Ralph Compton Big Jake's Last Drive
Page 26
“Is that the way you figure it?”
There was enough light for Jake to notice Garfield’s eyes suddenly darting about, and he realized he’d struck a nerve. It had been a guess, but it turned out to be a good one.
“I tell you what, Big Jake,” Garfield said. “I’ll give you a chance to walk away from this and forget the whole thing. How’s that?”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Garfield,” Jake said. “I’ve got too much invested in this, already. And too many men have died.”
“Well then, fill your hand, Big Jake.”
They both drew their pistols from their belts, and later witnesses would comment that it was hard to choose who was slower, since they had both pretty much fumbled their weapons out.
They each pulled their triggers over and over again, hoping at least one shot would strike home. The men standing in front of the show palace scattered, as many of Jake’s shots went wild. Glass broke, at least one horse cried out in pain while the others yanked at their reins, pulling them loose from the hitching posts, where their riders had carelessly looped them as they rushed to get inside.
The horses bolted, some of them running between Jake and Garfield.
Garfield could have stepped away from the horses before drawing his gun, but his intention actually was to use them as cover. Big Jake’s guess was right; Garfield was a genius with a rifle, and a dolt with a handgun.
As all the horses scattered in fear, the only one who stood his ground was the sorrel.
The horses ran off, the onlookers ducked back into the palace, and it was suddenly quiet enough for the sound of both guns’ hammers falling on empty chambers to be heard.
Jake had to reload.
Garfield dropped his handgun into the street and lunged to pluck his rifle from the sorrel’s back.
“Jake!”
He turned toward his name and saw Curly standing there, holding his gun.
“Catch!”
As Curly tossed his pistol in the air Jake dropped his and reached out to catch it, knowing he had a fifty-fifty chance of actually grabbing it as it flipped end over end toward him.
Amazingly, the grips landed right in his hand. As he turned to point the weapon at Garfield, the man also turned, bringing his rifle to bear on Jake.
Jake had fired six shots wildly and missed Garfield completely. But this time he pulled the trigger once, and the bullet struck Teddy Garfield right in the chest. All the strength went out of the man’s arms before he could pull the trigger of his rifle, which then dropped from his limp hands. He fell onto his face in the street, dead.
“Stand right there!” Jake heard a voice behind him say. “Drop the gun.”
Jake did, and raised his hands.
“Law?”
“That’s right.”
The speaker came around in front of him, holding his gun, and wearing a sheriff’s badge.
“There’s a story here, Sheriff,” Jake said, “and I wanna tell it to you.”
“You’ll get your chance,” the lawman said.
The witnesses came back out from the palace now that the shooting had stopped, and Curly came walking over to where Jake and the sheriff were standing.
“It was a fair fight, Sheriff,” Curly said.
“The kid’s right, Sheriff,” one of the onlookers called out. “We saw it. That feller on the ground called for the other feller to fill his hand.”
The other onlookers began to nod their heads.
“Well,” the sheriff said, staring at Jake from beneath bushy white eyebrows that matched his mustache, “that may be, but it looks to me like we got some property damage to take care of.”
The sheriff picked up Curly’s gun from the ground and stuck it in his belt.
“Let’s take a walk, mister,” he said to Jake.
As the sheriff marched Jake off to his office, Curly grabbed Jake’s gun from the dirt and stuck it in his belt.
The onlookers were now gathering around Garfield’s body, taking a closer look.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
By morning Jake had told the sheriff his story, from driving the herd to Dodge City to tracking Garfield to San Antonio.
Garfield’s body had been removed from the street, where a large crowd had eventually gathered, probably made up of the gamblers who had lost their money and had nothing else to do but stare at a dead body, for free.
While Jake was in the sheriff’s office, telling his story and answering questions, Curly had reclaimed his sorrel from in front of the Alamo, and had then gone and found Taco and Dundee to tell them what happened.
The three of them were outside the sheriff’s office when the door opened and Jake staggered out.
“So no jail time?” Dundee asked.
“No,” Jake said, “I just had to pay the city for the lamps I shot out, and pay the show palace for the windows I broke.”
“You did fire a lot of shots,” Curly said.
“Typical gunfight, huh?” Dundee asked.
“I also had to pay the vet’s bill for the horse I nicked,” Jake said, with a yawn.
“Sounds like a lot of your money is gonna end up stayin’ here in San Antone,” Dundee said.
“The money does not matter,” Taco said. “You did what you set out to do, Big Jake. Señor Chance has been avenged.”
“Yes, he has,” Jake said, yawning again.
“You had better get some sleep, señor,” Taco said.
“You got that right, old friend,” Jake said. “The sheriff wants me out of town first thing tomorrow mornin’.”
“At least he’s givin’ you today,” Curly said.
“I told him I needed to get some rest, and then to find my sorrel.”
“He’s in the livery, Big Jake,” Curly said. “I grabbed him last night.”
“Thanks for that, Curly.”
“So it’s all over?” Dundee asked. “You don’t mind if we spend some time in a saloon today?”
“Like Taco, says,” Jake replied. “I did what I set out to do. You boys are on your own now. Saloon, gambling hall, whorehouse, whatever you want. Go do it. I’m gonna get some shut-eye.”
“And after that, señor?” Taco asked. “Where will you be going now that you no longer have a ranch?”
“Taco, my amigo,” Jake said, “I don’t have any idea.”
They watched Big Jake Motley walk off.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ralph Compton stood six foot eight without his boots. He worked as a musician, a radio announcer, a songwriter, and a newspaper columnist. His first novel, The Goodnight Trail, was a finalist for the Western Writers of America Medicine Pipe Bearer Award for best debut novel. He was the USA Today bestselling author of the Trail of the Gunfighter series, the Border Empire series, the Sundown Riders series, and the Trail Drive series, among others.
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