Ralph Compton Straight to the Noose

by Marcus Galloway

  “How did Greeley get his hands on the boat?” Mason asked.

  Allison shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. I’m just glad to be able to see the water when I sit on my porch instead of having to look at the side of that monster of a boat. I’m sick of all boats, actually. The folks who bought horses and carriages were good, honest people. Most of everyone who wanted one of those boats was either a gambler or a smuggler.”

  “Or both, most likely,” Mason said.

  “Yes,” she replied with a shy smile.

  Once again, Seth pounded his fist on the table. The sound would have been more jarring if he’d had more muscle behind it. “Selling boats put food on our table, young lady!”

  “I know, Papa, you’ve told us that for years.”

  “Then why do you keep forgetting it?”

  “I hate to interrupt,” Mason interrupted, “but there really is the matter of a kidnapping here.”

  “What? Oh, right,” Seth said. “Why can’t you just leave here without kidnapping anyone?”

  Before Mason could open the same can of worms he’d already emptied in his discussion with Maggie, Allison said, “Because if Greeley wants to do us harm and this man doesn’t do it, he could very well hire someone else to do it.”

  “Well, if he wants a shot at Oscar Lazenby any time soon, he’d have to find a replacement pretty damn quick,” Seth grumbled.

  “What was that?” Mason asked.

  Seth furrowed his brow and looked at Mason as if the gambler had just sprouted horns. “Lazenby is here.”

  Pointing to the floor beneath his feet, Mason asked, “Here?”

  Allison shook her head. “Not here as in this house or this land. He’s not on this land, is he, Papa?”

  “No, don’t be silly,” Seth said. “This is the time of month when Oscar comes around to inspect river merchants and tradesmen and otherwise bother good, honest men looking to ply an honest trade on the muddy banks of the beautiful Mississippi.”

  “Where can he be found?” Mason asked.

  “There’s a government office about three miles northwest of here,” Seth replied. “Take the road that goes past my front door and follow the stench of bureaucracy.”

  When Mason looked over to her, Allison nodded. “It’s about three miles away,” she said. “There’s no stench.”

  “If Greeley’s after Lazenby,” Seth said, “I can tell you what he wants.”

  “Yes?”

  “When I was working on getting the Allie Girl ready to become the finest craft in the river,” the old man said fondly, “that stinkin’ bureaucrat went on and on about his permits and licenses and fees . . .”

  Mason let out a tired sigh. “So you’ve mentioned,” he groaned as he let his head hang forward.

  “And,” Seth said as he raised a finger as if he were instructing an orchestra to hold a high note, “he couldn’t stop talking about corruption in organized gambling.”

  Grateful to be back on track, Mason leaned forward to try to keep the old man from drifting into another rant. “What did he have to say on the subject of corruption, Mr. Borden?”

  “That there was plenty of it among the men who run games on riverboats. That outlaws and thieves couldn’t be allowed to have free rein in such a lucrative and far-reaching marketplace like the Mississippi River. That such a thing would be like a cancer where common card cheats might grow into . . . into . . .”

  “A disease,” Allison said.

  Seth snapped his fingers. “Yes! That’s what he called them. A disease.”

  “What did he intend to do about it?” Mason asked.

  “What any government pea brain would do. Make his inspections, thump his damn law books, levy his fines.”

  “Make arrests?”

  Seth scowled and then shrugged. “I suppose so.”

  Mason felt a chill work through his body as all the pieces fell together. Judging by the look on Allison’s face, even if she didn’t have as many pieces as he did, she saw enough to get awfully nervous.

  Chapter 34

  Allison excused herself from the table to get some more water. Mason stood up to join her under the auspices of getting a breath of fresh air, and Seth didn’t have a problem with it. The old-timer warned he would be watching through the kitchen window with shotgun at the ready, which was just fine with both of them. Outside, Allison took the pitcher to a pump and started working the handle.

  “You’re going to snap that off if you keep it up,” Mason pointed out.

  That didn’t convince her to ease off in the least. “He’s trouble,” she said. “I always knew that.”

  “Who are you talking about? Greeley?”

  “Greeley, Oscar Lazenby, my father, take your pick. Why can’t they all just enjoy what they have and be done with it? Why do they all want more? It’s not like they need it. I mean, how much money does a person need? We’re not rich, but we’re comfortable. There are some men who don’t live far from here who are much better off and they seem just as comfortable. When is anyone just going to slow down and live instead of spending every waking moment grabbing for more?”

  Mason stuck his hands in his pockets, looked over to the kitchen window, and nodded at the armed man staring back at him. “Money keeps the wheels greased and turning. Always will, I believe.”

  “Why would I expect you to understand?” she sighed. “You’re a gunman.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m a sporting man.”

  “Right. And that’s so much better.”

  “Pardon me, ma’am, but I’m not the one who started any of this,” Mason pointed out. “I am trying to fix it, however, and there isn’t a lot of time to do that.”

  “I suppose there are real gunmen on their way so they can turn this house into a battlefield?”

