Halliday 1

by Adam Brady

  Halliday stared sourly at Bassett for several moments, and then he stood back and beckoned the two men inside.

  “Judas!” Bassett whispered when he saw the scorch marks of the fire and the judge with his bloodied head.

  “I know you had no part in this,” Halliday said as he pointed to the two corpses he had dragged into a corner of the room, “but you rode with this scum, so you can be the ones to haul them out of here.”

  Wordlessly, the two men rushed to the dead men and started to drag them out to the hallway.

  Judge Cowper appeared to have been sitting there in a daze. Suddenly, he looked up and asked, “What are you men doing here? Halliday? What’s happened? Where’s Beth?”

  “Everything’s okay, Judge. Little harm done. I’ve got a chore to do, and then I’ll be back. You just stay here and take it easy.”

  Halliday followed Bassett and Albert into the yard.

  “Okay,” he said, “now keep movin’ with that garbage. We don’t want it here. Take it back to Henley, where it belongs.”

  “Sure,” Albert hastened to say. “We’re goin’ right now.”

  “Another thing,” Halliday said.

  “What’s that?” Bassett asked quickly.

  “This is your last day in this town,” he told them mildly. “Next time I see you, I’ll kill you. That’s a promise.”

  Bassett nodded and looked away.

  “How about you, feller?” Halliday asked Albert. “You got any argument with that?”

  “Nope,” Albert said slowly. “We’re goin’.”

  “And you’re not comin’ back.”

  “We won’t, Mr. Halliday,” Albert insisted. “We won’t come back. Not never.”

  “Yeah, that’ll be soon enough,” Halliday said as he began to roll a cigarette.

  “Mr. Halliday?” Bassett asked tentatively.

  “Yeah.”

  “Can we get our guns?”

  “Sure. Just be careful you don’t shoot yourselves in the foot, you’re shakin’ so much.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Halliday.”

  Dragging the dead men behind them, the two hardcases had gone several yards down the street by the time Halliday lit the cigarette and took his first puff.

  It was only then that he holstered his gun.

  That was what Bassett had been waiting for. He dropped Shelton’s feet as though he was trying to get a fresh grip on them, and with his back turned, he hastily reloaded his gun. Then he came running back to the house, trying to get a bead.

  As he charged through the knot of neighbors outside the judge’s fence, someone stuck out a boot.

  Bassett fell hard, and the gun discharged as it shot from his hand and bounced against a picket by the gate.

  Halliday ambled down the path and picked up the gun, shaking his head.

  “Didn’t I tell you two to be careful with those guns? You damn near came close to shootin’ yourself in the foot, Bassett. I’m goin’ to have to confiscate this hogleg for your own good, I guess. Now get the hell outta here.”

  Albert watched Bassett pick himself up, his face a flaming red.

  “Albert?” Halliday called. “Come back here and help your pard.”

  Albert nodded and hurriedly returned to the judge’s front gate.

  “Why’d you go and do a thing like that, you jughead?” Albert scolded Bassett. “You wanna end up dead?”

  “I thought you bums understood what I said,” Halliday complained wearily. “A man only has so much patience and no more, you know.”

  “We’re goin’, Mr. Halliday,” Albert said grimly. “If this idjut comes back, he’ll be doin’ it on his own. I’ve had enough of this, and I don’t want no more.”

  “Mighty sensible, mister.”

  “Yeah,” Albert muttered as he dragged Tom Bassett back to the two corpses already stiffening on the edge of the street.

  “I figure the excitement’s all over now, folks,” Halliday told the neighbors as he sauntered back to the house. “You might as well go on home.”

  With some reluctance, the townspeople began to disperse. A few had come right into the yard and were peering in the front windows.

  Judge Cowper was on his feet now, and he agreed with Halliday;

  “Off you go now, folks. I have to talk to Mr. Halliday here, in private.”

  As soon as they were alone, Cowper said;

  “I’m not sure what happened, Halliday. Two men busted in and grabbed Beth. When I went to get my gun, one of them knocked me out. Beth is still so ... distraught that I can’t get any sense out of her.”

