The Alamo Saloon was crowded. Cowboys from different outfits were standing in line at the bar, demanding service. The music of a piano could be heard farther in the background. The instrument seemed to be as old as the professor who was playing it. Tobacco smoke hung thick everywhere.
Jay made his way through the crowd, reached the bar and was served almost at once. But he made no move to pick up the glass of whiskey the bartender had automatically set down in front of him.
“You got a problem, bud?” asked the dispenser of cheer.
“I don’t drink moonshine,” Jay replied. “Give me Kentucky Straight.”
“That stuff don’t come cheap, bud.”
“Neither do I,” said Jay, and passed over a silver coin that the barkeep took quickly.
A moment later Jay was just savoring his first taste of liquor when he heard what sounded like familiar voices somewhere behind him. He turned and saw two men from his outfit, who were sitting at a table. They were in good spirits, and when they spotted him they waved him over.
Bob Rennington was a black cowboy who had been on Tom Calhoun’s payroll now for five years. Tully Jenkins had hired just two months after Bob. They knew how to start a barroom brawl, these two, and that was something Jay dearly did not want that to happen here tonight.
“Pull up a chair, Jay,” said Tully. “The drinks are on us.”
Jay smiled and accepted the invitation.
“This is a heckuva town,” said Bob. “No matter how many times a man passes through, he can always find something new to take his mind off his troubles.”
“Where you been hiding yourself, anyways, Jay?” asked Bob.
“I stayed at the hotel,” said Jay. “Caught up on a little lost sleep.” He glanced around. “Where are Billy and the others?”
Tully chuckled. “Rio’s taken that youngster under his wing. Him, Gus and Dave all headed for the Bull’s Head. ’Fact, me and Bob here just came from there. Didn’t like the way the evening was shaping up for them other fellers.”
“What do you mean?” Jay asked warily.
Bob said, “Last we saw of ’em, they was headed for the opera house.”
Jay could hardly believe his ears. “Billy and Rio?”
Before he could say more, however, he heard a familiar voice coming from the batwings, and turning, he recognized Dave Harmon, who appeared very much relieved when he spotted the foreman.
“Jay!” he called as he shoved toward them through the crowd. “Better come quick, boss. The boys’re down at the opera house, and they’re in trouble!”
Jay stood up. “Damn! What’s going on, Dave?” Did Billy – ”
“It’s not Billy,” Dave replied. “But they’ve called for Marshal Smith, and – ”
“All right,” said Jay, “let’s just get over there!”
Bob and Tully hastily finished their drinks, then leapt up and stumbled in pursuit of Jay and Dave.
Chapter Five
The RB cowboys had sung and cussed their way down to the Opera House, a two-story building which had been built at the far end of Texas Street about eighteen months earlier, on the opposite side to the Bull’s Head Saloon. The folks they passed gave them a wide berth, but none of them had trouble in mind. They just wanted to enjoy themselves.
“Hey boys!” said Gus, who was by now so deep into his cups that he needed Rio’s help to continue walking toward the Opera House. “See this poster over there! Billy, can you see what’s written on it?”
The others grinned because they knew that Gus had problems with ciphering, reading and writing. But back home at the ranch everybody could rely on him. He was a good worker who knew how to handle horses and cows. He made tracking lost cattle through the Brasada look easy.
“Lilly Davies”, muttered Billy. “The poster says tonight’s show is an evening with Lilly Davies.”
“Great!” said Rio. Then, “Who’s Lilly Davies, when she’s to home?”
“A singer, I guess. Says here she’ll be per … per-form-ing songs by Chopin! And poetry by some famous Frenchman.”
“Then let’s get to it,” said Rio. “I can hardly wait to hear that Chopain stuff ... ”
Billy was the first to reach the entrance door. As he pushed inside he found himself in a strange and totally unknown world. The theater was large and expensively decorated. The walls were covered with classic paintings and thick carpets yielded underfoot. An old man in a fine tailored suit immediately marked the new arrivals as trouble and made to step into their path.
