“I guess,” Roberts said.
“Well, get mounted and study on it while you ride to town,” Jeb said.
“Let’s go,” Clark said to Roberts.
While the others ate, Clark Wilson and Dave Roberts saddled their horses, mounted up and left camp.
“Clark’s your segundo?” Delay asked.
“He was my second for a long time before I went inside,” Jeb said, “but since I’ve been out I’ve been thinkin’ about changin’ that. I need somebody more like Tanner.”
“Tanner and me have ridden together a long time,” Delay said. “I never had somebody watch my back as good as him.”
“I’m gonna have to give it some thought when we’re done with all this,” Jeb said. “That’s for sure.”
“I been noticin’ somethin’,” Dave Roberts said to Clark as they rode toward town.
“What’s that?”
“Jeb’s been leanin’ a lot on Delay and Tanner,” Roberts said. “You’re supposed to be his right hand.”
Clark frowned.
“Yeah,” he said, “I noticed that too.”
“So what are you gonna do about it?”
“I’m gonna think about it,” Clark said. “Maybe I’ll take my cut from this bank job and go my own way.”
“You could get your own gang together.”
“Yeah, I could.”
“And if you do, you’ll need a second.”
Clark looked at Roberts.
“You volunteerin’?”
“You got any other takers?”
“I ain’t even sure what I’m gonna do, Dave,” Clark said, “but I’ll keep this conversation in mind.”
“That’s all I ask.”
They rode the rest of the way in silence, each alone with his own thoughts.
An hour later Jeb sent Samms and Leslie on their way to Pearl River Junction. James, on roof duty at City Hall, saw Wilson and Roberts ride down the town’s main street. He’d spotted them farther out and had waved his white towel at Thomas, who was right across the street. Dan Shaye and Sheriff Cotton had also seen the signal from their vantage points, so as the first two robbers entered town, they were being well watched.
Shaye joined Cotton in front of his office as the two men rode by.
“Know them?” Cotton asked him.
“No, you?”
Cotton shook his head. “Never seen them before and neither one matches Belinda’s description of Jeb Collier.”
Shaye kept his eyes on the two men, who—if they were part of Jeb Collier’s gang—were well trained and kept their eyes forward.
“I could brace them, as strangers in town,” Cotton said. “Ask a few questions.”
“I suggest you wait and see who else rides in today,” Shaye said. “Could be they’ll ride in at one-or two-hour intervals. Of course, it could also be they’ll ride in on different days.”
“And,” Cotton said, “could also be these two men aren’t even connected to Collier.”
“If we have seven or eight strangers ride into town today,” Shaye said, “I’m going to have a hard time believing that’s a coincidence.”
“Lawmen,” Roberts said to Clark.
“I see ’em,” Clark said. “Keep your eyes straight ahead. We ain’t doin’ nothin’ but ridin’ into town. Let’s just find the livery stable and get the horses taken care of.”
“How about a drink first?” Roberts asked. “There’s a saloon right there.”
“Let’s do this the way we were told, Dave,” Clark said. “Besides, that saloon is right across the street from the sheriff’s office. Let’s just hope it ain’t the biggest one in town.”
“I just thought a cold beer would go down good right now.”
“It might,” Clark said, “but is this the way you’d carry out my orders if you were my segundo?”
Roberts had no answer for that.
“Besides which,” Clark added, “it’s too damn early and the saloons are still closed.”
From his vantage point James was looking down at the two men and could not see their faces. He could, however, see his father and the sheriff. When he looked that way, Dan Shaye shook his head, indicating that neither of these men was Jeb Collier.
While Clark and Roberts took care of their horses and secured hotel rooms, the sheriff and his deputies remained where they were. The only one who had not seen the men ride in was Thad, as he was making rounds at the south end of town. Unfortunately, that meant that he saw Wilson and Roberts ride into the livery and recognized them as strangers. Contrary to the orders he had received not to brace strangers, he decided to go into the livery and talk to them. He felt this was a way he could prove his worth as a deputy.
Wilson and Roberts had turned their horses over to the livery owner and were turning to leave when Thad Hagen entered the stable.
“Mornin’, gents.”
Both men stopped short at the sign of the badge, but then noticed the youth of its wearer.
They were not impressed.
“Your momma buy you that badge, boy?” Wilson asked.
“I’m a duly appointed deputy.”
“You?”
“I got some questions for you fellas.”
Wilson made a rude noise with his mouth and he and Roberts started past Thad.
“Step aside, Deputy.”
“Now hold on—” Thad said, grabbing Wilson’s arm. The man turned quickly into Thad and hit him solidly on the jaw. The deputy staggered back, but didn’t go down.
“Dave,” Wilson said, “the deputy wants some trouble.”
“Might as well give it to him,” Roberts said and the two outlaws waded in, swinging their fists.
57
When Bill Samms and Roy Leslie rode in, they were also watched by all four men—Dan Shaye, Thomas, James, and Sheriff Cotton.
“Where’s Thad?” Shaye asked Cotton as the two strangers rode by.
“I don’t know,” Cotton said. “Making rounds, I guess.”
“The boy would like to prove himself, wouldn’t he?” Shaye asked.
