Jailbreak

by Giles Tippette

  I sent it and then I walked back to the hotel hoping. She’d have it within the half hour. If she understood and was willing to forgive me I’d have an answer within two or three hours. Of course I knew she’d have to sit down and think about it and discuss it with her mother. I also knew all about those guests, some of whom would have come a hundred miles for the wedding. I reckoned she was angry and I didn’t blame her. And I reckoned she was embarrassed in the bargain. June 9 at four o’clock had come and gone and there’d been no bridegroom there. I reckoned she was mad and angry and embarrassed and on the warpath for my scalp.

  The steaks came up not long after I got back to the room. There was no dining table but I reckoned by then the desk clerk had figured out who we were and had one sent along. He also sent two waiters to stand behind us and take our orders like we was real gentry. Hays just ate it up like it was pie, but I kept warning him not to get used to such treatment.

  Everybody had bathed and put on fresh clothes, some store-bought new, some clean out of their saddlebags. Even Norris had somehow managed to find himself a seersucker suit from some shop in town. It did, however, not quite fit him after the poor feeding he’d got in the Mexican jail and then on our run across the desert. But I was in no mood to josh with him. As far as I was concerned he might have lost me Nora, and if that was the case, he was in more trouble than he’d ever been in in his life.

  Ben took a big drink of iced water and said, with some satisfaction, “I was beginning to believe that this was something I’d just dreamed up. I never thought of ever having it again.”

  I said, “Little brother, them was some fine shots you made at those telegraph lines. I don’t know anybody else could have done it.”

  He said, “Oh, yeah? Why don’t you tell that to Buttercup when we get home. And speaking of that, when are we going home?”

  I looked directly at Norris. I said, “Why, I reckon when we’ve got the business tended to we came down here to get tended to.”

  Norris just looked down at his plate and didn’t say anything.

  But, naturally, Ray Hays had to pop off. He said, sounding just as innocent as you please, “But hell, boss, I thought the main part of our bid’ness was to get Norris out of jail. Hell, we done done that.”

  I was looking at Norris, who still wouldn’t look back at me, but I said, “Shut up, Ray.”

  It was kind of a dreary supper, nobody saying much. This wasn’t one of them kind of situations where anybody come out the winner. The initial effort had just been one of trying to hold on to something that already belonged to us. And we’d spent a lot of time and money doing that and I couldn’t say for sure, even at that point, that I had it in my back pocket.

  So there was nobody exactly suggesting we go out dancing. Besides, I had Nora on my mind. I kept waiting for a knock on the door with an answer to my telegram but it didn’t seem like it was ever going to happen.

  Then Hays decided he would lighten the mood by telling us of one of his boyhood experiences. He done that from time to time whether we wanted him to or not. He started off by saying, “I ever tell y’all about my days on my daddy’s ranch up in the panhandle? One we couldn’t run but about one head of cattle to the hundred acre the land was so poor?”

  Ben said, sourly, “Yeah, you told us.”

  We were all still pretty dried-up and disgusted from that trip across the desert.

  But you couldn’t head Hays off once he felt a story coming on. He said, “Y’all knowed that if any of us boys ever let the sun come up and find us not working, ol’ Dad would take a strop to our backs.”

  Ben said, “Goddammit, Hays, we know. You’ve told us about twenty different versions of how hard you had it.”

  Hays would not be stopped. “But did I ever tell you that I was so used to goin’ to work before the sun got up that the first time I tried to saddle a horse in the daylight I couldn’t do it. I had to shut my eyes.”

  Ben said, “Oh, what a liar. ”

  Hays kept insisting. He said, “Truth be told, it’s a fact. I was goin’ to my uncle Art’s funeral and I was seventeen years old at the time and I’d never saddled a horse where I could see, you know, not after the sun got up.”

  Ben said, “Hays, you keep this up I’m going to throw you out that window over yonder.”

  I said, with a little more edge in my voice than I meant, “You both shut up. I got to figure out about tomorrow.”

  Lew said, “What’s tomorrow?”

