Tiff's Game (Perry County Frontier Series)

by Roy F. Chandler

  "That big one is Chip Shatto. I think the other's that Captain Roth, the one who owns barges." He giggled almost to himself. "They're moving stiff because of that fight the other night. It was a humdinger. Doc. Miller claimed bones were broken, and two men had their faces actually caved in like he'd never had to fix before." The oldster became wistful. "I'd give a lot to have seen it"

  Shade didn't give a hoot in Hades about a fistfight. He forced himself erect. The armor under his shirt was almost too heavy to endure. A young farmer with a rifle watched his labored approach.

  Saul asked, "Are you Tiff Shatto, the one who did the gambling?" Shade knew he wasn't. Tiff Shatto was a western man, but the local might have information.

  The Long boy was flattered. "Nope, Tiff isn't here. We're just helping guard." He looked about with suspicion. "Some of that Haycock gang could be around."

  Shade was afraid he would have to ask, but the farmer rambled on. "Tiff's out looking over his barge. He'll come upriver later on."

  Weakness forced Shade to return to his seat.

  The oldster was worried by his new acquaintance's appearance. "You're sweatin' almighty hard. You'd best stay sitting a while, then get back in bed till noon meal."

  Saul asked, "Where's the closest livery?"

  "Why right down the block and around the comer."

  Shade eyed his companion speculatively. Nothing seemed wrong with him. He was just old. Saul judged he would do.

  "Maybe you could help me out. I need to see this Tiff Shatto right away. I'd pay you well to rent a carriage and drive me out to where that barge is."

  The old-timer appeared willing, but had to ruminate a minute. Shade's offer humped him along. "Here's money for the rig. You get what we need and pick me up here." Then Saul put on the clincher. "We'll only be out there for a word or two. I'll pay five dollars for your service."

  Five dollars, a week's pay for a few hours of driving? The oldster was on his way.

  Chip Shatto came out of the bank carrying obviously heavy leather bags. A pack animal had empty panniers, and the money pouches were loaded.

  Shade grimaced. His ranch could probably be bought for what was in those bags, but Tiff Shatto would not live to spend it.

  The armed bunch turned away, the pack horse almost hidden among them. Shade became aware of other onlookers gathered at comers and in open doorways. Well, their show was not over yet. The shooting was still to come.

  Saul felt a little better. He was weak, but he could last. It looked as though all the shooters had gone with the gambling money. Tiff Shatto might even be alone. Shade hoped so. The fewer witnesses, the better. His oldster could probably be convinced of anything suggested to him. Saul might claim Shatto charged or something. A few repetitions, and the foggy old man would believe he saw it that way.

  Shade waited with some patience. The sun had heated the metal breastplate, and its warmth was comfortable. He dozed until the clip clop of a single horse and the grind of iron rims told him his transportation had arrived.

  Tiff and Lily had thoroughly examined the barge. The morning had gone quickly with some time being wasted by the garrulous old captain's detailed explanations of how he intended moving and caring for Tiff's new possession. That was not all, of course. The captain had to describe to Lily his days with Tiff coming downriver and, in particular, Tiff's encounter with the hoodlums on the Lewistown docks. The man could run on.

  Lily said, "You didn't mention that trouble, Tiff."

  Tiff watched her laying out a lunch the Duncannon hotel had packed for them. He liked watching her movements. There was a swish and sway to them that he found entrancing.

  Tiff held his right hand high and blew often on the swollen fingers. They ached some but were better than the day before. Human heads really weren't the best things to slug your knuckles against.

  "Well, I wasn't making any secret of it. I told Uncle Chip. I guess that was before you came out to the house." Tiff shook his head. "It all seems so long ago. If Perry County life always moves this fast, we will never get loose to go to Paris."

  Lily laughed. "Believe me, Tiff, it is not usually like this. Months go by without seeing a new face or having anything exciting happen. Every story gets listened to a hundred times, and we do exactly the same things day in and day out." She sighed, "I'm sure we will come back to Perry County, and for me it will always be home, but I am really looking forward to seeing other places."