“I think so,” Cotton said, “even more because you and your boys are here, though. Not just to me.”
One of the riders turned his head and looked right at Shaye, then turned away.
“Neither of these men are Collier either,” Shaye said. “I think I’m going to go and look for Thad.”
“Why?” Cotton asked. “What are you worried about?”
“I’m just worried,” Shaye said. “A young man like that, eager to prove himself, will not necessarily follow orders.”
“All right,” Cotton said. “I’ll wait here. If you go to the south end of town, you might end up at the livery at the same time as these two riders who just came in.”
“I’ll do my best to stay out of trouble,” Shaye said.
It was the liveryman who found Thad first. He was bending over him when the other two strangers reached the stable.
“Hey there!” Samms shouted.
Charlie Styles, who owned the livery, looked up at the two men.
“Be with ya in a minute, gents,” he said. “Got me a unconscious deputy here.”
“That a fact?” Leslie asked. “How’d that happen?”
“Don’t rightly know,” Styles said. “You leavin’ your horses for the day?”
“Likely,” Samms said.
“This fella’s got him a few lumps, but he’s still breathin’,” Styles said. “Guess he won’t mind if I take care of business first.”
Styles left Thad in the stall where he was lying and went to take care of the two horses.
When Shaye reached the livery, the two strangers were just leaving.
“Deputy,” one of them said by way of greeting.
Shaye touched his hat and nodded.
“Looks like one of your partners found some trouble,” the other man said.
“What are you talking about?”
“You’ll see,” the man said and he and his partner
kept walking, laughing together.
Shaye entered the livery and saw Charlie Styles leaning into one of the stalls.
“What’s going on?” her asked.
Styles looked up and said, “Busy day in here. Got one of your young fellers in here.”
Shaye walked over to the stall and saw Thad lying on the ground. His face was bruised and there was some blood coming from his nose. He’d obviously been beaten.
“Is he alive?”
“He’s breathin’,” Styles said.
“Get me a bucket of water.”
“Sure thing.”
As Styles went for the water, Shaye leaned over Thad, touching him, trying to determine if there were any other injuries that were not immediately evident, like a broken bone.
“Thad? Come on, boy.” He slapped the young deputy’s face. “Wake up, lad.”
“Here’s your water,” Styles said, appearing with a bucket.
“Dump it on him,” Shaye said. “Might be the only way to wake him up.”
“Should I get the doctor, then?”
“Dump it on him and then we’ll see.”
“Here ya go, lad,” Styles said and dumped the water on Thad, cackling all the while.
“Okay, old-timer,” Shaye said to Styles as Thad came sputtering to life, “that’ll do it.”
Style went away, taking his empty bucket with him, still laughing.
“Jesus—” Thad said. “What the—”
“Easy, boy,” Shaye said as Thad tried to jump to his feet. “Stay down a minute longer and tell me what happened.”
Thad wiped his face and shook it to get water out of his eyes.
“Gimme a minute.”
Shaye allowed him his minute and during that time noticed that Thad’s gun was still in its holster.
“Two men,” Thad said finally. “I saw them ride in, so I thought I’d check them out.”
“You were told not to brace anyone.”
“I just thought—”
“Tell me what happened.”
“I wanted to question them,” Thad said, “but they wouldn’t answer any questions. They…laughed at me. Didn’t think I was really a deputy. They…beat me up, left me in here, I guess.”
“Can you get up?”
“I…I think so.”
Shaye extended his hand and pulled Thad to his feet. The boy staggered a moment, then caught his balance.
“Find your hat,” Shaye said.
He waited while Thad hunted up his hat, reshaped it, and placed it on his head.
“How do you feel?” Shaye asked.
“Okay.”
“No permanent injury?”
Thad flexed his arms and hands, felt his face.
“No,” Thad said, “just some lumps.”
“Good. Now we can get back to work.”
“Are we gonna arrest them?”
“The men who beat you up? No.”
“What? Why not?”
“Why should we?”
“They beat me up! I’m a deputy.”
“Not for long if you disobey an order again. You were told not to engage any of these men.”
“I just thought—”
“It’s the sheriff’s job to think, Thad,” Shaye said. “It’s your job to follow his orders.”
“So we’re just gonna let them get away with it?”
“If we put them in a cell, they’d be out in no time,” Shaye said. “That’s not how we want them. When they make their move, we have to be ready. And you,” Shaye said, pointing for emphasis, “have to do what you’re told from now on. Understood?”
Thad looked down, shuffled his feet, and said, “Yeah, I understand, Mr. Shaye.”
“Good,” Shaye said, “we’re going back to the office now.”
As they started walking back, Thad asked, “Do you have to tell the sheriff about this?”
“What would you tell him about the bruises on your face? That you fell down? Would you rather he thinks you’re clumsy?”
“No, I guess not.”
A few moments later Thad said, “Mr. Shaye, do you think the sheriff will fire me?”
“For making a mistake?” Shaye asked. “And paying for it with a few lumps? Thad, if you admit to it and learn from it, I don’t think you’ll loose your job over it—unless I read Sheriff Cotton completely wrong.”
