Terror of the Mountain Man

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Terror of the Mountain Man Page 7

by William W. Johnstone


  “They won’t be coming back,” Old Mo said.

  After the shooting died down he had come up from the wagons, and was now standing over one of the bodies, looking down at it.

  “How do you know?”

  “This here is Eddie Tebo. He’s the one got ’em all together in the first place, and they ain’t likely to come back without ’im.”

  The men dragged the three bodies back to the site of the campfire, then they sat around the fire, talking in excited tones, about what had just happened.

  “Fred, Vernon, you was both in the army,” Don Pratt said. “Was what we just done like a real battle?”

  “Only battles me ’n’ Vernon was ever in was with Injuns,” Fred said. “And was most always in the daytime.”

  The conversation continued, with the conspicuous absence of Old Mo. Old Mo was out in the dark, looking down at the three bodies.

  “Smoke, I’m worried about Mr. Morris,” Sally said.

  “Why?”

  “He said he had been put in a position where he had to betray one friend or another, and no matter how it wound up, he could only lose. What was he talking about?”

  “He and Tebo were friends, once,” Smoke said. “I think Mo knew that by telling me about the plan to steal the horses, it could well mean Tebo was going to be killed. But he told me anyway.”

  “Oh, then I can see what was bothering him.”

  Old Mo came back out of the darkness, then started toward the hoodlum wagon.

  “Mr. Morris, are you all right?” Sally called after him.

  Old Mo stopped, and looked back toward Smoke and Sally. He nodded his head. “Yes, ma’am, I’m all right,” he said. “It was a hard thing for me to do. But I done what was right, an’ that’s all that matters.”

  “You did indeed do the right thing,” Smoke said.

  Old Mo nodded, then climbed into the hoodlum wagon to go to bed.

  Chapter Eight

  The next morning Old Mo drove the hoodlum wagon into town with the three bodies thrown in the back. Smoke, Sally, Pearlie, and Cal rode into town with him. Smoke went in so he could explain the incident to the sheriff, but also just so Sally could have a look around town. They had passed through several towns since leaving Big Rock, but this was the first time Sally had left the herd since they’d gotten under way several days earlier.

  There was no canvas over the wagon so the three bodies were clearly visible, and that attracted the attention of several of the townspeople. By the time Old Mo stopped in front of the sheriff’s office, word had already reached him that a wagon carrying three bodies was coming into town.

  The sheriff bit off a chew of tobacco as Pearlie and Cal took the bodies from the back of the wagon and laid them out on the ground, faceup.

  “Did you just find ’em, or did you kill ’em?” the sheriff asked.

  “We killed them,” Smoke said.

  “I expect you had a good reason, or you wouldn’ta brought ’em in here.”

  “I’m taking a herd of horses down to Texas. These men, and some others, tried to steal them.”

  “Damn,” someone said, pointing to the first body. “That’s Arnie Tate. I thought he was in prison.”

  “That’s Jake Loomis,” another said, pointing out the second body. “It don’t surprise me none to see him wind up like this.”

  “Anybody know this man?” the sheriff asked, pointing to the third body.

  “That would be Edgar Tebo,” Old Mo said.

  “Edgar Tebo? Are you sure? The reason I ask is, I just got paper on Tebo. He robbed a store up in Salcedo, kilt the storekeep and his wife.”

  “How do you know Tebo was the one who done it?” Old Mo asked.

  “They was a handyman in the back of the store and he seen the whole thing,” the sheriff said. “’Course, we got no way of provin’ that this here feller is Tebo, ’ceptin’ your word on it.”

  “Does the paper say that Tebo is missin’ his big toe on his right foot?” Old Mo asked.

  “I don’t know, let me check.”

  The sheriff stepped back into his office for a moment and as he did so, Old Mo pulled the boot off Tebo’s right foot. Tebo wasn’t wearing a sock, and there were a few sounds of surprise when the people who had been drawn to the macabre scene saw that the outlaw was indeed missing his big toe.

  “Yeah,” the sheriff said, coming back out. “It does say that.”