  A buggy had pulled up, and the old captain was pointing them out to its occupants. More visitors coming to see the barge and where the excitement had happened, Tiff supposed.

  On Sunday there had been a steady stream of lookers, but this was a working day, and until now none had appeared. Except for him, Lily, and the captain, the turning basin and docks were deserted. After their lunch, he and Lily would ride home. The distance was long, and they wanted to be in well before dark.

  There he was, standing on his barge deck, about as Shade had pictured him. An average looking man in a leather jacket, wearing a western hat. It almost had to be Tiff Shatto, but Saul intended making sure before he pulled trigger.

  A woman was off to the side a little way. The barge man that had pointed Shatto out was moving away. It couldn't be better, but he did not want the oldster driving the buggy to be too close. A little distance would help the old-timer recall things Saul's way. Shade told him to hold up.

  Saul climbed out carefully. The buggy shielded him for the moment, and he adjusted his armor and the hang of his double-barrel. He cocked both hammers, excitement hitting suddenly and speeding his blood. He made sure the open duster hid the shotgun, then he took up the cane he had purchased and went to the barge.

  Lily was declaring, "Captain Roth says he can marry us, but I'm not sure about that, Tiff. He hasn't been to sea for years, and I heard a captain can only marry people on their boats anyway."

  Tiff laughed, "Well, we could get married by a proper pastor and still let Captain Roth have his ceremony. I can't believe your aunt would settle for just the captain anyway."

  A cold hand plucked tentative fingers along Tiff's nerve ends. Startled, Tiff swung around. The buggy he had seen was halted well out, and an old man was caning an uncertain way toward the dock. Tiff s eyes searched, but no danger appeared.

  Still uncomfortable, Tiff looked again. Nothing.

  Then Lily said, "Tiff?" and she was looking straight at the old man.

  Tiff felt an incoming tide of fear swelling in Lily. His own hackles rose like a threatened grizzly's.

  But why? The old man was positively staggery, yet, Lily's attention was on the swaying figure already at the dock edge. Tiff centered his own concentration on the duster-clad oldster.

  Hatred—black, raging hatred—foul and tornado violent swirled into Tiff's mind. The awareness was numbing and Lily felt it, too. Tiff heard her gasp.

  The old stranger stepped heavily onto the barge; Tiff felt it lurch and move a little. Unfocused by the intensity of the emotion blazing from the man, Tiff flexed his swollen fingers, shifted balance, and slid his pistol holster handier for a left-handed draw.

  It still seemed improbable that the bent and sick looking stranger intended violence, but the feeling was powerful and Tiff got ready.

  It was a low step down from the barge's thick bulwark to the deck. To make it, the old man had to use his cane and concentrate on his balance. Only four steps away, the duster clad figure halted, and Tiff intently studied the features behind the short, untended beard. The huge head with its drawn and pain ridden features was not familiar, but Tiff knew the eyes: the look of a madman . . . the glassy yet flaming ferocity of a mind bent on murder.

  Saul Shade asked, "Tiff Shatto?"

  Tiff answered, "Yes," and Shade's soul shrieked in maniacal satisfaction.

  If possible, the concentrated venom increased in Shade's eyes. He said only, "I am Saul Shade, and I have come for you." His cane fell away unnoticed, and the duster flicked aside. Shade's fingers flew with p
racticed instinct to the shotgun's stock.

  The words did not have time to reach Tiff Shatto's mind. The name might mean something later. The hanging shotgun disclosed by the swept aside duster was all important right now.

  Tiff's body went sideward. His left wrist twisted palm out into a lightning snatching, backhanded draw. The Colt leveled itself with Tiff's trigger finger already working.

  The shotgun was shifting its ugly snouts searching. Tiff's pistol bucked once, twice, and a third time, small reports, only popping sounds in the open air.

  Lily saw the shotgun and sensed Tiff's draw. His pistol shots blended into a single prolonged explosion, and the attacker's shirt front jumped and danced. A strange metallic clanging struck her hearing. The shotgunner staggered from the pistol bullets' impacts, but stayed upright, the twin muzzles of the scatter gun again swinging into line.

