So far as could be seen, my room was undisturbed. A quick glance at the roofs across the way showed nothing, and the street below was empty, although morning was not far off.
The first order of business was Jefferson Henry. I’d found the girl he wanted and he could have her. They deserved each other.
No bed ever felt so good as that one. I stretched out, groaned a little from sheer relief, and went promptly to sleep.
The sun was bright when I came down the stairs in the morning. For a moment I hesitated at the foot of the stairs, searching the street.
It was busy, as expected. A man sweeping the boardwalk, a wagon and a team tied near the supply store, a rider going past, and two women picking up their skirts as they stepped up on the boardwalk.
“Get back last night?”
The clerk was leaning on the desk. “Folks been asking for you.” He paused. “You staying on?”
“A few more days.”
“Maggie said if you came back to throw you out.” He smiled, shrugging. “Maggie doesn’t come down very often and she’ll not know you’re staying. Anyway, as long as you pay your bill I’ve no excuse.”
“Thanks.”
“A couple of Taylor’s men have been around. You’d better take the thong off that gun.” It was good advice and I acted accordingly. “You buy that story about Albro’s millions being around here somewhere?”
“No. He was too canny a man.”
“Folks say that’s what they’re all after, him in the private car, Maggie, Rolon Taylor, Pride Hovey, and you.”
“People like to talk.” I was watching the street and thinking. “If you think about it you’ll realize Albro wasn’t the kind to have idle money lying about. Wherever that money is, it’s well invested, you can bet on that.”
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Ain’t as much fun as buried gold. That’s the story people like. Some of them say you and the girl know where it’s at.”
“Wish we did,” I said grimly. “I’d have ridden out of here like my tail was afire.”
First, Jefferson Henry. Moving to the door, I glanced up and down the street, then at the upper windows across the street. Only then did I walk outside.
Oh, I was noticed all right! From what the clerk and German had said I knew the whole town was talking and it made an exciting story.
The car stood on its siding within a few feet of where it had been before. I swung aboard and rapped lightly. Almost at once the door opened and the tall, dignified black man ushered me back to the office. A moment later, Jefferson Henry came in, buttoning his vest. There were bags under his eyes and he looked tired.
He stared at me without pleasure. “I wasn’t expecting to see you,” he said, “running around the country like you’ve been.”
“You asked me to find a girl. I found her.”
He did not seem surprised. “Oh?”
“And if I were you I’d leave her alone. She’s trouble.”
“I hired you to find her, not for your opinions.”
“All right, I’ve found her. She calls herself Anne now and she is living, or was living, in Fisher’s Hole. She has some very tough characters with her but she seems to be in charge.”
“All right. You can go.”
“First, one thousand dollars bonus. I found her.”
He stared at me, and I waited. “You don’t deserve it.”
My smile only irritated him the more, but I said, “Whether I deserved it or not was not the question. That was your offer and I’ve completed the job.”
He sat down heavily. “All right.” He wrote out a check on the local bank. “Take it and get out.”
“This had better be good,” I said.
“It’s good.” He looked up suddenly. “Had you ever seen her before?”
“Yes. She’d been to our ranch. Stayed a little while.”
That at least pleased him. “I thought so. Did you know where she was hiding out?”
“No, I didn’t, and I don’t think she was hiding. I think she was just waiting.”
“Waiting?”
“Yes, I believe she was just waiting for you, or for somebody else, to find her.
I think she wanted to settle matters out of sight and in a place she could just ride away from when it was over.
“She was waiting for you, and looking for somebody else.”
That puzzled him, and disturbed him, too. He glanced at me. “Now who would that be?”
“You’ve paid me,” I said, “I’m no longer in your employ, but just a little advice, whether you want it or not. Don’t go looking for Anne Henry or whatever she calls herself. Leave well enough alone. Take what you’ve got and run.”
He lunged up from the desk, eyes bulging. “Take what I’ve got? What do you know, you damned cowboy! What do you know about what I’ve worked for, planned for, struggled for all these years? Leave now? I’d have to be crazy!
“I could finish what Albro started! I could run that railroad through to the Gulf! There’s millions in it! Albro knew! If I give up now, what will there be left?”
“Your life,” I said, and walked out.
Not being a trusting man, I went at once to the bank. The check was good.
I had my money, the job was done, and I could ride out with a clear conscience. After all, I had agreed to find a girl. I’d found her. I’d wanted a stake so I could drift for a few months without worry. On this much I was good for a year, maybe two if I was careful. The livery barn was yonder and my horse was getting too fat for his own good. Half my riding here lately had been on other people’s horses.
So why didn’t I go?
Well, I hadn’t had breakfast, for one thing. Least I could do was drop around and see German one more time. And Molly, of course.
She was all right. She owned a piece of a restaurant and had a good friend in German.
Soon she’d know everybody in town. She would have made a place for herself. So what was I worrying about?
Anne was still around, and Anne had no liking for Molly. Furthermore, Molly had something or knew something Anne wanted.
Baggott was still around, and Rolon Taylor’s boys were packing a grudge. But they were my trouble, not hers.
John Topp? The trouble I’d expected from him had never developed, and now that I was free of Jefferson Henry, it would not.
