by Shorty Gunn
‘I think Horace opens at eight o’clock, sir,’ a young man at the far end of the table answered, obviously the breakfast announcer and handyman at the house. An elderly woman sat quietly next to Birdie. Dickson took her for a permanent resident or possibly a relative. Two middle-aged men dressed in suits ate at the middle of the table, announcing they were in Peralta to sell dry goods and tack equipment. One studied Dickson a moment before posing a question.
‘And what is your trade, Mr Dickson?’
‘I’m a hunter.’
‘Ah, I love hunting. When I was a boy back in Ohio, I used to chase those cottontail rabbits round and round. Making a living at it must be exciting up here in mountain country.’
‘It can be, especially if they fire back.’
An attractive woman in her early thirties with long auburn hair sat on the opposite side of the table without speaking. Birdie noticed Dickson glancing at her. She decided it might be another opening.
‘Mrs June is travelling all the way to California, to meet her husband. She’s staying here for a short rest from rough stage travel. Those coaches are not the most comfortable things after weeks of getting jostled around in one. Will you be back for dinner tonight Mr Dickson, too?’
‘I expect to be.’ He finished a quick breakfast, getting to his feet. ‘Good day, madam.’
At the livery stable Dickson saddled his horse, sliding the sawed-off shotgun into a specially made scabbard. Rolo had drawn him a rough map showing how to reach the Goss ranch. He studied it a moment before saddling up and starting out of town. The ride took just over an hour, passing several mining locations with men working around them, until reaching a remote canyon beyond all the activity. Dickson reined to a stop, studying the scene. On the opposite side hill surrounded by scattered timber sat the dishevelled ranch. Dickson urged his horse closer until seeing Vernal Goss, sitting on the front porch with a blanket over his knees and a shotgun in his lap. The tall man rode right up to the rickety porch in his usual confrontational manner without a hail as the two iron-willed men stared at each other, until Vernal spoke.
‘If you’ve rode all the way out here to make me another offer to sell my place, turn that nag around and go back and tell those two crooks I ain’t sellin’!’
Dickson pulled his horse around so the badge on his lapel could be easily seen.
‘I’m not here to make you any offers for anything. This is official business. I’m here to talk to those boys of yours and get some answers. Get them out here.’
Vernal stiffened at the tone of his voice. No one talked to him like that and got away with it, not even some fancy-dressed stranger with a tin star pinned on him. His short temper began to rise as his arthritic hands gripped the shotgun tighter, slowly sliding the barrels around toward Dickson, with a silent threat.
‘Who in hell do you think you are to come ridin’ in here on my place and start barking orders? This is Goss ground you’re on. I could take you out of the saddle with one barrel, if I had a mind to!’
‘No you won’t. Because before you ever got that stove pipe up, you’d be dead. You’re too old and slow to out-pull me and you know it. Now where’s those boys of yours? Get them out here or I’ll go in and get them myself.’
‘You try that and I’ll cut you down before you make two steps. That tin badge of yours don’t mean nothin’ out here. I know who sent you. Those two mine men back in town. I’ll tell you just once my boys ain’t here and you better believe it. You got no reason to be out here except if someone was paying you, and I know who that has to be.’
‘I’m a US Marshal. My badge is good anywhere I go. That includes right here. You better not be lying to me about your sons. If you are I’ll take you in too.’
Vernal hesitated. He wasn’t quite sure what to do next. For the first time in years he’d run up against someone he couldn’t buffalo and who was packing a tin star to boot. He took in a deep breath, trying to decide how to answer without backing down.
‘I said they ain’t here and that’s the truth of it.’
‘Where are they then?’
‘I don’t know. Out huntin’ someplace.’
‘Where?’
‘I said I don’t know. It could be anyplace. We need meat.’
Dickson eyed the old man, trying to decide if he was lying or not.
‘When they get back I’m coming out here again. Understand? And they better be ready to start answering some questions, or I’ll swear out warrants against all four of you. You tell them that and you make it stick. I’ll see you real soon again.’