  “How much is the reward?” Smoke asked.

  “One thousand dollars.”

  Smoke smiled at Old Mo. “Looks like you’re a thousand dollars richer.”

  Old Mo shook his head. “I wasn’t even up there shootin’ at ’em, if you remember. I was back with the wagons.”

  “But you’re the one that warned us about him, and you’re the one that identified him.”

  “Tell you what. Divide it up among all the men, ’n’ I’ll just take my share,” Old Mo said. Then he smiled. “But, if you’ll lend me five dollars till I get my share, I’ll be able to have me a fine time in town tonight.”

  Smoke laughed. “You’ve got a deal.”

  “What’s your name?” the sheriff asked.

  “This is Smoke Jensen,” Pearlie said, answering the sheriff’s question.

  “Smoke Jensen?” somebody in the crowd said. “Lord Almighty, what’s someone like Smoke Jensen doin’ in Liberty?”

  “You heard ’im. He’s takin’ some horses down to Texas.”

  “I’ve heard of you,” the sheriff said, suspiciously.

  “Yes, a lot of people have,” Smoke said. “I’d just as soon people not have heard of me, but it’s too late to put the horse back in the barn now.”

  “Well, Mr. Jensen, I’ll say this. I ain’t never heard nothin’ bad about you. I’ll have the money for you tomorrow,” the sheriff said, “soon as I get word back from the capital.”

  “Thank you,” Smoke said. “Do you need me to sign anything about this?” He took in the bodies with a sweep of his hand.

  “No, seems pretty open-and-shut to me,” the sheriff said. “Will you be staying in town tonight?”

  “Yes, the herd is well guarded, so we will spend the night in town.”

  “Hope you enjoy it.”

  “I’m sure we will, thanks.”

  After taking care of the horses and wagon, Smoke and Sally took a stroll around town just to see what the town was like. Sally stepped into a dress store, not that she wanted to buy a dress, which certainly wasn’t appropriate for now, but just to have a look around. Smoke stood at the window just looking out over the street while Sally was talking to the clerk.

  For such a small town it seemed to be quite busy with people walking back and forth on the boardwalks, and with wagons and buckboards moving up and down the street. A sign was stretched across the street advertising an upcoming election.

  Smoke turned toward Sally. “Are you going to be much longer?”

  “What is your hurry, Smoke? We don’t have anything else to do in this town.”

  “I thought we could get a good supper, then find a hotel room, and sleep comfortably tonight.”

  “All right, I was just looking anyway.” Then to the clerk, Sally added, “You have some very beautiful things here. Thank you very much for letting me look around.”

  As it turned out there was quite a nice dining room in the hotel, and Smoke and Sally enjoyed a good dinner. It was particularly enjoyable to Sally because it was one that she didn’t have to cook over an open fire.

  “What do you think Mr. Morris meant by having a fine time in town tonight?” Sally asked Smoke later, after supper, when they were in their hotel room.

  “What do you think he meant?”

  “I don’t know, that’s why I asked you. I mean he’s too old for . . . that, isn’t he?”

  “What do you mean by that?” Smoke asked.

  “Oh, you!” Sally said with an embarrassed laugh. She hit him on the shoulder. “Never mind.”

  “On the other hand,�
�� Smoke added, reaching for her with a big smile. “I’m not too old.”

  “Oh, my,” Sally said. “I guess you really aren’t.”

  “I’ll let you know when I am too old,” Smoke said. “But I don’t think that will be for quite a while yet.”

  Old Mo’s idea of a fine time started with supper at a place called The Big O. With five dollars in his pocket, he was able to examine the menu for something that he actually wanted to eat, as opposed to looking at it with an eye as to what everything cost. He saw that the restaurant featured chicken and dumplings, and seeing that, it brought back memories from a long time ago. Old Mo had been born and raised in Missouri, and his mother had made chicken and dumplings quite frequently. His wife, when learning how much Old Mo enjoyed the dish, learned to fix them as well.