  Shatto's first bullets sledged Saul Shade, staggering him back a step and beating air from his lungs. The impacts against the armor were astounding. Shade felt himself reel, and a corner of his mind was awed by the speed of Tiff Shatto's draw. For an immeasurable instant, he knew that Baker had fired first and had died anyway, but it did not matter.

  Laughter, mad and merciless, floated from Shade's nearly collapsed lungs. He had taken Shatto's bullets and had not wasted a barrel on air. Saul again got the unfired shotgun rising toward its victim.

  Tiff heard the maniacal laughter. It could not be, but hit three times, the old man hung there, still fighting his shotgun. Tiff gave him no quarter. Again the pistol hammered three .41 caliber bullets into the attacker's chest.

  Tiff saw his second volley go home on top of the first. The shotgunner was again staggered, but this time, Tiff heard the clang of bullets on iron and saw the ricochet of his bullets. One or more of the distorted ricochets blasted the stick figure's arms, but the shotgun kept rising—and kept rising, until it was almost vertical.

  Then it fired, both barrels, in a tremendous blast, whipping and jerking the frail shooter, whose backward stagger became violent with an arm flailing wildly for balance. A step too far, the figure staggered before all control was lost and he toppled like a sawed-off tree, backward off the barge, his boot soles suddenly displaying their wear.

  Like the first shots, Shatto's second barrage bounced from Shade's chest armor. Saul felt the sting of a bullet in his upper arm, but he was fighting to get his gun into line. Again staggered, his heels struck the barge's gunnels and balance flew. His mind cursing, Shade fired in desperation, hoping his charges might strike home. Backward he fell, wondering if he might have hit Shatto at that.

  Like a dropped melon, Saul Shade's oversized skull struck the weathered dock planking. It burst almost as easily.

  Limp, already dead, Shade's body sagged and slid into the gap between dock and barge. It dropped with a silent, boneless fluidity and disappeared into the black water with only a small splash. Weighted by the armor, all that remained of Saul Shade sank to the turning basin bottom.

  Until the sheriff and the coroner arrived, no one attempted to raise the body. Both officials were hard to find, and a crowd to match the gambling night had assembled before much happened.

  Chip and Carter Roth had been turned back by telegraph at Newport and returned to Duncannon on the first train. They listened to the old buggy driver and to Carter's barge captain. Except for Lily and Tiff, there were no other witnesses.

  Lily remembered the madman's words best. "He said he was Saul Shade."

  Chip was flabbergasted. "All the way back here, for God's sake?"

  Tiff said, "I think he was crazy. His eyes were wild, and his voice was a screech."

  Carter looked at the black water. "Crazy and dead. How many times did you shoot him, Tiff?"

  "Six times, but he was wearing some kind of iron shield. The bullets just bounced off."

  Tiff showed chagrin. "I should have realized that when he stayed up after three hits, but it was fast shooting, and I never ran into a shield before." He shook his head. "There's something about a shotgun pointing at you that makes clear thinking difficult."

  The turning basin was shallow, and a pair of volunteers recovered the body from shoulder-deep water. In death, Saul Shade appeared withered and old, but the sawed- off shotgun had kept him dangerous. The iron breastplate, heavily dented by Tiff's bullets, aroused more interest than Shade's lifeless form.

  Carter Roth was complimentary. "Good shooting, Tiff. All six in a hand's span."

  Tiff was grim. "Yep, and all six into a steel plate."

  Chip nodded. "Just as well he lost his balance. You'd of had a race reloading."

  There would be a hearing, but no one doubted it would be perfunctory. Four witnesses would testify to Shade's attack. There would be no opposing view.

  Chip raised the important question. "We've got to wonder how many more Shades there are out there, Tiff.

  If they followed you this far, they might not quit just 'cause Saul died."

  Tiff did not have to weigh options.

  "Fact is, Lily and I've decided already what we're going to do. Shade appearing will just speed us along.

  "We'll marry simple and put distance behind us.

  "We'll leave as soon as the law will let us.

  "We're going to Europe."

  Tiff's teeth gleamed white and strong in a humorless smile. "If Shades keep coming, they'll have long trips."