  “Job of work,” I said.

  I was moody and blue about Nora, but I was also determined to finish the job that had brought me to the border in the first place. I said, making damn sure Norris could hear me, “We got to run them squatters off that big, important five thousand acres that all this bullshit was about.”

  Well, that fetched him. He got his chin up and said, “You’ve got the paper now, the title you flaunted in my face. I assume that you’ll do something lawful for a change. All you have to do is take it to the sheriff. After that it’s his affair.”

  I said, as sarcastically as I could, “Well, by God, now he knows all about how to handle this business. Reckon why that couldn’t have been so ten days ago. Maybe you’re a slow learner, huh Norris?”

  He started getting red in the face, but Ben said, “C’mon Justa, we all know how you feel, but that ain’t going to do a damn bit of good.”

  Norris suddenly got up without a word, not even bothering to pick up his hat, and walked out of the room. Ben said, “See what I mean? I know he’s got plenty coming and he was in the wrong, but he ain’t exactly had no easy time of it. Justa, he’s family. You got to give him a little breathing room. You don’t know you’ve lost Nora yet. Wait until we get home.”

  I didn’t bother to even answer him. I just finished my steak, had a drink of whiskey and went down to the lobby to inquire at the desk if a telegram had come for me. The now oh-so-eager Mr. Jenkins said it hadn’t come but as soon as it did they’d get it to me if they had to look all over town.

  Well, I still had hope. Only a couple of hours had passed since she would have gotten mine and I knew there would have to be a certain amount of delay while she decided how much punishment I ought to have.

  It was just coming dark as I walked out on the street and set out to find a little diversion. I walked along the boardwalk. The town was full of folks, most of them, naturally, being of Spanish extraction. Now and again I got jostled or bumped and I found my temper rising unreasonably. I am normally a pretty steady fellow, but I felt raw and on edge and it was all I could do to keep from turning around and knocking hell out of some poor little man who’d accidentally brushed up against me.

  I walked along, thinking. Hell, if I’d of had any sense I’d of got a train out that very night and hied it back to Blessing and laid siege to Nora. But something told me it was too soon, the wound was too fresh. Better to give it some time. Besides, I was determined to personally see this land business through if for no other reason than to embarrass Norris.

  But I also had the sneaking suspicion that the house wasn’t even finished. That would be all it would take—me to show up late and the house not to be finished. I was halfway tempted to wire Harley for a report, but by the time he got my telegram and got me an answer back I’d be halfway to Blessing.

  That was assuming matters went the way they was supposed to the next day—a fact I couldn’t be all that sure of.

  I walked about three blocks from the hotel and took notice of a pretty respectable-looking saloon. Gazing through the window, I could see a couple of poker games going on and it come across my mind that a game of cards might be a good way to take my thoughts off my troubles. Consequently I went on through the swinging doors. The place was doing a pretty brisk trade, but then I reckoned all the saloons in Laredo never went wanting for clientele. You take a place like Laredo, a border town, and you are going to have more than your average count of bandits and desperados and just general trash. The border is a good place t
o go if you’ve got to get away from the authorities on one side or the other. Ain’t nothing but a shallow river standing in your way. So you’ll draw more folks that prefer whiskey to Sunday-school books.

  Of course it didn’t bother me. I had enough time in Laredo over the years that I could tell what some yahoo was going to do even before he thought of it.

  Once inside I took a look at the two poker tables and saw they were full. I went over to the bar and ordered a beer and a shot of whiskey to give it time for a seat to come open. One of the tables appeared to be playing pretty big stakes so I figured it wouldn’t be long before one of the gentlemen players decided it was time he ought to be home, that his wife was waiting supper on him.

  But I just bellied up to the bar and stared at my reflection in the mirror. Lord, I was a sight. I looked like old saddle leather from the beating my skin had taken crossing that desert. But it didn’t go with my clothes and my hat, which were shiny new. About the only two things I still carried were my belt and my boots, them and my revolver and holster. As near as I could tell I looked like I’d aged about ten years.