“The show for you cowboys was this afternoon, gents,” he said. “Come back again tomorrow at three, if you want to see Miss Lilly perform.”
Rio hauled up sharp. “We want to see Miss Lilly perform, right enough,” he replied. “But we want to see her right now, tonight!”
“That’s not possible,” said the old man. “We got rules here, friend. Only honorable citizens are invited to enjoy these musical highlights after dark – ”
“And we’re not honorable, is that what you’re saying?” challenged Gus.
His gaze was so threatening that the old man suddenly showed fear.
“We drove our herd all the way up from Texas, mister,” said Rio. “We suffered through cloudbursts and dust storms and all manner of other dangers. It was a damn’ hard job, but we did it, and now we’re here we just want to have some fun. You take our money, right, ’cause we came by it honest-like, and we take the opportunity to see this here Miss Lilly. Understood?”
The old man began to sweat. He could see that these waddies weren’t about to take no for an answer.
“Maybe we can make allow you in, just this once,” he hedged. “All I ask is that you leave your w-weapons right here, on this shelf, and show good manners while you’re here. Can you promise that?”
“Hell, yes,” answered Rio.
“Then it’ll b-be a dollar a head for entrance.”
The cowboys searched their pockets, came up with the required fee and handed it over. Then they shucked their iron and left their gunbelts coiled on the shelf the old man had indicated.
“Now you just let us pass, mister,” said Rio. “You got what you wanted.”
“Sure … s-sure,” said the old timer. “Enjoy the evening, boys – peaceably, if you can.”
He smiled politely and waved them through.
Rio pushed through a door in the facing wall, which led into a large auditorium. The stage stood down at the far end, with row after row of upholstered seats occupying the space in between.
Nearly all the seats were taken, and as the cowboys entered the auditorium they studied the rest of the audience critically. They were very astonished to see some plain, hard working Texas cowboys already there, albeit somewhat more sober than they were.
Rio Shayne was the first who noted the deadly silence among the visitors. He looked at Billy, hoping that he could help him.
“Where should we take our seats, Billy?” he asked.
The youngest Calhoun chose some places about midway down the aisle and the cowboys followed him. Gus stumbled over his own feet on the way to the seats and almost landed in the lap of an elderly woman, who quickly shoved him off.
“Such sinful behavior,” said the lady, turning red.
“Your humble servant, ma’am,” answered Gus, attempting a formal bow before he found his seat.
A few seconds later all the cowboys had taken their seats.
“Billy,” asked Gus in a stage-whisper. “When does the singing start?”
“Soon, I guess.”
“Hats off!” someone called from behind them.
Rio turned around. He saw a bald, muscular man in a fine black suit whose expression showed disgust.
“What’s that you say, mister?” Rio asked belligerently.
“I said take your hats off, you dumb idiots!” answered the man. “The people behind you can’t see the stage!”
“Is that so?” Rio’s voice was cold and clear. “Well, isn’t that a shame?
”
“Listen, you – take off your hats and show a little respect for the auditorium! And before you try to smart-mouth me again, I’ll have you know I am Judge Cyrus Kilgore, and I expect you men to behave yourselves or leave at once!”
“All right, Judge,” said Billy, attempting to calm things down. “We’ll do just like you said.”
But Rio had other ideas. “No we won’t,” he replied. “We already had to leave our guns back at the entrance. And these fools still think we might be dangerous. Well, anyone who doesn’t cotton to me or my pals here, just you step up and say why. Then we’ll – ”
But just then the curtain opened and a man in a dark frock coat appeared on stage. At once the auditorium fell silent.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” announced the man on the stage, “it is a great honor for Abilene and its citizens – and of course for me, too – to introduce an artist who had become famous throughout the world. Now she has kindly graced Abilene with her presence, and I envy you, for you are about to see and hear one of the truly great chanteuses the world has ever produced … Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Miss Lilly Davies, all the way from New York City!”
