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Man From Boot Hill

Page 17

by Marcus Galloway


  Just then, Joseph walked up to him and handed over a small bundle of money. “That should be enough to cover the supplies.”

  The owner counted up the money he’d been given and stuffed it in his pocket.

  “You’d better find that shotgun of yours,” Nick said. “There’s someone out there you might want to keep an eye on. He’s tied up, but you still should be careful around him.”

  “What should I do with him?”

  “Call the law or feed him to the coyotes, I don’t give a shit which. We just don’t have the time to waste on him.”

  As Joseph dragged the bags he’d packed out the door, the shop’s owner looked around as if he’d been thrown into the middle of a whirlwind. Clenching his fist around Joseph’s money, he shrugged and wandered over to collect his broom and shotgun.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  The gang was divided into two small camps with just over a mile between them. In the main camp, Dutch talked to the men who’d gathered up the fresh recruits and discussed their next move. He’d looked in on the other camp before returning, like a field commander making the rounds among his troops.

  “Lot of new faces,” said one of the veteran gang members.

  Dutch nodded and picked up a stick off the ground. With his other hand, he pulled a hunting knife from his belt and started whittling away the tip. “There should have been more, Bertram. You know that.”

  Bertram nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

  “What happened?”

  “It’s too soon after the raid at Van Meter’s place. Some law’s been poking their noses into it after all that ruckus and—”

  “No law’s been looking into it,” Dutch cut in. “No more than usual, anyhow, and you know it.”

  Bertram shrugged and said, “Then I don’t know why. We got more’n enough to pull the next few jobs, though, so what’s the problem?”

  “The problem is that you’ve been getting lazy. You’ve also been getting sloppy. You took too much time at the Van Meter ranch.”

  The memories brought a smile to Bertram’s face. “That bitch wife of his was mighty fine,” he said in a slow, breathy manner. “I wouldn’t have minded fucking her even after we sliced her up.”

  Dutch’s eyes shifted in their sockets and fixed upon Bertram. When that wasn’t enough to dim the smile on Bertram’s face, Dutch barked, “Shut your damn mouth!”

  “What’s the matter, Dutch? Jealous because we got to have the fun? That herd must be sold off by now. Maybe you can buy yourself some pussy.” Licking his lips, Bertram added, “That younger girl at that ranch, though…she was the kind of sweet meat that you can’t even buy. At least, not without looking real hard for it.”

  Dutch looked down for a second, snapped his eyes back up and then grabbed Bertram underneath his chin. Pinching Bertram’s throat between his fingers, Dutch pulled the other man forward and said, “I put up with a lot of your shit because you get results. You fucked up at that ranch and it may have cost us money.”

  “Them bitches didn’t have any money. I searched ’em real good.”

  “The rancher did, but he was shot before he could tell us the rest of what we needed. Seeing as how we haven’t heard from the man I left behind, the rest of that money is probably gone for good.”

  “We can always go back.”

  Dutch’s grip tightened around Bertram’s throat. His eyes narrowed a bit more and his lips curled back to reveal a set of perfectly straight teeth. “Now you’re just talking like a goddamn fool and I don’t tolerate fools.”

  “You’re gonna have to tolerate me a bit longer,” Bertram said. “I’m the most experienced man you got.”

  “Keep that fucking tone in your voice and the next thing you’ll experience is the grave.”

  The smile on Bertram’s face didn’t fade, but it did lose a good amount of its cockiness. It was a subtle change, which made a world of difference.

  When he saw that shift in Bertram’s manner, Dutch loosened his grip and finally opened his fingers wide enough for the other man to slip free. “Maybe I should stay to oversee these new men,” he said.

  “My boys are doing fine,” replied Bertram.

  “Your boys are like you. They think with their dicks at the wrong times and it may have already gotten some of them killed.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You heard from those men who stayed behind at San Trista?” Dutch asked.

  “No, but it hasn’t been that long.”

  Dutch shrugged. “They should have been back today and they’re not. They’re probably rolling around with some of those whores you found. Either that, or they’re wasting time shepherding them whores back and forth between here and town instead of doing what they get paid to do. Or there could have been some trouble,” Dutch added. “Trouble like whatever J. D. ran into.”

  “They’re a day late,” Bertram reiterated. “I wasn’t even starting to worry about them. Besides, if there’s trouble, they can handle themselves.”

  Dutch stared silently into the distance, his face resembling a portrait. While other men were known for how they collected their scars in various fights, Dutch was known for being in twice the number of fights without getting scarred once. His eyes were cold and calculating; they gazed off a little too long before blinking.

  “Any word from J. D.?” Dutch asked.

  “Not since we heard he was out of jail. Most of us didn’t even know he was in jail.”

  “So where is he now?”

  “I couldn’t tell ya. Probably trying to catch up to the rest of us.”

  Judging by Dutch’s expression, he didn’t care for that explanation one bit. His annoyance only grew when he saw Bertram shifting from one boot to another without a care in the world. “Where’s Bill?”

  “What do you need him for? All he ever does is herd cattle.”

  Dutch answered that with a burning gaze that shoved Bertram a few steps back.