  There was an ol’ boy standing next to me at the bar. He was bigger than I was but he was soft looking. He was dressed like somebody’s idea of what either a big-shot banker who loaned money on cattle or a successful rancher figured they ought to look like. I could see him watching me in the mirror that ran nearly the full distance of the bar. After a minute he said, “You must like what you see. You been starin’ at it long enough.”

  I just gave him a look. I knew the mood I was in and it didn’t involve talking to strangers.

  But he wouldn’t be satisfied. He kind of flicked his hand over at the sleeve of my shirt and said, “Just make a payday, cowboy?”

  I could tell he’d had about one too many, but that was fixing to become his problem. I said, “Keep your hands to yourself, fellow.”

  He said, “Scared I’ll mess up them nice new clothes? Say, what does somebody like you mean by coming in here drinking with the quality? You better get yourself down to one of the cantinas down along the river.”

  Right then I turned and stared at him. I said, “Fellow, you are either drunk or crazy. Either way, you open your mouth to me again and you might not open it again for a long time.”

  I knew he was going to take a swing at me. But he was so slow and he drew back so far that I didn’t think he was ever going to get the punch off. Before it could get halfway to me I hit him a vicious right hand in his soft gut. He went “Ooof!” and wanted to double over, but I wouldn’t let him. Just as he started to bend over I hit him with a driving left hook that straightened him up and dropped him like a limp sack of flour.

  But it hadn’t been him I’d been concerned about. As he’d gone down I’d seen the man to his right start to react. Rich bullies never go into bars and start fights unless they got somebody behind them that can get them out of the scrapes they get themselves into. So, as the fat-belly dropped, I was already reaching for my revolver. I could see the man behind the fat-belly doing the same thing. I drew, clipping the man under the chin with my heavy revolver as I did. It staggered him. With my hand up in the air I just completed the play by bringing the barrel of my revolver crashing down on his head. He dropped like he’d been poleaxed.

  The bar had gone quiet. I cocked my revolver and was about to turn to face any new threat when I suddenly felt a pair of strong arms pinning my arms to my side. For an instant I struggled and then I heard Lew’s voice in my ear. He said, “Justa, let’s get out of here. I don’t like the odds. Just walk backwards, following me. Keep that revolver playing over the house.”

  We got to the door. The place was quiet, watching us. On the floor, beside the bar, the fat man was starting to move around, groaning and feeling his belly. Lew let go of me and I saw he also had his revolver drawn. He said, “I’d stay indoors if I was y’all. We didn’t start this fight and ain’t nobody hurt. At least not yet.”

  Then we were through the door and out onto the street. Didn’t take us but a minute to get lost in the crowds moving up and down the sidewalk. We holstered our weapons and strolled toward the river. After about six blocks we come to a little plaza. We could see the lights from the riverfront stores and saloons reflecting off the water. We found a little stone-and-concrete bench and sat down. We didn’t say anything and, after a moment, we both lit up cigarillos. We smoked in silence, watching the white smoke float up toward the dark sky. Finally Lew said, “She mean that much to you?”

  I studied the glowing end of my cigarillo and said, “I reckon. She must or I wouldn’t be feeling this way. What the hell were you doing there?”

  “Oh, I seen the way you was looking. I figured you’d go looking for a fight. Thought I’d be there.”

  “I wasn’t looking for no fight. They started it.”

  He gave a little laugh. “Who you joshing, Justa? You get that look on your face and walk into a saloon you know damn good and well somebody is going to challenge you. You don’t reckon I know you that well by now?”

  I didn’t say anything. Wasn’t much I could say. I knew what he was talking about was the truth. If the fat man hadn’t started in on me I’d of found a way to get somebody else to cooperate in getting their head knocked off.

  Lew said, “Well? What about Nora?”

  I shook my head. I said, “I don’t know. I don’t reckon I’ll know for some little time.”