“He’s a decent man,” Thad said. “I thought I could learn a lot from him, but now I think I could learn a lot more from you.”
“I may be more experienced than Riley Cotton,” Shaye said, “but there are a lot of things about being a man he can teach you that I can’t.”
“A man?” Thad asked. “Or a lawman?”
“Take your pick, Thad,” Shaye said. “There are a lot of the same qualities in both.”
58
Thad was inside the sheriff’s office when Lou Tanner and Ben Collier rode in.
“What about them?” Cotton asked.
Shaye stared at the two men, who stared straight ahead as they rode by.
“That looks like Lou Tanner,” Shaye said. “He rides with Vic Delay.”
“And the other?”
“Don’t know him.”
By this time James and Thomas had changed places and Thomas was on the roof.
“Where are the other four?” Shaye asked.
“I took a walk while you were waking Thad up,” Cotton said. “Two of them got rooms at the hotel over there.”
“And the other two?”
“Don’t know,” Cotton said. “Not at the same hotel anyway. Now two of them are at Bo Hart’s Saloon—his first customers of the day—and the other two are eating at the café.”
Shaye started to laugh.
“What’s funny?”
“They’re riding in separate and staying in separate places,” Shaye said. “Sounds like a good plan—except for one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“They’re all using the same livery,” Shaye said. “Anybody could get a count from the liveryman.”
“Charlie Styles.”
They watched the two men ride to the far end of the street and disappear.
“Well, we know one thing, at least,” Shaye said.
“What’s that?”
“Where Lou Tanner is,” he answered, “Vic Delay won’t be far behind.”
“So the next two will be Jeb Collier and Vic Delay.”
“Unless they ride in separate.”
Jeb emptied the remnants of the coffeepot onto the fire and then kicked the rest of it dead.
“We ridin’ in together?” Delay asked.
“I been studying on that,” Jeb said, tossing the coffeepot away instead of packing it. “I think we should go in separate.”
“Why?’
“Because you and me are the only ones somebody might recognize,” Jeb said. “We’ll attract even more attention ridin’ in together.”
“Who goes first?”
“You.”
“Why?”
“Okay, then,” Jeb said. “Me. I thought you might want to get to a hot meal and a drink, but it’s okay with me if you don’t.”
“Forget it, forget it,” Delay said. “I’ll ride in.” He mounted up and looked down at Jeb. “How far behind me will you be?”
“Not far. I’ll finish breakin’ camp.”
Delay nodded and rode off in the direction of town.
Jeb looked around, decided a lot of what was in camp could stay. After they hit the bank, they’d have plenty of money to buy new stuff. As far as sending Delay in ahead of him, he figured once the killer was recognized, it might take the attention away from him. Just one extra reason for having a man like Vic Delay ride along with him.
Jeb figured once he finished his business in Pearl River Junction—the girl and the bank—the only man he’d need would be his brother Ben. Not that he really needed him, but he was his brother. He couldn’t very well sacrifice him the way he would the other men.
Th
e only one he’d have to kill, though, was Delay. Once he realized that Jeb had no intention of sharing the bank money with him, he’d come looking for him for sure. Jeb didn’t want to be looking over his shoulder while he was spending the proceeds of the Pearl River Junction bank job.
59
When Vic Delay rode into town, it was almost three. The outlaws had spread their arrivals out pretty good. Shaye was still in front of the sheriff’s office with Cotton. They weren’t going anywhere until all the men had ridden in.
Thad Hagen was on the roof and James and Thomas were at different ends of the main street, on different sides.
“That’s Delay,” Shaye said to Cotton.
“I could’ve guessed.”
Delay was completely clad in black and was wearing his leather gloves. As he rode past the sheriff’s office, he turned his head and looked at each man in turn.
“Think he recognized you?” Cotton asked.
“No reason why he should,” Shaye said. “I’ve seen him before, but we haven’t met.”
Delay’s face was expressionless and then he turned away, but instead of going to the livery he stopped abruptly in front of the café, as if he’d just noticed it or caught a whiff of the food.
“Stay here,” Shaye said.
“Why?” Cotton asked. “What’re you going to do?”
“I just thought I’d have a talk with Delay,” Shaye said.
“Do you want me to come and watch your back?”
“No,” Shaye said, “I don’t want to spook him. I just want to have a talk. I’ll be back.”
Shaye stepped into the street and headed down to the café.
From the roof Thomas could not see that Delay had stopped at the café, but he did see his father crossing the street and he wondered what was going on. He waved at the sheriff, who looked up at him and shrugged helplessly.
Vic Delay entered the café and drew all eyes to him. The middle-aged waitress showed him to a table where he could sit with one shoulder against the wall. It was the next best thing to sitting with his back against one. Of course, Jeb Collier instructed everyone to board their horses and find a place to stay as soon as they entered town, but Delay didn’t feel the instructions extended to him.
Nobody told Vic Delay what to do.
From his vantage point James thought that the lone man—who he assumed was Vic Delay, since he didn’t match the description of Jeb Collier—was going to ride past him, but abruptly the man reined his horse in and entered the café. He wanted to go over and look in the window at the gunman, but suddenly his father appeared and actually went inside.
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