  Cowper’s lips thinned and a pained look came into his eyes.

  “Do you know how ... bad it was, Halliday? Heaven, if they so much as—”

  “They didn’t,” Halliday said quietly. “I got here in time.”

  Cowper breathed a sigh of relief.

  “How can we ever thank you, Mr. Halliday? After the way we treated you, what made you come back?”

  “I’m not sure, Judge. Somethin’ just felt like ... unfinished business. I knew Henley wouldn’t give up that easy, I guess.”

  Cowper nodded.

  “I certainly was wrong about that,” he said. “I thought we could handle him, with Rafe gone. Now look what he’s done. I’ll never forgive him for what’s happened to Beth. I’ll get him for this, if it’s the last thing I do!”

  Halliday moved restlessly around the room, inspecting the damage to the floor and helping himself to a drink.

  “I’ll handle Henley, Judge,” he said finally. “I started this and it should be up to me to finish it.”

  “No,” Cowper insisted, “you’ve done enough, too much even. This is personal, between him and me.”

  “It’s real nice to see you so full of fight, Judge,” Halliday said gently. “But this ain’t your kind of fight. You know better than I do that no court of law would blame him for what a couple drunken hired hands did. If the law operated like that, half the ranchers in this country would be in jail on account of somethin’ their cowhands took it into their heads to do. You know what it takes to stop a man like Henley. You have to fight fire with fire. That’s why you asked me to come here in the first place.”

  Cowper looked at him thoughtfully.

  “I just can’t understand why you’re willing to do this,” he said finally. “I don’t feel like we deserve it.”

  Halliday smiled faintly. “Put it down to loose ends, Judge. I like to ride away from a job knowin’ that I’ve left everything nice and tidy. Shimmer Creek is still a long ways short of tidy—we both know that. It doesn’t feel right to me.”

  Halliday finished his drink and set down the empty glass. He was about to leave when Beth stepped quietly into the room.

  She was wearing a simple cotton dress with long sleeves and a frilled high neck so that only the bruises on her face were showing. Her hair was brushed and tied back loosely with a satin bow.

  Halliday removed his hat and gave her a small and respectful smile.

  “You Cowpers sure are made of stern stuff. Neither one of you looks like you’ve been through anything worse than gettin’ to bed a little late.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Halliday,” Beth said calmly. “Did you kill those two men?”

  The judge tried to interrupt, anxious to stop her if she was going to tell Halliday again that there was no excuse for his kind of violence.

  Before he could speak, Halliday was giving his answer in a flat, quiet voice.

  “Yes.”

  Beth ran the tip of her tongue over her lips and left them shining.

  “I’m obliged to you more than I can ever express then, Mr. Halliday. They were about to ...”

  “I know what they were about to do.”

  “Try not to think about it anymore, honey,” the judge said. “I only wish I had been able to get to that gun before they knocked me out!”

  “Mr. Halliday,” Beth went on, “when I came to again, I was on my bed and I was simply too frightened to m
ove or think. What happened?”

  Halliday shrugged.

  “Two more of Henley’s men turned up—but they won’t bother either of you again.”

  “You mean you killed them, too?” Beth asked softly.

  “No. They’ve decided to leave town for good of their own accord.”

  Halliday moved back a couple of paces, making it clear to them that he wanted to be on his way.

  Beth glanced at the bundle of torn clothing laying on the sofa and realized she was looking at every stitch she had been wearing earlier in the evening.

  Her cheeks reddened, and she went slowly to the sofa and scooped up the ragged bundle.

  She stood in front of Halliday for a moment then, looking up at him earnestly.

  “Thank you again, Mr. Halliday,” she whispered.

  Halliday nodded awkwardly, fitted his hat to his head and headed for the door.

  Six – Threats and Promises

  “Mr. Halliday.”

  The call came from the alley beside the saloon. Buck Halliday stopped, his hand automatically dropping to his holster.