  His lips thinned and hardened. "And any that come will be traveling one way."

  Chapter 22

  As it often did, the morning fog had hidden the harbor entrance. The great ship, four months out of Liverpool, England, sighted on the height of Mount Tamalpias rising above the mist. Sails were luffed, and the ship waited for wind to clear the fog and an incoming tide to help her way.

  Before noon she sailed full and by through the Golden Gate, holding Alcatraz well to port, then furling all sail for the steam tugs to ease her suddenly lifeless hulk into a berth.

  Tiff and Lily stood together on the foredeck observing the flags hoisted on Signal Hill and exclaiming over the jewel-like beauty of San Francisco from the bay.

  Tiff said, "It's been more than three years since I left here. The city has grown." He studied a burned-out area near the water. "A lot of the places I knew are gone, but the new ones will be better."

  Lily held the boy's small body close to her, sheltering him from the sea breeze, and hugged her husband's arm. "The last two of those years have been marvelous, Tiff."

  "They have been special, Lily." Tiff's arm encircled his wife. "But it is good to be home."

  "Will San Francisco be our home, Tiff? You have never really decided."

  Tiff chuckled a bit ruefully, "I am slow sometimes, aren't I"

  He looked over the sprawl of city, its streets driving straight and true, uphill away from the water.

  "It depends some on whether there are any Shades or Shade relatives lurking about. This is a great city, but living here is not worth risking some sort of Shade vengeance."

  "That all seems unreal now, Tiff."

  "Sort of dream-like to me, too.

  "Pap and John came out and poked around. They wrote that Shade's ranch is broken up and nobody cares. John said he couldn't even raise interest in what might have happened to old Saul, and of course, he wasn't saying. Nobody knew where Saul got to, and nobody cared."

  "We will be careful anyway, won't we."

  Tiff hugged her tightly. "We'll check with Pat O'Malley and everybody else I can find.

  "Assuming all is well, we'll build our home on Knob Hill, and down below we will open the kind of gaming rooms we liked in Europe. We'll play when the mood strikes, but our dealers will do the day-to-day work."

  Tiff stretched and breathed crisp California air. "But first, we'll go east to the Arrowhead. My people are aching to meet you and little Robbie, and I'm half dying just waiting to show you off."

  Tiff stretched again, and without awareness, his fingertips brushed the ivory butt of
the Colt Lightning at his waist. He had not needed the pistol since Saul Shade had sunk to the canal bottom. The game had been good and looked to be better. But the game also never ended, and luck or skill could turn.

  Whichever way the coin fell, Tiff Shatto planned being ready.

  About Roy Chandler

  Roy F. Chandler retired following a twenty year U.S. Army career. Mr. Chandler then taught secondary school for seven years before becoming a full time author of more than sixty books and countless magazine articles. Since 1969, he has written thirty-one published novels and as many nonfiction books on topics such as hunting, architecture, and antiques.

  Now 87 years of age, Rocky Chandler remains active and still rides his Harley-Davidson across the continental United States.

  He divides his time among Nokomis, FL, St Mary's City, MD, and Perry County, PA.

  Rocky Chandler: Author, Educator, Soldier, Patriot in 2012

  Books by Roy Chandler

  Reading order of fiction books in the Perry County Series

  Friend Seeker

  The Warrior

  Arrowmaker

  The Black Rifle

  Fort Robinson

  Ironhawk

  Song of Blue Moccasin

  Tim Murphy, Rifleman

  Hawk's Feather

  Shatto

  Chip Shatto

  Shatto's Law (Ted's Story)

  The Boss's Boy

  Tiff's Game

  Cronies

  The Didactor

  The Perry Countian

  The Sweet Taste

  Old Dog

  Gray's Talent

  Ramsey

  Shooter Galloway

  Shatto's Way

  All Books By Publication Date

  All About a Foot Soldier, 1965 (A colorful book for children)

  History of Early Perry County Guns and Gunsmiths (With Donald L. Mitchell), 1969

  A History of Perry County Railroads, 1970

  Alaskan Hunter: a book about big game hunting, 1972