Dickson pulled his horse around, starting away as Vernal watched him go. The old man’s hands shook uncontrollably from tremors plus the nervous tension of being confronted so roughly. If there was one thing Dickson’s visit made clear it was that he had to be killed and fast. Vernal knew Dickson was working on the wagon hold-up and murder of John Standard. That could get them all hung. The sooner the boys got back, the sooner he’d come up with a plan to see to it Ben Dickson never made a second ride back to his ranch.
Ike, Virgil, Emmett and Elwood returned the next day with good news. They’d sold off the silver bars, but they barely had time to rejoice over it when Vernal told them about yesterday’s visitor.
‘He’s gotta be killed, and I mean right now,’ Vernal demanded. ‘I don’t want to hafta see you boys dangling from the end of a rope, and neither does your mother!’
His sudden announcement brought the conversation to an immediate stop. Ike looked around the table at his brothers, then back to his father. ‘Paw, I ain’t so sure killin’ a lawman is a good idea. Besides, he don’t know nothin’. Let ’em come back. We ain’t gonna tell him anything anyway.’
‘Yeah, Paw,’ Virgil added. ‘Why get in any deeper than we already are? No one knows we held up the freight wagon. But if we kill this lawman, they’ll just send others after him. I think Ike is right.’
‘You listen to me, you idiots.’ Vernal Goss pounded the table, eyes widening in anger. ‘Dickson is already pretty certain you four took that wagon. Any little slip-up you make he’ll use as an excuse to take you in. We can’t take no chance like that. The longer he’s on the loose poking around, the more chance he might turn up something. If I could get up out of this chair, I’d do it my own self, but I can’t. He said he’d be back in a day or two. You gotta see to it he never does come back. He must be stayin’ in town and there’s only one boarding house, Birdie Lee’s. Nighttime is the best time to find him and do what you have to. He’s got to move around to go eat or maybe to a saloon or over to the livery stable. He’s easy to spot. He’s about six foot tall, wears a big-brimmed hat, fancy clothes and some sort of high-topped lace-up boots. He’s probably with them mine men so look for him there too. He’s also got a fancy six gun with pearl handles on it. There ain’t nobody else in Peralta looks like that. You four go in there and watch where he goes, then do your job. That’s how we solve this lawman problem real fast!’
Chapter Three
When Dickson got back into town after confronting Vernal, he stopped by the mine office just as Rolo and Edward were closing up for lunch. Rolo unlocked the door inviting Dickson back inside, anxious to hear what happened at the Goss ranch.
‘Did you see the brothers?’ Mackenzie quickly questioned.
‘No, just the old man. He’s enough trouble on his own. Twisted up like he is makes him even more mean and dangerous. He likes to wave a shotgun around too. He’s lucky I didn’t have paper on his boys. I would have had to disarm him – with my own shotgun. That might happen sooner or later before all this is over.’
‘Where are his sons at?’ Chambers asked.
‘He says they’re in some town called Fool’s Gold. Is there such a place, or was that just a lie?’
‘Yes there is. It’s over the mountains, several days’ ride from here. They do a good deal of both hard rock gold and silver mining. Like us they have to haul their ore all the way down to Marysville for smelting. I
don’t know why his boys would be going over there. None of them ever worked a day for anyone, and especially not back-breaking mine work,’ Rolo wondered.
‘Maybe they didn’t go there at all? Maybe it’s all just a lie,’ Chambers suggested.
‘Either way I told the old man I’d be back to question those four of them and that’s exactly what I mean to do. I’ll do it one at a time away from each other. If they try lying, I’ll find out quick enough.’
‘We’re going out to eat tonight at the Grand Palace. Would you care to join us so we can talk about this some more?’ Mackenzie invited.
‘That might be a change of pace from Birdie’s boarding house. What time are you eating?’
‘Say, about six thirty?’
‘All right. I’ll meet you there. I’ve got a few things I want to buy before the stores close and that’ll give me plenty of time. See you then.’
Dickson exited the office, starting up the street as the mine men went to the window watching him go.
‘Can you imagine him riding right up to Goss and confronting him like that?’ Rolo shook his head in amazement.