While the audience was applauding, the star of the night strode onto the stage. She looked absolutely stunning in her white satin dress. It was doubtful that any man there was unaware of her exceptional beauty. The crimson curtain behind her pulled back to show a gray-haired musician in an evening suit, ready to accompany her on an upright piano.
“That girl is cute,” Gus murmured appreciatively.
Although he made no reply, Billy certainly agreed. As far as he was concerned, everything about her, the way she walked and held herself, her height, her build, the way she styled her lustrous brown hair, was perfect. Billy was a greenhorn around the fairer sex, but he knew that this woman stirred him in a way few others could ever hope to. Almost at once, however, he realized that she had affected just about everyone else in the auditorium in the same way.
Seconds later the man behind the piano began to play. It was something melancholic, but it was the perfect overture for the woman in white. When Lilly Davies began to sing, her sweet contralto filled the room. The audience began to enjoy the performance, but Rio and the others could only scowl.
“Hell,” Rio said to Billy, “this ain’t music. Sounds more like the howl of a lovesick coyote.”
This drew a chorus of disapproving tuts and shushes from the rest of the audience. But when Rio wanted to express an opinion, no one could stop him.
Gus Gentry felt the same way. He and Rio stood up, and both men raised their hands.
“Hey, lady, give us a break, will you?”
Lilly Davies stopped singing. The pianist went on for a few bars until he realized she had fallen silent.
“Girl,” called Gus, “we want to hear Home on the range!”
“Yeah,” added Rio. “That’s a song everybody loves. All that other caterwaulin’s making my ears bleed!”
Other members of the audience stood up and tried to show their sympathy for Lilly Davies. Several of them called for the RB outfit to leave the rest of them in peace. When one townsman grabbed Rio and tried to throw him out, Rio hit him so hard that he stumbled and fell.
“Let’s get rid of these dammed cowpunchers!” yelled an angry opera lover.
Next minute, the man rolled up his sleeves and threw himself at Rio.
Jay, Dave Harmon, Tully and Bob had just passed the Alamo Saloon when they heard the commotion from the other side of the street.
It came directly from the Opera House.
At the same moment Jay spotted Marshal Smith striding toward the building. He carried a Parker shotgun with him and if the expression on his face was anything to go by, he looked as if he would be happy to use it at the slightest provocation.
Smith saw the Texans, who were now waiting for him at the opera house’s entrance. He stopped and, addressing Jay, said, “I been told your men’ve started a fight, Durango. I told you I don’t accept that kind of trouble in this town.”
He raised the Parker shotgun. The two barrels had been cut short, making it even more deadly than it already was. When Smith entered the opera house he recognized the old timer who ran the place, who showed relief at sight of him.
“Marshal Smith!” the fellow stuttered. “Please ... please, come quick! Those Texans are .... they’ve started a fight in the auditorium!”
Jay suppressed a curse. Ordinarily, the RB hands were peaceable. But right now things were anything but ordinary. They were at trail’s-end, they had money in their pockets and fire in their loins.
The old man opened the door which led to the auditorium. Smith, Jay and the other cowboys went through into what looked pretty close to a reenactment of the Battle of Bunker Hill.
Rio was fighting like a devil. He had planted himself like a mighty oak and was knocking down everyone who got within range of his fists. On the stage behind him, Lilly Davies was screaming for someone to come and rescue her from such barbarism. The pianist had long-since taken cover behind his piano.
Gus was also giving a good account of himself, while other members of the audience pressed themselves against the walls and as far out of the firing line as it was possible to get.
One of the chairs sailed through the air. The fighting Texans yelled like rebels and continued their own personal riot. Many of the paintings had been torn from the walls and used as makeshift weapons, and chairs had been spilled everywhere.
Smith cocked his shotgun, aimed at the ceiling and pulled the trigger. The ear-shattering blast had the desired effect, finally interrupting the fight.
“Stop right now!” yelled Smith as he reloaded his smoking weapon. “Else the next shot’ll go right into the pack of you!”