Three or four tough-looking men loitered outside the Golden Spur, a short distance beyond Maggie’s. They watched me coming, one of them standing with his feet wide apart, a toothpick in his teeth, facing me. I felt like walking down and belting him but didn’t.
Maggie’s Place was quiet when I came in. Only Kibble, that trainman, was there drinking coffee.
Dropping into a chair, I hung my hat on the back of another one. Molly came in smiling.
“Thought I’d come around an’ say goodbye,” I said, careless-like.
“Goodbye?”
“Well, you’re back here safe with German. You’ve got yourself a nice little business, and I just collected what Jefferson Henry paid me for finding Anne.”
“She may not be there now.”
“That’s his problem. I warned him to leave her alone.”
Molly brought my breakfast and sat down with me. “You’re going then? Really?”
“Might as well,” I said. “There’s a lot of country I haven’t seen.”
“German warned me that you were a drifter. He said you were fiddle-footed.”
It was true, damn it, but nevertheless it irritated me that he should tell her that.
Made me seem kind of no-account. A stir of movement made me look up. Kibble was coming across the room. “None of my business,” he said, “but I sort of like the way you do things. There’s talk around that you’re not getting out of town alive. I think it’s some of Rolon Taylor’s outfit.”
“Thanks,” I said. Looking over at Molly, I said, “I should have gone for my horse instead of coming in for breakfast.”
She just looked at me and
I couldn’t think of anything to say, when all the time I had the feeling that this was the time I should be saying something.
Rolon Taylor’s men? Maybe that fellow who had faced me from down the walk. Now what did he want? Now I’m not a trouble-hunting man, but at the same time, when somebody is after you with trouble on his mind he’s hard to avoid in a small town like this one. If a man rode into one end of the street and started to say “I’m just passing through!,” by the time he’d said it he had.
By this time everybody in town would know that I sometimes walked from the hotel to Maggie’s along the back side of the buildings. Things like that don’t pass unnoticed, and when there’s mighty little to talk about it gets to be mentioned.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“Why, I’m going out there. I’d better start toward them or they’ll shoot me in the back.”
“I’ve got a shotgun,” German said.
“You stay out of it. If there’s trouble it came with me, and when I go I’ll take it with me.”
Breakfast tasted mighty good and I lingered over my coffee. There would be more than one of them out there and they would be out to do me in. They were wise enough to scatter out so I couldn’t bunch my shots.
“German,” I said, “do you ever sweep the walk this time of day?”
“Sometimes,” he said, “sometimes I do.”
“Why don’t you sweep it now,” I suggested, “and while you’re about it just give me a rough idea of how those men are positioned?”
He took up his broom and swept some imaginary dust out of the front door, then followed to sweep it off the walk. Almost involuntarily my eyes lifted to the window across the street. It was open at least six inches.
That, too. Might be happenstance, of course.
German came back in. “There’s four of them, at least. One’s across the street, two of them by the water-trough in front of the Spur, and one’s sitting on the bench this side of the Spur. They’ve got a plan and they are ready.”
“Don’t go out there, Milo! Please!” Molly’s eyes were wide and scared.
“Now, Molly, those boys have gone to all that trouble just to show me some attention.
Least I can do is acknowledge it.”
“Folks are gettin’ off the street,” German said. “The word’s out.”
“See? There’s no way I can disappoint all those people. Supposin’ they got off the street and then nothing happened?”
Now I was taking it easy-like, but believe me, I didn’t feel all that good inside.
Of course, I had it to do. They’d wait and wait and then finally they’d come after me, endangering both German and Molly. It was up to me to go out there but I wanted a plan in mind, so I did some thinking on how they were situated.
“No use waiting,” I said, “but keep the coffee hot. I’ll be back for another cup.”
Molly came to me with the old man’s six-shooter I’d taken. “Take this,” she said, “you may need an extra.”
Now that was a thoughtful lady!
I put a hand on the doorknob. I had to get clear of the door-one quick step, and-!
Nobody could have done it quicker, smoother, or better. When I went through that door it was slick as a whistle and I already had a gun in my hand.
They went for theirs and I saw a fifth and a sixth man suddenly step into view, one of them with a rifle.
Chapter Twenty-five.
When I reached the street and saw all those men out there I thought I’d bought my ticket. The man facing me about thirty feet off was that one who had stood spraddle-legged across the walk. I never shot a man with pleasure, but this came almost to that point.
He had a tobacco-sack tag hanging out of his shirt pocket and my bullet cut the lower inside edge off it. Just about that time I heard a boom from up and behind me, a boom that sounded like a Sharps .50.
The man in the street center went to his knees, tried to get up and then fell again, and then there was shooting from further along and I saw Pablo and Felipe out there, cutting down some of Taylor’s men. The Big Fifty boomed again and all of a sudden that street was empty except for those who were down and my own friends.
Turning around to look for that Big Fifty, I saw that upstairs window closing.
There were four men down in the street, one struggling to get up, the rest of them no longer paying mind to anything.
Pablo and Felipe walked toward me and Pablo said, “This is all. They are finish.”
“Rolon Taylor-?”