‘Yes, I can. He’s that kind of a man. I’d say he’s lived his life doing the very same thing in other places to dangerous men. He’s one of a kind for sure. Looks like we hired the right man for the job. Neither Vernal or his boys are going to be pushed very far before they push back. Dickson’s heading for a showdown one way or the other. They’re like rattlesnakes in a boot. Shake it a little and it strikes back. It’s just a matter of time before something happens – and I don’t think much time at that.’
That evening after the sun went down, Ike pulled his horse to a stop in an alley one block behind Main Street, followed by his brothers. He had the plan his father had told him to follow to find and kill Ben Dickson. The old man said it was best done after dark when no one could see who did the shooting. Ike went over those orders again for the tenth time, repeating it to himself at a whisper so he wouldn’t get it wrong. Gathering his brothers around as the misty shadows of evening descended on Peralta, and kerosene lamps blinked on all over town, he repeated them now.
‘Virgil, Paw said you’re supposed to take one side of Main Street and watch fer Dickson. Remember he’s about six foot tall and carries a big, pearl handled revolver and wears some kind of funny knee-high lace-up boots and fancy clothes. Elwood, do the same on the other side of the street. Most stores are closin’ by now so look in saloons, gambling houses or maybe restaurants. Emmett and me are goin’ over to Birdie Lee’s boarding house. Paw thinks he has to be stayin’ there. If you find him don’t try to kill him by yourself. Meet back here in one hour and we’ll all gang up on ’em at the same time. Let’s git to it.’
Virgil and his brother went down a narrow alley to Main Street. Already the growing darkness made the forms of the men and women passing by into shadowy silhouettes. Virgil crossed the street, leaning up against a store front. He could just make out Elwood across from him. Both brothers watched people passing by for several minutes before growing restless, moving down the street and stopping to look in those few places still open. At the Gambler’s Den faro house, Virgil stepped inside. Already the smoky room was beginning to fill up with evening gamblers of every description and dress and the noise of excited gambling men. Not one came close to matching the description Vernal had given him. He stepped back outside, continuing up the street.
Elwood saw his brother disappear into the faro room, prompting him to start up his side of the street. At the door leading into Tong Sing’s Chinese restaurant, he stopped, trying to stare inside at dark figures sitting at tables and moving across the narrow, cramped room. He could just make out Sing’s tiny wife bringing steaming hot dishes to tables as the delicious aroma of strange food wafted outside into his face. He pulled the back of his hand across his drooling mouth before stopping himself, remembering he had a job to do. No one inside seemed to fit the description he had of Dickson. Turning away, he continued up the boardwalk passing dark storefronts, already closed for the evening.
Ike and Emmett trudged the three blocks to Birdie Lee’s boarding house. Behind curtained windows, the soft glow of kerosene lamps lit the night as the pair came to a stop in front of the building. ‘We can’t see nothin’ from here,’ Ike whispered. ‘Let’s git up closer and peek through them windows.’
Emmett nodded without answering. They pushed through a squeaky gate, tiptoeing up to the first window. Ike pressed his whiskery face against the glass, trying to make out the figures sitting around a table inside.
‘Can you see anything?’ Elwood asked.
‘Unh-unh. Let’s try another window,’ he grunted.
Starting for the living room window, Emmett suddenly tripped on shrubbery, falling flat on his face with a loud grunt. As Ike leaned down to help him up, the front door suddenly opened and a tall man wearing a wide-brimmed hat stepped out, closing it behind him and starting down the steps. Ike flattened himself next to his brother, only yards away in the dark. As the man passed they squinted up, seeing the reflection of starlight off a pearl-handled revolver before he pushed through the squeaky gate, starting towards town. The pair lay there, still not daring to breathe as Ike’s hand reached up gripping Elwood’s shoulder and digging in deep. When footsteps faded away, Ike whispered in his brother’s ear, ‘That’s him – it’s gotta be!’