  Lew cut his hand through the air. “Then what in the hell did you risk it for? You could have sent somebody down to get Norris out of jail. Or let him set there and cool his heels for the while. It wouldn’t have killed him. Might have taught him a little lesson.”

  I looked into the distance. “Lew, some years back I took a job from Dad, from Howard. I don’t know no other way than to do it. I reckon that’s been the biggest problem between me and Nora, me and that family business. Seems like sometimes she understands better than others. I thought I could make it back in time. Get my family business done and get back for the wedding.”

  Lew said, softly, “I reckon what you don’t understand is that she figures you’re her family now. That you owe her as much as yore brothers or yore daddy or that ranch. Women think that way, you know.”

  I looked over at him and laughed, just a little. “When did you get to be such an expert on women? I ain’t seen you being led to the altar no time lately.”

  He had the good grace to smile. He said, “Well, maybe I ain’t no sage at firsthand, but I’m hell on givin’ advice to other men.”

  I got up. “Let’s wander on back.”

  “We ain’t stopping in no more saloons?”

  “No,” I said.

  As we walked he said, “What now?”

  I shrugged in the dark. “Reckon I’ll go see the local sheriff and get that business tended to about the squatters. Then I reckon we’ll all head back. Hell, you been gone too long from your duties as high sheriff as it is.”

  “Want me to go with you?”

  I shook my head. “Naw, ought to be nothing to it. I got the Spanish land grant free and clear. Ought to just be a formality. You and the rest go to getting ready to pull out. Check on trains and so on.”

  There was no telegram waiting for me back at the hotel. I looked at Lew. He didn’t say anything. On the way up the stairs I said, “Reckon I’ll have to plead my case in person.”

  “More than likely,” he said. “More than likely.”

  13

  I took Ben with me the next morning to see the sheriff. I done it for no particular reason except Norris gave me a kind of self-satisfied look when I announced where I was going. I guessed by that he meant that since he’d had trouble with the sheriff, so I would also. I didn’t much think so.

  Ben and I walked over from the hotel and mounted the boardwalk in front of the sheriff’s office and county jail. The notice painted on the big plate-glass window announced that somebody named R. E. “Buck” Gadley was the sheriff. But I didn’t give a damn w
hat his name was, I just wanted him to do his job. Ben and I clanked across the boardwalk and opened the door. There was a middle-aged man with a droopy mustache hanging around his upper lip and a lined, bewhiskered face that appeared to be running about two days behind his razor sitting behind a small desk in the middle of the room. He had his boots on top of the desk and he was chewing tobacco. He seemed to time his chews with our steps as we crossed the room. Just as we got up to his desk he leaned over and spit on the floor. I could see by the condition of the wooden floor it wasn’t the first time he’d practiced that habit. Looking left I could see a younger man sitting on a little bench running a rag over a shotgun that was already plenty shiny. I said, “Sheriff Gadley?”

  He looked up, about as disinterested as if I was a fly. He said, “Yeah?”

  I said, “My name is Justa Williams. I’m from up in Matagorda County. On the coast. I got some squatters, some trespassers, nesting on my land. I need them run off.”

  He spit again and then regarded me for a long time. Finally he said, “Whar’s this ’yere land of yor’n?”

  “On the Rio Grande. About three miles east of here. It’s five thousand acres. My brother has been down to see you about it once before, but you said we didn’t have a clear title. Said there was some trouble about the Spanish land grant.”

  “So?” he said.

  I took the paper out of my pocket and held it out. I said, “So, I got that straightened out. Can’t be any question about clear title now. I want those trespassers run off my family’s land.”

  He looked at me a long time, chewing his cud of tobacco slowly. “What’d you say yore name was?”

  “Williams,” I told him. “Justa Williams. My brother’s name is Norris Williams. He’s the man came in to see you a little over a week ago. I’ve had to go down to Monterrey to get this business cleared up.”

  Moving his head like it hurt his neck, he looked over at the young man on the bench. He said, “Soup, was thet thet smart aleck in that funny suit come in here throwin’ his weight ’round? Actin’ like he was some big shot?”