  As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see Julie Henley standing near the saloon wall. He did not know why, but he got the immediate impression that she had been there for some time.

  “I saw what you did to Tom and Ben,” she said. “They won’t be back.”

  “I’m not surprised, Mrs. Henley.”

  “My name is Julie,” she told him, and there was an edge of annoyance to her voice.

  “As you like.”

  Halliday began to move away, but she put out her hand and held onto his arm.

  “What are you goin’ to do now, Buck?”

  “See your husband and give him some sound advice.”

  “Are you goin’ to kill him?”

  “Not unless I have to.”

  “You won’t. He doesn’t have the guts to stand up to anyone ... let alone you. You’ve run rings around him and all his men. He’s on his own now. Do you know what that means?”

  “Tell me.”

  Julie moved closer to him, and the scent from her soft hair tickled his nostrils. He looked down at her and saw the pleasure in her eyes.

  “He’s finished, Buck. You’ve beaten him. He’s going to run away like a whipped dog. That’s what he always does when somebody stands up to him. And this time, I’ll have what he leaves behind.”

  Julie moved out of the alley into the streetlight washing over Halliday’s broad shoulders. Her face was turned up to him, and she seemed to be positively glowing with excitement.

  Halliday was reminded of how she had looked as she lay on the bed in his room, but then another picture formed in his mind—Beth Cowper lying naked on her uncle’s floor. He said;

  “You intend to stay on then?”

  “Yes, why not? My only worry in this town is my husband. With him out of the way, I can hire some capable men and make a good living running the saloon.”

  Halliday eased her fingers from his arm and began to move away. Julie followed him and pressed herself against him.

  “I want you with me, Buck. We can make ourselves rich with all the comforts. I’ll be good for you, I promise.”

  “I got things to do first,” Halliday shrugged. “Then we might talk about it. You stay here. I want to see Henley on his own.”

  “Whatever you say, Buck,” Julie said, but before he could step away from her, she planted a kiss on his unresponsive mouth.

  Halliday stepped around her and cut down the alley to the back door of the saloon. When he entered the barroom, he saw that Jason Henley was waiting for him with his gun drawn.

  Halliday glanced at him and went to lean against the counter.

  “You’re runnin’ short of men, Henley,” he said tonelessly, “Mitchener and Shelton are dead. Bassett and Albert have left town, and I don’t reckon they’ll be back.”

  Henley shook his head in grim denial.

  “You’re lyin’, damn you! They’ll be back. They won’t run out on me after all I’ve done for them.”

  “What you’ve done for them, mister, is make sure everybody in this town is just itchin’ to string them up. You’re all on your own now and the town doesn’t need you or want you. So I’m giving you half an hour to pack your things and get gone. If you’re here after that, I’ll come looking for you.”

  Henley’s hand was shaking, and his face was white from a combination of hate and anger.

  “By hell, you’re the one that’s going to die, not me,” he snarled. “You don’t scare me ...”

  “I’m givin’ you a chance you don’t deserve, mister,” Halliday said. “What you do with it is your business.”

  “A bullet’ll stop you, same as it will any other man,” Henley snapped, and his finger tightened on the trigger.

  Halliday continued to watch him, but there was no sign that he was concerned by the threat.

  “Maybe you don’t know that Mitchener and Shelton beat up Judge Cowper and tried to rape his niece. They came close to burnin’ the judge’s house down, too. When folks get wind of that, they’ll come lookin’ for you anyway. I don’t figure they’d give you a chance to get out of town—they’d just string you up to the first tree they came to.”

  Henley took a step back, torn between hatred and fear.

  “I hear your wife will be stayin’ on and takin’ over the saloon, so you don’t need to worry about her future,” Halliday said as he went to the batwings and glanced out at the town clock. “Half an hour, mister. Startin’ now.”

  Henley was shaking with rage now, and Halliday decided that he had pushed the man far enough. He simply folded his arms and waited to see what Henley would do.

