When Blade started across the city at a brisk walk, Doke wanted to know where they were going.
‘The Great Western Hotel,’ Blade replied. ‘To talk a little business. I have to complete what I set out to do on this trip.’
‘You never did say what you were doing,’ Doke said. ‘I guess the shoot-out with Brown Escott had somethin’ to do with it. Meeting up with Salome an’ Roxanne must of spoiled your plans.’
‘You could say that,’ Blade admitted, but he didn’t give Doke any more information about his mission.
A few minutes later, after picking their way through heavy pedestrian and vehicular traffic, Blade sighted the Great Western. No sooner had he done so than he halted abruptly. Doke saw that Blade was staring at a group of travelers who had just descended from a coach drawn up outside the hotel. Blade glanced at Doke and saw that he had gone terribly pale. In fact, he seemed all of a-tremble and looked around at once in search of a way of escape.
There was nothing either remarkable or fearsome about the group. It consisted of a middle-aged man and woman, an elderly man and a young woman. There was nothing remarkable about them, except maybe for the fact that they were well-dressed and obviously wealthy. They had that air of the rich which prevents them being in any danger from the vicissitudes of life—at least, as seen by the less fortunate. The middle-aged couple had a certain arrogance about them, an arrogance shared by the young lady.
Blade asked: ‘Do you know them?’
Doke could not drag his gaze away from them. ‘No. I never saw them before in all my life.’
Blade said: ‘Now, that’s kind of strange. That’s your mother and father with their man-of-business. The young lady is your sister.’
Doke said: ‘You’re crazy. I don’t have any parents. They died years back. I most certainly do not have a sister.’
‘Then why are you hiding behind me in case they should see you?’
Doke started to lose his temper.
‘I ain’t hidin’ behind nobody,’ he said.
Blade told him: ‘There’s no call for you to go talkin’ that way, Doke. You’re an educated man and the frontier speech don’t come natural to you.’
Doke grabbed Blade by the sleeve and dragged him around the corner. Here he turned on him almost savagely. ‘Out with it, Blade. What do you know?’
‘All right,’ said Blade. ‘Brace yourself. Your real name is Dokeley Struther Wainwright. That gray-haired man is your father Benjamin Dokeley Wainwright. The lady with him is Helen Struther Wainwright. The young lady is Patricia Wainwright. Your father has more money than is good for him. It was the money you ran away from. You thought to make your own way, but it ain’t so damn easy to make out without money when you’ve been used to having it. But the main reason why you cut and ran was because you fell for a nice girl named Sarah. The only thing wrong with Sarah as far as your family was concerned was that she was poor and she was no lady. Sarah took ill and died down in El Paso. You went to pieces and took to the drink. That was a year ago. Now you’re mostly over it, you don’t break up every time somebody mentions the name Sarah. You ain’t forgot though. Right?’ Doke nodded dumbly. ‘You came through twelve months of hell, Doke. Now you’re out the other side and the sun’s shining.’
Doke said softly: ‘When you found me on Boothill, Joe, that wasn’t just chance. You were looking for me.’
‘Sure.’
‘Why did you want to find me, Joe? Why does a man like you concern himself over a soak like me?’
‘Money.’ said Blade. ‘They hired me to find you and bring you back dried out and sober.’
Not without bitterness, Doke said: ‘How much was I worth dried out and sober?’
‘One thousand dollars American.’
They eyed each other steadily.
‘Well,’ said Doke, pulling himself up straight, ‘you had better take me in and go collect your bounty.’
Blade’s face was immobile when he said: ‘It’s your choice, Doke. You can walk around the corner and collect me a thousand bucks. On the other hand you can throw in with me and I can promise you some excitement in the next hour.’
‘I can’t do you out of a thousand bucks, Joe,’ Doke protested.
‘Your choice,’ said Blade. ‘I shan’t starve for want of cash, I swear.’
‘What’s the excitement within the hour?’