  For a long time after that awful winter, Old Mo would not eat chicken and dumplings because it brought back the unpleasant memories of having lost his wife and child in the cold and snow of what was now being called Donner Pass. Now he would have chicken and dumplings anytime the opportunity presented itself.

  As he waited for his meal to be served he recalled the first time his wife had ever tried to make the meal.

  “All, Arnie, I have ruined them all. They’re all so soggy, and joined together, in big clumps. I am so sorry.”

  Old Mo chuckled quietly as he recalled that first meal. It had been very hard to eat her dumplings that day, but he would give anything in world if he had the opportunity to eat them again.

  After supper he went down to the Freedom Saloon where he saw Cal and Pearlie sitting at a table.

  He started to join them at the table, but saw three girls standing at the other end of the bar. One had red hair, one was a blonde, and one was a brunette. The color of their hair didn’t seem natural, but he was sure they had worked it out among themselves to appeal to every predilection. He motioned to them.

  “Ladies, I got me a big thirst, and I don’t like to drink alone. I want you to join me ’n’ my friends at the table.”

  “Which one of us do you want, honey?” the blonde asked.

  “Why, I want all three of you,” he said.

  The redhead laughed. “Woo wee, honey, you must be some kind of man if you want all three of us.”

  Old Mo chuckled. “I ain’t goin’ to bed you, darlin’s. I’m just goin’ to drink with you.”

  Old Mo and the three girls walked over to Pearlie and Cal’s table.

  “You don’t mind if me ’n’ my lady friends here join you two boys, do you?” Old Mo asked.

  “Why, we don’t mind at all,” Pearlie replied with a broad smile. “Let me get a couple of extra chairs for our guests.”

  “Oh, my!” the brunette said. “Why, this is just like a party.”

  “You two take your pick among them two. This gentleman is mine,” the redhead said, grabbing Old Mo’s upper arm with both hands.

  “Where you been?” Pearlie asked, as Old Mo and the three girls sat down.

  “I got me some supper,” Old Mo said.

  “We had supper here. Beans, bacon, and a couple of biscuits,” Cal said. “It wasn’t as good as what Miz Sally cooks, but it was pretty good.”

  “I had chicken ’n’ dumplings and it was fine.” Old Mo said. “Now I want a couple of drinks just to round the night out.”

  “Honey, is that really how you want to round the night out?” the redhead asked.

  Old Mo laughed. “Honey, I’m just real flattered at your confidence in me, but I’m of an age where I know my limitation,” Old Mo said.

  On the other side of the room a man sat glaring at the table where Old Mo and the others were sitting. He had no idea who they might be but he knew they were not local people, so as far as he was concerned, they had no business taking up time with the girls. He was especially irritated that the redhead was with them. Long ago, he had picked Emerald out as his personal favorite.

  “Look at Emerald over there,” he said to the two men who were at the table with him.

  “What about her?” one of the others asked

  “What do you mean, what about her? Look at who Emerald is sittin’ with. Hell, he’s older ’n dirt, old enough to be her grandpa, and there he is, sittin’ right there, next to my girl as big as you please. He ain’t got no right to do that.”

  One of the other men laughed. “What do you mean ‘your girl’? Come on, Pogue, you know that Emerald is the girl to anyone who has the money for her. Abby and Judy as well. That’s how they make their living.”

  “Well, I’ve got the money for her and she knows that. So what is she doin’ over there with that old man? He’s so old that I bet he farts dust.”

  “Seems to me like I remember Emerald tellin’ you she didn’t want nothin’ to do with you no more.”

  “She was just mad. She didn’t mean it.”

  “She sounded pretty certain to me.”

  “Well, she’s got no business bein’ over there with that old man.”

  “Maybe she thinks that old man is better-looking than you are, Pogue.”

  The others at the table laughed.

  There was some reason for the man making such a remark. Pogue was a particularly unattractive man. He was in his midtwenties, relatively tall, with three missing teeth in front, and a scar on his cheek. He had a flattened nose, and beady eyes that seemed to have a difficult time finding their position in the socket.

  “Well, I ain’t goin’ to put up with it.”