  Henley still had the gun he had been holding when Halliday walked into the barroom, and now he simply raised it and fired. The bullet nicked Halliday’s shoulder, but before Henley could fire again, Halliday had struck a sledging blow to the man’s neck and kicked the gun from his hand.

  Henley was backing desperately away now and trying to shield his face with his hands, but Halliday followed and drove him across the room with a series of stinging blows.

  The saloon man was beginning to buckle at the knees, but Halliday grabbed him by the front of his shirt and dragged him up the stairway to the rooms above the saloon.

  “Ready to start packin’ now, mister?” Halliday asked calmly. “You’re runnin’ out of time, you know.”

  Snorting and gasping through his swollen nose, Henley stumbled into a room with an open door and pulled a carpetbag from under the brass bed.

  Then he simply stood there with his head hanging and the empty bag dangling from his fingers.

  “I ... I don’t know where to start,” he muttered.

  “Well, I’ll tell you,” Halliday said. “Pack enough clothes to get you at least as far as Kansas. And you can take a hundred dollars in foldin’ money, no more. Anything above that is gonna get handed back to the folks you’ve been bleedin’ dry.”

  Henley sagged against the wall, wiping blood from his face. He fingered his swollen jaw, and then he began to pull shirts and collars out of a chest of drawers.

  “Damn you to hell, Halliday,” he said in an exhausted voice.

  “Pack,” Halliday ordered. “You’ve still got one other thing to go before you get out of here, and time’s a-wastin’.”

  “What other thing?” Henley asked dully.

  “I want you to sign everything you own over to your wife.”

  Finally, the carpetbag was full and the papers had been signed. Henley sighed and fished in his vest pocket until he came up with a small brass key. He fitted the key in the lock of the top drawer.

  As his hand dipped into the drawer and his shoulders bunched, Halliday stepped across the room and slammed the drawer on Henley’s wrist. Then he hurled the man across the room. When Henley hit the wall, Halliday turned and looked in the drawer, rummaging through the papers and small change until he found the little sneak gun wrapped in a line
n handkerchief.

  “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?” Halliday said with a shake of his head.

  Henley was propped against the wall now, watching him but making no attempt to move.

  “I wonder what else there is in here?” Halliday said as he returned to pawing through the contents. “Hey, this looks kind of interestin’—a locked box inside a locked drawer. Love letters, are they?”

  Henley watched helplessly as Halliday smashed the box against the brass bed until the lock was sprung. The box was packed so tightly with banknotes that the money stayed in place when he upended the box.

  “More like keepsakes, I guess,” Halliday grinned. “I guess all these presidents are heroes of yours, huh?”

  He peeled a hundred dollars off the top and tossed it to Henley.

  “Come on now,” he said as he grabbed Henley by the shoulder and pushed him toward the door. “You got a long ways to go, and you better get started.”

  When they reached the yard, Halliday stood back and watched while Henley saddled a horse.

  “Okay,” he said as the man placed his foot in the stirrup. “Off you go now. I purely hate long goodbyes. Just keep one thing in mind—if you come back, I’ll be waitin’ for you.”

  Henley looked down at him bitterly.

  “You might like to think you can call the shots,” he said, “but your kind can never stick it out for long. You have to have somebody do the thinking and give the orders. I’ll be back to prove it to you, if it’s the last thing I do.”

  “It’ll be the last thing you try, mister,” Halliday said flatly. “Now get the hell out of my sight.”

  Henley glanced back at his saloon and caught sight of his wife, standing on the bottom step to watch him go. He gave no sign that he had seen her, but he nudged his horse into a walk that would take him right past the back porch.

  When he reached her, Julie looked up at him and said;

  “You just weren’t good enough, were you? Not even with a gun in your hand. Now we both know how spineless you are.”

  Henley had reined-in the horse, but now he nudged it with his heels and reached out at the same time to grab at Julie’s hair.

  Halliday was there before the woman could open her mouth to scream, and the six-gun was in his hand.