for Ben to be released, they heard a scuffle coming from the cells. It was obvious that Ben was getting a few parting punches from the local law before he was officially released from their custody.

  Ben limped into the office to get his pistol and holster belt. He stood silently as they were tossed to the desk. He retrieved them without further comment and led the three sodbusters back out to the streets.

 

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