  “They’d be coming either way, as you already explained to your father in there. Considering the fact that Oscar Lazenby is only here a short time, I’d have to imagine the timing of a visit to this place from someone or other would also have been the same. At least I came to warn you and have a talk instead of kicking your door down and taking prisoners.”

  The pitcher in Allison’s hand had overflowed several seconds ago, but she just now seemed to notice. She poured a little bit out, set it down on the step leading to the kitchen door, and dried her wet hands. “You’re right. It’s just that I don’t . . . not that I’m not . . . it’s just . . .”

  Mason smiled at her. “You don’t know if you can trust me. Part of you wants to, but the other part is nervous that your father and his shotgun are in there instead of out here.”

  Suddenly Allison’s hands appeared to have frozen in place. When she was able to move them again, she said, “Yes. That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

  “It’s a miracle.” Mason tugged his lapel in what he thought was a very stately manner. “I am quite the wonder.”

  “Or a lucky guesser.”

  He dropped the stately act and said, “You’re a very nice woman and that just seemed to be something you might be thinking, which you would also have trouble saying to a man’s face. Also . . . why would you trust a complete stranger who brings such peculiar news?”

  She winced, looked to the kitchen window, and showed Seth a very tired smile. “When he decided to sell off a perfectly good stable and carriage shop for that riverboat, I thought about putting him in an asylum. Soon the rats came out of the woodwork, asking for any number of favors from him. They were looking for money, offering bribes, trying to set up their games in the boat’s casino, demanding percentages from my father’s profits. It was a nightmare.”

  “Sounds like it.”

  “And after I thought it was over . . . here it comes again.”

  “As a duly appointed representative of that nightmare,” Mason said, “I sincerely apologize.”

  �
��Thank you. At least someone doesn’t think that riverboat was the best thing that’s ever come along.”

  Mason removed a handkerchief from his breast pocket, took it to the pump, and dampened it. He then handed it over to Allison. “I believe we can put an end to this business with Greeley.”

  She took the handkerchief and used it to dab at her brow. “Do you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will it be ended quietly and without anyone getting hurt?” she asked.

  Wincing, Mason said, “My intention was to do my best to—”

  “That means no,” she snapped. “After living with my father for this long, I know mindless double talk when I hear it.” Allison glanced toward the house like a little girl who was afraid of being caught with a boy in the hayloft. Lowering her voice, she said, “He’s really not crazy.”

  “I don’t believe I was the one who mentioned putting him in an asylum,” Mason said.

  Grinning sheepishly, Allison handed back the handkerchief and said, “You seem like a good person, Mr. Mason, and I appreciate you trying to fix this instead of blindly following Greeley’s orders. Do you know my mother is in a bed upstairs and can’t be moved?”

  “No.”

  “Of course you don’t,” she said quickly. “Why would you? She is, though. That’s why I can’t have anything like this happen here.”

  “I suppose you already know what I have in mind?”

  “Whatever it is, it’s not likely to end up good for us and it could go especially bad for a woman who is too sick to stand up or get out of this house if need be. After all, that is the way men like Greeley and you deal with things, isn’t it?”

  On one hand, Mason wanted to flatly deny he was the sort to deal with anything in a way that might get the wrong people hurt. On the other, he had to remind himself that there was a whole mess of guns and a knife inside that had been brought to that house on his person. While he struggled to pick the right words, Allison jumped right back in with some of her own.

  “The road you want is right there,” she said while pointing to a wide path that dipped in close to the house before angling back out again. “Follow it for those few miles that we told you about and that’s where you’ll find Oscar Lazenby’s office. Give him our regards and that’s that.”

  “No,” Mason said, “it isn’t. Now, I’ve been polite so far because I could use your help, but we’re only going to get one chance at making a move against Cam Greeley.”

  “You’re the one making a move,” she said. “My family and I are simply out here living our lives.”

  “This feud or whatever you want to call it involving Greeley, your father, and whoever else was going before I knew anything about it. Come to think of it, I’m the one who’s being trampled by this whole thing and I didn’t have anything at all to do with it.”

  Allison stepped up to him and stared defiantly into his eyes. “And what is it you want me to do about it?”

  “I’d appreciate some modicum of courtesy or possibly a hint of gratitude for being the one to deliver you out of this mess instead of delivering you into the waiting arms of Cam Greeley.”

  “So you keep reminding me!”

  “Only because you don’t seem to remember it,” Mason fired back.

  “I’ll tell you what I do remember,” Allison said. “This land belongs to me and my family and we would be well within our rights to shoot anyone caught trespassing on it! We posted a sign if you’d bother reading it.”

  Mason laughed. “You posted a sign? Then why don’t I just go back to my own business and we’ll see how your next visitors feel about your sign?”

  The kitchen door swung open and Seth came out with shotgun in hand. “There a problem here?” he asked.

  “No, Papa,” Allison said. “Go back inside.”

  “Looked to me like you two were having words.”

  Mason did his best to keep his voice level when he said, “It was just a misunderstanding. That’s all.”