Judge Kilgore raised himself from the floor. His face was pale, and his upper lip was bleeding, but it was clear that he’d given as good as he’d got.
“Arrest these men, marshal!” he demanded. “They’ve caused a riot!”
Only now did the battling cowboys recognize Jay and the others from the RB outfit. Rio Shayne opened his mouth, intending to explain what had happened, but when the marshal directed his gun in Rio’s direction, Rio stopped at once. Jay saw that Billy was sprawled unconscious on the floor.
“That boy over there is the rancher’s son, marshal,” he told Smith. “I’d just to make sure he’s not been hurt too bad.”
Smith made no immediate reply. Then he nodded once.
At a sign from Jay, Tully stumbled through the room and gave Billy a cursory examination. After a moment he called, “Looks like someone smashed a chair over his noggin, Jay. He’s hurt – not serious, but he needs to be taken care of. As soon as possible.”
“Take him back to the hotel, boys,” said Jay. Then he addressed the marshal. “You have my word that Billy will accept responsibility for anything that’s happened here. Same with the others. I’ll send Billy down to your office as soon as he’s been taken care of him.”
“Okay, Durango,” nodded Smith. “But these other jaspers need to learn a lesson they won’t forget in a hurry, so I’m taking them into custody. They’ll stay in my cells till I figure they’ve served their time!”
Rio gasped, “Aw, come on now, marshal! Let me tell you how it got started … ”
“You’ll have enough time for that once I’ve got you locked behind bars,” returned Smith. “For now, you’re under arrest for disturbance of the peace and damage to property. Now go on ahead of me, the pack of you, and head on down toward the jail. I’ll be right behind you, and so will this here shotgun! As for you, Durango – go find a doctor for your boss’s boy. Once he’s been fixed up, you send him straight down to me, or there’ll be ructions. Judge Kilgore, I’ll be needing you as a witness!”
The RB cowboys looked at Jay. The foreman said, “You heard the marshal. Do like he says and don’t a-one of you complain about it! Understood?”
Rio groaned helplessly. “Okay, boys” he said i
n defeat. “Let’s do what the marshal said.”
A few minutes later the crowd outside could watched a miraculous sight. A bunch of wild Texas cowboys was forced to go to jail by one single man. The cowboys had had their fun, and now had to accept the consequences. Even Rio had to admit that there was nothing unfair about that.
Chapter Six
Billy awoke very slowly, and when he opened his eyes, he saw Jay Durango standing at the foot of the bed.
“He’s awake, boys ... ”
Billy tried to raise his head, but a sudden, sharp pain made him think again. Then his sight cleared again and he recognized Tully, Bob and Dave Harmon, standing just behind the foreman.
At once Billy was gripped by panic. “What … what happened, Jay? How long have I been out?”
“Not too long,” answered Jay. “Now – I’ll give you two minutes to tell me everything that happened down at the opera house.”
Now the memories came back. He told Jay everything that had happened – or almost everything.
“So who started the trouble in the first place, boy?” asked Jay.
Billy shook his head, and winced at the motion. “I … I disremember.”
“Disremember, hell! Come on – I want a name.”
Billy looked up at him. “No one started it,” he hedged. “It just … happened.”
“It was Rio Shayne, I’ll bet,” said Jay.
Billy tried his best to look puzzled. “Guess it could have been any one of us … ”
Jay turned away from him, pleased that the boy hadn’t told tales out of school but determined not to show it. “And what am I supposed to tell your pa, when we get back to the ranch? That the first thing his son did was get into a brawl and wreck one of the few jewels in Abilene’s crown?”
Billy’s blood ran cold at the thought. He knew that Jay had promised to keep an eye on him. And that meant he’d let Jay down, as well as his pa. Tom Calhoun wouldn’t take this incident lightly, and would make Billy’s life hell until he figured the youngster had learned his lesson.
“Any reason pa needs to know, Jay?” he asked miserably.
Rio Concho 1 Page 3