  “What do you plan to do about it?”

  “You just watch. Hey, Emerald,” he called across the room. “What are doing over there, sittin’ beside that old fart?”

  Emerald didn’t respond.

  “I asked you a question,” Pogue said. “What are you doin’ with an old man like that? You know damn well he can’t do anything for you.”

  “Leave ’er be, Pogue,” one of the others in the saloon said. “She ain’t doin’ nothin’ other ’n what she’s s’posed to be doin’. She’s sittin’ with someone while they drink.”

  “Nah, I don’t aim to let my girl sit there with that damn old fool. Emerald, you come over and sit by me. I’ll buy you a drink.”

  “Do you want to go over and sit with him?” Old Mo asked.

  “No, I wouldn’t want to be with him, even if you weren’t here. But he’s an evil man. I’m afraid of what he might do.”

  “Don’t be afraid. He isn’t goin’ to do anything,” Old Mo said.

  “Did you hear me, woman? I told you to get over here, now!”

  “The lady chooses not to join you,” Old Mo said.

  “You know what? I’m comin’ over there to get her, and if you get in the way, I’m goin’ to kick your ass!” Pogue said.

  Pogue went over to the table, then grabbed Emerald and tried to pull her up from the chair.

  “No! Leave me alone!” Emerald said.

  Old Mo started to stand, and Pearlie reached out for him. “Why don’t you let me handle this, Mo?”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Old Mo said.

  “Ha! You’ll take care of it?” Pogue said. “What do you think you can . . .”

  That was as far as Pogue got. Taking advantage of the fact that Pogue had both his hands on Emerald, Old Mo hit him with a roundhouse right that dropped the belligerent young man to the floor, out cold.

  “I’ll be damn!” someone said. “Did you see that?”

  Everyone saw it, and they looked on in silent awe as Old Mo sat back down. Emerald and the other two girls were looking at him with their mouths wide open. Even Pearlie and Cal had surprised expressions on their faces.

  “I expect you boys had better drag your friend back before he comes to. Otherwise, I’ll knock his damn head off,” Old Mo said.

  The men who had been sitting at the table with Pogue, and with expressions of shock still on their faces, came over to drag their friend back away from Old Mo’s table.

  “Why don’t you ladies go get us all another round of drinks?
” Old Mo asked.

  Still awestruck, the three women started toward the bar.

  “Mo, how the hell did you do that?” Cal asked.

  Mo uncurled his right fist. It had been wrapped around a lead cylinder about the width of his hand.

  “I had a little adjustment for age,” he replied with a smile.

  Pearlie and Cal both laughed out loud.

  “Cal, you’re the youngest. Pay attention. I think Old Mo . . . I mean Mister Morris, could teach us a thing or two.”

  The girls returned with the drinks then, and when they were all seated, Emerald proposed a toast.

  “I just heard that you broke Pogue’s jaw,” she said. A huge smile spread across her face. “That means I won’t have to be listening to him for a while. Here’s to you.”

  All lifted their glasses to Old Mo, who took it all in as if it were his due.

  The next morning when the sheriff gave Smoke the one thousand dollars, Pearlie spoke up.

  “Smoke, me ’n’ Cal’s talked this over. We both make more money than any of the other boys, and we’ve been with you for the longest, so, truth is, we don’t need any of the money. This way, if you just divide it up between Old Mo and the other four men, why, they’d have two hundred dollars apiece. And that would be real good money for them.”

  “You’re sure you want to do this? Both of you?”

  “We’re sure,” Cal said.

  “That’s a very decent thing for you to do,” Smoke said. “I’m proud of you. Both of you.”

  “I’m proud of you too,” Sally said. “And just to show you how proud I am, I’ll make some bear claws tonight.”

  “For ever’body? Or just for me ’n’ Cal?” Pearlie asked.

  “For everybody, of course,” Sally replied. “You didn’t really expect I would make them just for you two, did you?”

  “Well, you did say you was proud of us,” Pearlie said. “And I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

  Sally laughed. “You two are impossible.”

 

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