  Keeping his eyes on his daughter, Seth asked, “That all it was?”

  Allison rubbed her water-cooled hands against her temples before nodding. “Yes. That’s all it was.”

  “Even so,” Seth said as he fixed his eyes upon Mason, “perhaps you’d best leave before we have ourselves another misunderstanding.”

  “Fine,” Mason snapped. “If you want me to go, I’ll go.”

  “You do that.”

  “Have it your way,” Mason said in exasperation. “When Greeley and his men come calling, you can ask them what they want. I just hope you’ve got it.”

  “I can tell you what Greeley wants,” Seth said.

  Both Mason and Allison looked at him, half expecting some tirade or other bit of nonsense to come out of his mouth. “What is it?” Mason asked.

  “The original ownership papers for the Allie Girl.”

  “You’ve got those?” Allison asked.

  The old man nodded. “Why the hell do you think I keep calling it my boat?”

  Chapter 35

  “It looks legal to me,” Mason said as he flipped through the papers that Seth had brought him.

  The three of them were sitting at the dining room table once again. Only this time, they were on the same side so they could all get a look at those papers.

  “Do you even know what you’re looking at?” Allison asked.

  Mason held up each page so he could examine them up close. “I’ve been in more than a few card games where a man has nothing left to bet besides deeds to some piece of land, a mining claim, or any number of things that require legal documents. While I’m no lawyer, let’s just say it’s in my best interest to be able to spot a forgery. This seal, the stamps here by the signatures, it all looks proper to me.”

  “Of course it’s proper!” Seth barked. “I said it was, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, but . . .” Instead of insulting his host, Mason stopped short and pretended to have his interest captured by some speck on the page in front of him.

  Allison, on the other hand, wasn’t as concerned about putting the old man’s nose out of joint. “You say a lot of things, Papa,” she said to Seth while rubbing his arm.

  “I suppose so,” Seth replied. “But I’d like to hear what Greeley has to say when he gets called out by Lazenby.”

  “Called out for what?” Allison asked.

  “He must have been dodging inspections somehow or other if that boat is still on the water with him as its owner,” the old man said. “There’s no shortage of crooked government men, to be certain, but if what this fella here says is true, then Greeley’s got to be nearby. Lazenby is here also and he’s been on a real tear!”

  Mason looked up from the ownership papers. “How so?”

  “Oscar Lazenby’s been like a man possessed,” Seth said. “I still talk to plenty of men who used to do business with me when I was selling boats and such, and they’ve been grousing to high heaven about that man and the bureau that pays him. Business ain’t like it used to be when a man could get away with an infraction or two here or there. Now boats are all getting inspected and heavy fines are being levied.”

  “It’s true,” Allison said. “Over the last week, I’ve seen boats forced to drop anchor for hours or even days while they’re inspected. Their captain or some of the crew come here because we’re still friendly with a lot of those men.”

  “And they say things with Lazenby have gotten bad?” Mason asked.

  “Sounds to me like the man’s just doing his job, but—”

  “But nothin’!” Seth said. “Free trade is what this country was built upon, and nobody owns the damn river!”

  “I think some men in Washington would have something to say about that, Papa.”

  “And I think I know exactly what’s been going on here!” Mason said. “I’ve been thinking it over, but sti
ll had some kinks to iron out. Now it all makes sense. Allison, where’s your mother?”

  “She’s upstairs in bed.”

  “Can she be moved?”

  “No one’s moving my wife!” Seth bellowed.

  Calming her father with a touch from a gentle hand, Allison told Mason, “She’s too sick to go anywhere.”

  “Then what about the room she’s in?” Mason asked. “Can the door be locked so the two of you can remain safe inside?”

  Allison nodded.

  Scowling at Mason, Seth said, “I don’t want no bloodshed in my home.”

  “I know, sir, and it wasn’t my intention to bring any trouble to you. That may be unavoidable, though.”

  “Papa, if there’s to be trouble anyway, I’d rather take a stand here than just wait for the next man to come along. We both knew Greeley would come back someday.”

  Seth’s face twisted into a distasteful grimace. “You feed a mangy dog once and it’ll always come skulking back around for scraps. I just don’t like the notion of making a stand so close to my kin.”

  “That’s why I’d hoped to move the women from here,” Mason said. “Is there anyone else in the house besides the four of us?”

  “No.”

  “Then it seems this is how . . . Wait. What about the house next door?”

  “That’s where I used to run my businesses,” Seth said. “Ain’t had much use for it lately.”

  “That’ll be the spot, then.”

  “How do you plan on getting Greeley or anyone else to show up there?” Allison asked.

  “Greeley is after something, and this,” Mason said while holding up the ownership papers, “has got to be it. He won’t be happy about it, but he’ll come if it means getting what he wants.”

  “I don’t give a damn about whether that thieving snake is happy about anything,” Seth said. “But if he’s got gunmen working for him, he’ll probably bring them along.”

  “Which is why you’re going to go to Oscar Lazenby and bring him here,” Mason said. “He’s probably got some deputies or someone like that working with him, right?”