  “Fine, fine,” Bertram said, raising his hands. “I’ll get him. Jesus Christ.”

  After Bertram had been gone a few minutes, another man walked up to Dutch. He was lean and had the look of someone who’d been raised on the floor of a desert. His skin was tough and creased. His hair was dark brown and stringy. When he approached Dutch, he did so with a respectful nod and then waited for the other man to talk.

  “What’s been going on here, Bill?” Dutch asked.

  “Same bullshit you’d expect. Bertram shoots his mouth off day and night when he’s not fucking some whore he brought in from God knows where.”

  “Is he getting his job done?”

  “I suppose. All he needs to do is say ‘howdy’ to a bunch of wet-behind-the-ears gun hands who aren’t much better than he is, so there isn’t much of a way for him to mess up. At least they all kiss his feet on account of the women he brings in.”

  Dutch laughed under his breath and nodded. “You seem bored, so I got a job for you to do.”

  “As long as it involves me getting the fuck out of here, I’m plenty willing.”

  “I don’t know if you heard, but I got a telegram from J. D.”

  “J. D.’s alive?” Bill asked.

  “Yeah, and he was in and out of jail. He was headed to meet up with us, but nobody’s heard from him since.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “We got the telegram almost a week ago. Anyhow, he should have caught up with us a few days ago. I want you to backtrack and see if you can find J. D. He was taking the Silver Gorge trail, so take that all the way back to Ocean if you have to.”

  Bill winced and commented, “That’s an awfully tall order, isn’t it? I mean, there’s a lot of ground to cover and plenty of spaces for one man to get lost. He could have just fallen off his horse and I’d never find him.”

  “I know. We also haven’t heard from George. This was the last day for him to wait for any more men looking to sign on, and there’s been no word.”

  “I know. Bertram didn’t
seem too worried.”

  “Bertram’s got shit for brains,” Dutch said. “That’s why I want you to ride through San Trista on your way out. Make that your first stop and send word to me at the normal spot. You know where I mean?”

  Bill nodded.

  “Don’t wait for a reply. Just head on across to the Silver Gorge and start looking for J. D. Got it?”

  “You think something happened to George and J. D.?”

  “I don’t know, and that’s the part that gets under my skin. You find out for me and do it quick. If something is going wrong, we need to know about it and take care of it before it gets out of hand.”

  “What if the law’s the cause of these problems?”

  “Then you kill any law dog that’s sticking his nose in our business. Things are going too good for that kind of bullshit to trip us up.”

  Bill kept nodding, but had let his eyes wander away from Dutch.

  “You got something else to say?” Dutch asked.

  He started to shake his head, paused and reluctantly said, “There’s been talk about some of the men at that Van Meter place getting killed by some gravedigger from town. What if he’s the one that got to J. D.?”

  Dutch’s eyes burned holes through Bill’s head. His jaw shifted back and forth, slowly grinding his teeth together. “Did you see this gravedigger?”

  “Not up close. I was rounding up that rancher’s herd when the rest of you were shooting up the man that owned that spread. I heard the shots and tried to get there, but was too late to be of much help. Still, someone did shoot the hell out of the men that were going after one of that rancher’s kids.”

  “And it wasn’t the rancher, himself?”

  Bill shook his head.

  “If you hear about someone that killed one of our men,” Dutch said, “gravedigger or not, I want him dead. Kill him in a way that’ll make anyone else think twice about stepping up to anyone who might even be a distant acquaintance of ours. Kill his family, too. There’s no reason that rancher should be the only one to get special treatment.

  “Anything less and we look weak. Men in our line of work start looking weak and we might as well invite the law or other cocky little pricks to try their luck with us.”

  “And what if someone off that ranch is still alive and trying to hunt us down?”

  “Then make him wish he was killed right along with the rest of that family.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Four whistles cut through the air outside of the northernmost camp. The first two whistles were short, followed by one long and one more short. Hearing that combination, the camp’s lookout lowered his rifle and raised his hand in a slow wave. Before too long, he got another wave in return from one of the two riders who were approaching.

  “Looks like our friend with the wet pants was good for his word,” Nick said as he waved toward the camp.

  Joseph rode beside him and let out a short acknowledging grunt.

  Both of the horses were breathing heavily and walking slowly after covering the ground between the camp and San Trista.

  “Hold on a second,” Nick said cautiously.

  Joseph looked along Nick’s line of sight and saw what had caught his attention. A single rider was thundering toward them, kicking up enough dust to make a black cloud in the early-evening shadows.

  “Maybe we should have waited a bit longer before coming here,” Joseph said. “Looks like all of them aren’t settled in just yet.”

  “Don’t get too riled up just yet. Let’s just wait and see what’s on his mind.” His voice was calm, but Nick still placed his hand upon the grip of his gun.

  Joseph didn’t go near any of the guns he’d collected, but sat up tall in his saddle as if he could stare down whoever was approaching no matter how much distance was between them.

  As the rider got closer, Nick raised his hand in a similar fashion as the wave he’d gotten from the camp. Racing by with his back hunched along his horse’s neck, the rider returned the wave and kept on riding north.