“Finish. Shelby come down, burn him out. Taylor rustle cows, stampede horse herd, shoot me. Shelby say you got ten seconds, ride out or hang to those trees. They are gone, all gone.”
My eyes went to Felipe. “You work for Shelby?”
He lit the cold cigarette in his teeth and spoke around it. “I work for nobody.”
“Well-thanks, Felipe.”
He threw the match into the street. “For nada.” He touched a finger to the edge of his sombrero and walked away toward the Golden Spur.
People were coming from doors along the street, some of them stared at the bodies, some walked hurriedly away. Pablo was walking after Felipe. Turning, I went back to the hotel.
The clerk looked at me as I came in. “This was a dull town until you came along,” he said. “I never thought I’d want it to stay dull, but I do.”
“Want me to leave?”
He shrugged. “Whenever,” he said, and I went up the stairs, entered my room, and lay down on the bed. I stared up at the ceiling, hands clasped behind my head. What I wanted now was some big country and a long trail.
For a long time I lay there and finally my eyes closed. When I opened them they looked at the wardrobe where Molly had left something hidden.
Then I thought of that Big Fifty booming out from behind me. Arkansaw Tom Baggott.
It had to have been him … why?
My eyes closed again, but I was not asleep, just resting. Slowly I let my muscles relax, I did not think of the man I had killed. I knew his kind only too well. I did not know his name, I did not know his origin, I only knew the type. A lot of swagger, a trouble-hunter, wanting to be known but not realizing how empty and how brief is a reputation bought with a gun.
Up there in the wardrobe could be the solution to all of our problems. Molly had not said so but I believed it was what was taken from the safe after Nathan was killed.
I did not know what it was but I had an idea.
Molly … I’d have to see Molly. And German. Then I could ride out, west into the San Juan country. I had some distant cousins out there, had a ranch somewhere west of the San Juans.
Anne? What about Anne? Taylor had worked with her and I she had lost him, lost his men. She still had old Eyebrows with his shotgun, and that big woman, and the dude, the city man. Now who would he be?
Again I thought of Nathan Albro, an intelligent man who knew how to make money, who knew how to build railroads and open vast lands to use and development, but was basically a lonely man. In his mind he was reaching out for affection, not knowing how, not finding it.
Except in Molly, the daughter of his housekeeper.
What would Anne do?
A shrewd girl, and a very hard one. What would she do now?
She was on record as Nathan’s daughter, although she was only a stepdaughter. If there was no will, she would inherit all, but she was afraid there was a will, maybe she even knew there was.
If there was a will, she must have gathered that Molly would benefit.
Therefore she must eliminate Molly.
They had taken her once, obviously with the intention of getting from her the location of the will and of the gold, for they were thinking in terms of gold, in coins or bars.
Molly was the one they must deal with, in one way or another. And Molly was vulnerable.
Jefferson Henry? And what had happened to Stacy Henry? That she was dead seemed obvious, but how? Where? When? Nathan Albro, a ma
n of good intentions, had left a trail of murder behind him.
There was a tap on the door. My hand slid the gun from its holster; held in my right hand, it lay on the bed beside me. There was no chair under the knob.
“Come in,” I said, and it was Jefferson Henry.
He looked tired and old. He stepped inside, hat in hand. “We can talk business,” he said.
“Sit down.” I hitched myself a little higher. He could see the gun.
“You won’t need that,” he said.
I smiled at him. “Who can tell?” I said.
“This has gotten out of hand,” he said. “It began as a simple affair. Anne, or Nancy, if you wish to call her that, was to inherit. Her mother was my son’s wife. I hoped to help her, to be of service.”
I smiled and saw the flicker of irritation cross his face.
“Now that I have found her she will not talk to me. She says I have nothing to do with it, or with her.”
“Isn’t she right?”
Again that irritation, more obvious this time. “Of course not. I am her nearest living relative. I am a man experienced in business. No young girl-”
“Henry,” I interrupted, “you obviously haven’t seen much of Anne. She’s no average young girl. She’s young, and she’s a girl. You’re right that far, but she’s cold as ice. She’s sharp and shrewd and dangerous. She’s three times as smart as you are and a whole lot meaner. This is one time you should fold your cards and get out of the game. You’re bucking a stacked deck.”
“Maybe.” He dismissed the thought with a gesture. “But you and me. If we worked together.”
He looked up suddenly, staring right into my eyes. “I think you know something. I think you have the key. There’s millions in this-”
“I am not interested in money.”
His impatience was obvious. “Nonsense! All men are interested in money. There’s talk of millions in gold, but that’s for children. The money is in that railroad and I am the one who can put it all together.”
“No,” I said.
“What do you mean, ‘no’?”
I swung my feet to the floor, still keeping my hand on my gun. “All I want is to ride out of here.”
He could not believe it, and given his viewpoint, would not believe it. When I started to get up he motioned me to sit down again. “Albro had it all worked out. He had the route surveyed, he had the money to get started, he had every step planned. He was a very thorough man. Now he has passed on, God rest his soul, but the work must go forward. Nathan had no legitimate heirs, so why not us?”
Milo Talon (1981) Page 18