Blade laughed and slapped him on the shoulder: ‘I ain’t telling all, man. You have to take a chance.’
Doke was grinning all over his face.
‘I’m damned if I don’t. I’ll go see the old man some time and tell him he don’t have an heir.’
‘You won’t regret it, I promise you,’ said Blade. ‘Let’s go.’
He turned and set off at a brisk walk. Doke fell in beside him. A few minutes later, they came in sight of the saloon where they had left old Mart Summers. Blade led the way across the street, fighting his way through the foot-thick mud which had been left by the recent rain. Doke found himself in the lobby of the hotel. Blade was going ahead like a man who knew exactly where he was headed. From the lobby he went into a hallway. At the bottom of the hallway was a door. He opened it and entered the room beyond. This was a large dining room holding some dozen tables. There were a number of people scattered about the place, eating dinner and talking. Blade picked his way through them, stopped and uncovered his head.
Doke pulled up alongside him and pulled off his own hat.
The two extremely beautiful and extremely down-at-mouth girls at the table looked at them in astonishment.
Salome said: ‘I must say you boys have real gall showin’ your faces around here.’
Roxanne said: ‘If you have come to gloat, go ahead an’ gloat and then get the hell out of here.’
Blade said: ‘Sit down, Doke.’ Both men pulled out chairs and sat.
Salome said: ‘I didn’t hear anybody invite you bums to share our table.’
Blade did not say a word. He tossed something on to the tabletop which clinked attractively. It was a rawhide poke.
‘What the hell?’ said Roxanne.
‘Spanish gold,’ said Blade.
‘Well I’ll be doggoned,’ said Doke. ‘You mean old Mart relented and sent this poke along for us to enjoy. I call that real nice of the old hombre.’
‘That one belongs to Salome,’ Blade said.
Salome looked surprised. ‘Why me?’
Blade produced another poke and tossed it in front of Roxanne. ‘That’s for Roxanne.’
Roxanne clapped her hands together and cried: ‘Why the old darlin’.’
Blade was not through with his magic. He produced another poke from his pocket and laid it in front of Doke. He said: ‘And for my definitely last and final concluding trick, ladies and gen’lemen—’ and laid a fourth poke in front of himself. ‘When old Mart gave me this gold, he did so on condition that the four of us spend the whole kit and caboodle on living together in happy sin. I suggest we start it with champagne.’
Salome leaned across, put her arms around Doke’s neck and kissed him loudly on the mouth: ‘Doke, I got you all to myself at last.’
Doke laughed and kissed her back. ‘Well, Blade just saved me from respectability. Joe, I reckon you’re the greatest magician of all time. You certainly transformed me.’
Roxanne was looking at Blade with shining eyes. She leaned forward and put the flat of her hand against his cheek. ‘He transformed me, too.’
When the champagne came, they drank a toast.
Blade raised his glass and looked around at the three of them. ‘Here’s to sin,’ he said.
‘To sin,’ they all cried.
When they had drunk and Blade had filled their glasses again, Roxanne said to him: ‘Sweetheart, this champagne is sure great stuff an’ I just love the way the bubbles get up my nose, but let’s not go overboard for the stuff. I mean, I can’t wait too long for the sin part of the arrangement.’
‘After all,’ said Salome, ‘she’s
a healthy girl and she’s been on the trail a long time.’
Doke looked at Blade, grinning happily, and said: ‘Worth dropping a thousand bucks for, Joe?’
Blade said: ‘Yes, siree. I reckon it is.’
About the Author
Peter Christopher Watts
(19 December 1919 — 30 November 1983)
… is the author of more than 150 novels, is better known by his pen names of “Matt Chisholm” and “Cy James”. He published his first western novel under the Matt Chisholm name in 1958 (Halfbreed). He began writing the “McAllister” series in 1963 with The Hard Men, and that series ran to 35 novels. He followed that up with the “Storm” series. And used the Cy James name for his “Spur” series.
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