  Nick shifted and watched until the only remaining trace of Bill’s horse was the echo of its steps. “All right, looks like we got someone looking out for us,” he said.

  “How many men you think are in that camp?” Joseph asked grimly.

  “I don’t know, which is why we’re not riding in there with guns blazing.”

  Joseph snapped his head around to look at Nick. “What do you mean by that?”

  “I mean, you may not care if you get killed, but I don’t particularly fancy the idea.”

  They kept their horses walking toward the camp at an easy pace. Already, the other man who’d waved to them had turned and walked out of sight.

  “When we get there, just follow my lead,” Nick said. “I’ll do the talking, and if you need to say something, make it short.”

  “I should only speak when spoken to?” Joseph asked sarcastically.

  “That’s exactly right. And don’t draw your gun unless I do it first. Do you understand me?”

  “If things go bad, I’m not about to wait and—”

  “If things go bad, taking one step out of line will only make them worse.”

  Joseph let out a disgruntled breath and worked a kink out of his neck. “Are you going to tell me what you have in mind or should I just wait to be surprised while you talk to me like I’m a child?”

  “So glad you asked,” Nick replied with a grin.

  As Nick and Joseph rode into the camp, the smells of burned coffee and cigarette smoke hung in the air and drifted among the four tents that were set up in a circle around the fire. Five horses were tethered nearby, and three men sat on the ground with their legs stretched out and their backs against a log. One of them got up, dusted himself off and ambled over to Nick. “You fellas are damn lucky if you’re here about them jobs. You’re late, but we wound up staying here a bit longer. You can call me Bryce.”

  Nick put on a friendly smile and shook Bryce’s hand. “We’re not exactly here about the jobs, so does that mean we’re not lucky?”

  “Uh…no. What are you here for?” Bryce asked as he nervously glanced from Nick to Joseph.

  “We’re here to collect the women and bring them back to San Trista,” Nick said.

  “Ain’t no women here. Hasn’t been for a day or two.”

  “Other camp’s having all the fun?”

  Although the man nodded, he didn’t seem at all happy about it.

  “There’s something else you might want to know. Fella by the name of George asked me to pass it along.”

  “Let’s hear it,” Bryce said.

  Ignoring the man’s request, Nick looked over Bryce’s shoulder at the fire. “You still got some of that coffee I smell?”

  Raising his voice to make sure the men behind him could hear, Bryce said, “If you can smell it, I’m surprised you want it.”

  One of the men still seated by the fire flipped a rude gesture over his shoulder and grunted, “Kiss my ass, Bryce.”

  “If I don’t get something in my gut soon, I’m about to fall off this horse,” Nick said as he casually surveyed the camp.

  “Sure. Come on over.”

  Nick climbed down from his saddle and nodded toward Joseph to do the same. As he walked over to the fire, Nick counted up the men he could see as well as what kind of guns they were carrying.

  “Your partner don’t have much to say,” Bryce said as he squatted down next to the fire and used a dented kettle to fill two equally dented cups.

  “I’m not supposed to talk,” Joseph muttered.

  Two of the other men sitting at the fire laughed at that. One of them said, “We keep telling that to Bryce, but he don’t listen.”

  Bryce rolled his eyes and handed Nick and Joseph each a cup of coffee. The brew tasted every bit as bad as it smelled.

  “You want some food?” Bryce asked. “I think there’s still some stew around here somewheres.”

  Nick sipped the coffee and shook his head as the bitter slud
ge went down his throat. “Thanks, but no.”

  Bryce sat down and rubbed his hands together next to the fire. “So what’s the word from Georgie?”

  “There’s been some law dogs poking around, asking about stolen cattle being driven across state lines. You’re supposed to head for an old fort southeast of here.”

  That caught all the men’s attention. They shifted so they could each look at Nick’s face. “What?” Bryce said.

  “George and the other one in town already headed over there. He was in a rush, so he made sure I knew your signal so I could tell you where to meet up with the others.”

  “The law ain’t been a concern for Dutch before,” Bryce said.

  Joseph lowered his coffee cup and quickly added, “There’re Federals with this bunch. A cavalry unit meant to trap rustlers trying to slip out of Texas.”

  “God dammit,” one of the other men said before he was silenced by a quick wave from Bryce.

  “One of Dutch’s men was just here. How come he didn’t tell us about this?”

  “Because he didn’t know about it,” Nick replied. “This is the first place we stopped.”

  Bryce reflexively glanced in the direction that Bill had ridden only a few minutes ago. He then looked south toward the other camp. When he shifted his eyes back to Nick, he was nodding slowly. “What’s this fort you’re talking about?”

  “It’s not far from here, but it should put you well out of that posse’s way.” As he spoke, Nick could see Bryce shifting more and more. His eyes wouldn’t stay still and he hardly looked at Nick directly.

  “And you’re sure them laws don’t know about it?”

  Feeling Bryce’s growing nervousness, Nick kept talking until it seemed Bryce was about to bust. “If they do, you men should be able to handle them. It is a damn fort, after all. Look, we’re just the messengers. We’re going to the other camp and tell them the same thing. We can come through here on our way back to let you know what they said, but don’t expect us to waste too much time. Those whores need to get back.”

 

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