Dickson walked steadily toward Main Street in his usual off-step gait. Halfway there he until suddenly spun on his good leg, pulling his six-gun, peering hard into the dark behind him. Ike and Emmett immediately sunk to the ground. Dickson thought he’d heard a noise that shouldn’t be there. For several seconds longer he did not move, listening, straining to see something, anything, only to be met by complete silence. Very slowly Dickson slid the big Colt back in its holster, taking one more long look back before starting again for his dinner engagement. Ike and Elwood stayed flat on the ground with their faces in the dirt, waiting for the tall man to fade away before pulling themselves back to their feet.
‘You big dumbbell,’ Ike threatened. ‘Be quiet. You almost got us both shot!’
Reaching the lights of Main Street, Ben Dickson strode up the boardwalk toward the Grand Palace, passing mostly men out for the evening. Approaching the front door, his attention was drawn to a weedy-looking man leaning up against the building near the entry. The tall, skinny stranger wore a tattered hat and threadbare clothes. His unkempt, whiskered beard largely hid his face except for a pair of small, beady eyes. As Dickson passed he also saw the butt of a six-gun sticking up in the man’s pants top under a dirty long overcoat. Their eyes met for just an instant. It was a cold, dead stare as Dickson stepped past him, going into the big room.
Passing through the busy bar, Dickson entered the dining room. Rolo and Edward were already at their table as Rolo waved him over. ‘You’re right on time,’ he noted, as Dickson sat down.
‘I try to be. I’ve always lived pretty much by the clock,’ Dickson answered.
‘We haven’t ordered yet, but I can recommend the steak. It’s good grass-fed beef from down around Marysville.’
‘Steak it is then. And a good bottle of whiskey would also sit well on the stomach. While we’re waiting for dinner, tell me more about this Goss family.’ He eased into a chair.
An unopened bottle of whiskey plus three glasses were brought to the table by their waiter, a small man with a neatly-trimmed beard and moustache, met by curly sideburns around his face. Dickson unsealed the top, pouring three stubby glasses full to the brim. ‘Salute,’ he toasted. ‘Here’s to quick success in our venture.’
Dickson sipped at the amber coloured liquid while the mine men filled him in on what else they knew about Vernal Goss and his sons, plus their reputation as loners even to people here in town. They also brought up the verbal battles and threats they’d had with the old man when they made him offers to buy his property. Dickson listened thoughtfully for several minutes before posing a question.
‘Has there been any other robberies or hold-ups here before you two had your wagon man robbed and killed?’
‘Only a few small thefts like businesses broken into at night, food or supplies taken. Most people thought it was just drifters passing through or miners down on their luck. There wasn’t any reason to expect anyone in town would do something like that. John’s murder is the first serious thing Peralta has ever had happen. We’ve had some scrapes, threats and fist fights, but nothing like what happened to John. Peralta has never even had a sheriff. That’s why we contacted you. His murder has to be settled and those that did it brought to justice, or the word gets out you can do anything you want up here and get away with it. That kind of wanton brutality and disrespect for human life cannot be tolerated. This town has to grow and have a reputation that grows with it,’ Chambers said, leaning forward for emphasis.
Outside in the night, Virgil moved from the front window facing the bar to a second one into the dining room. He pressed close against the glass, looking until he saw Mackenzie and Chambers engaged in conversation with a man whose back was to him. Dickson appeared to be a big man wearing dark clothes, with long hair that went down nearly to his shoulders. As he watched, a waiter came up with a tray of food, setting it on the table in front of the trio. Virgil knew at that moment he’d found the man they were supposed to kill. He also knew exactly where he would be for at least the next hour. Ike had said to meet back in one hour. That hour was up. He started quickly across the street, heading for the alley that would take him to his brothers with news they all wanted to hear.
‘I got ’em.’ Virgil ran up to the shadowy figures of his brothers. ‘He’s over at the Palace eatin’ dinner with them two mine men right now. When he comes out we gotta be ready to kill ’em!’
‘Should we take him on the street, or when he starts back to Birdie’s?’ Elwood wondered out loud.
‘Better on the street where we got some light,’ Ike ordered. ‘It’s too dark goin’ back to her place.’