Bullets Don't Argue
Page 18
“What the hell happened to you?” Dick Hoover asked when he saw the bruises and cuts all over Floyd’s face and neck.
“I took the bullet outta the other fellow’s shoulder,” Floyd said, “and this is the way they paid me for it, this and eatin’ up all my supper.”
“Where is that camp?” Wheeler asked.
“Like I said, I don’t know, but I expect it’s on Oak Creek somewhere, north or south, I don’t know. They didn’t say. All he said was he wasn’t goin’ with them to Rooster’s, he was goin’ back to camp,” Floyd said. “Let me go back to my shop and get a razor and I’ll work on these two bastards till I find out.”
“Let’s haul them outta there and carry them into the jail,” Wheeler said. When Perley and Possum stepped forward to help, Wheeler said, “I didn’t know you fellows were gonna get involved this deep in the town’s problem. It’s not a very good way to welcome strangers who are interested in settling here. I know Sheriff Pylant was in town all day, so I reckon you fellows and Rooster are the ones who captured these two. I want to thank you for your help.”
“We didn’t catch ’em,” Rooster was quick to correct him. He pointed to Perley. “He done it all by hisself. All me and Possum did was help him haul ’em into town.”
“You did?” Wheeler asked. “All by yourself?” He took another look at the two men lying in the wagon, one of them the size of two men. “And you’re the fellow that shot the other one in the saloon, right?” Perley declined to answer, preferring not to advertise it. He had an idea that Wheeler might be looking to replace his sheriff. So, instead of responding to the question, Perley stepped forward and took hold of Coy’s boots.
Once the two prisoners were carried into the cell room, they were laid on the floor until an inspection was completed to make sure the cells were secure. They had been used only a few times to let drunks sleep it off and never really tested. Possum and Perley helped and found that the jail was more than adequate. Rooster commented to Perley that most folks knew there was nothing wrong with the jail, they just didn’t have a sheriff who could fill it. “When are you gonna untie us?” Coy grumbled. “You gonna keep us tied up all night?”
“Keep your shirt on,” Henry Lawrence responded. Turning back to Pylant, he continued their discussion on feeding the prisoners. “I suppose we’ll still honor our agreement we had when we built this jail. I’ll have my cook fix two meals a day for them. Ida ain’t gonna like it, but she’ll do it.”
Overhearing, Coy complained again. “You gotta untie us and get us some supper.”
“You’ve done had your supper, you big hog,” Floyd barked at him. “You ate all my beans.”
“Yeah, and they weren’t worth a crap,” Whit offered. “You can’t hold us in this damn jail. Neither one of us shot that young feller. The man who shot him has done gone from this place.”
“Maybe he pulled the trigger,” Henry Lawrence said, “but you were all part of it. My bartender told me the whole story, how you set that poor boy up so you could kill him. For no damn reason other than to entertain yourselves. Jimmy said Fred never reached for his gun and even told you he wasn’t gonna pull it, no matter what. No, you’re guilty all right, and you oughta hang for it.”
“It sounds to me like we’re wastin’ time talkin’ about sendin’ for the Rangers,” Horace Brooks said. “Henry’s right, we need a hangin’.” He looked at Wheeler. “If you’re so damn worried about havin’ a respectable town, then I say have a trial for this scum. Make up a jury. You can be the judge, then when the jury hears the evidence, we can hang ’em.” There was immediate agreement among those gathered there, so much so that Wheeler found it hard to argue and finally gave in. He insisted upon one stipulation, that an effort would be made to find a fair jury. It was decided then that they would interview possible jurors during the following two days, then the trial would be held in The Buffalo Hump. With the prisoners secure, most of the group retired to the saloon to continue the discussion of the events of the day, and possibly Bison Gap’s first serious step toward being a legitimate town. Perley, Tom, Possum, and Rooster headed back down the creek.
* * *
When the men returned to the cabin, they discovered that the women had been involved in a serious discussion of their own. In short, Emma had made up her mind that she was not interested in playing the role of the typical pioneer woman, cooking and cleaning, working in the fields, and having children. She decided that she had the money and the opportunity in this fledgling town to become part of the business of the town. And while the men were in town, she persuaded Rachael to join her in that endeavor. It was not an easy proposition to sell her sister on, for it was not generally the woman’s role to support the family. The woman’s place was in the home, subservient to her husband, especially to a girl raised in Butcher Bottom. But Rachael soon became quite excited about the possibility. A major obstacle, however, would most likely come in the form of Rachael’s husband. All Tom knew was farming, and it would remain to be seen how he would react to their grand plan.
Eager to hear what had taken place in town, both women and the girls ran out to meet the men when they heard the wagon coming down the path to the cabin. “They put ’em in the jailhouse!” Rooster called out before Tom pulled the wagon to a stop. He and Possum informed the women of the meeting of most of the town’s tradespeople in front of the jail while Perley pulled his saddle off his horse. A fresh pot of coffee was deemed necessary before the discussion was finished, which Rachael was happy to prepare. In summary, it was felt that the town had serious intent to grow strong and healthy. In view of that, Emma felt it the opportune time to inform them of her and Rachael’s decision to go into the hotel business. The initial reaction was one the women expected.
Tom was the first. “I swear, Rachael, we don’t know nothin’ about runnin’ a hotel.”
Emma answered for her sister. “What is there to learn? Folks comin’ to town need a place to sleep, so you rent ’em a room. It’s as simple as that.”
“Is that so?” Tom replied. “Maybe those folks might be hungry. Are you gonna feed ’em?”
“In the hotel dinin’ room,” Rachael answered. “That’s gonna be my job. I’m gonna be runnin’ the hotel dinin’ room.”
“Maybe you forgot you’ve got a family to take care of,” Tom insisted. “And you’re gonna be cookin’ for folks in the hotel?” He pointed a finger at the baby now in Emma’s arms. “What about little Daniel Seaton Slocum, Jr.? How you gonna run a hotel with a baby that ain’t even walkin’ yet?”
“I expect we’re gonna hire us a good cook,” Emma answered him. “Rachael’s gonna be too busy managing the dinin’ room to do the cookin’. And don’t you worry, I’ll take care of business and my baby, too, if I have to carry Danny around on my back like a papoose.”
“Well, what in the world would I be doin’?” Tom asked, frustrated to this point by what he considered an impossible undertaking. “I don’t know nothin’ about workin’ a hotel.”
Entertained by the debate, Rooster answered his question. “You’d be settin’ on the front porch, countin’ the money.” Everyone laughed but Tom.
Seeing his obvious concern about his position as head of the family, Rachael said, “You’ll be free to do what you want. Nobody’s better at workin’ the land, and a good hotel is gonna need to supply its own meat and vegetables.”
As the discussion continued long after the coffeepot was empty, Possum listened with increasing interest. Finally, after Alice and Melva had fallen asleep on a pallet Rooster laid in the corner for them, and the grown-ups were beginning to yawn, he made an announcement that injected new interest in the project. “Danged if I don’t believe you women mighta come up with a dandy idea.” He cocked his head and gave Emma a big smile. “The word might get around fast about a hotel run by two women and one of ’em totin’ a baby on her hip. If you’re lookin’ for a partner, I’ll throw my money in it, too.” That was enough to almost blow the roof off.
He shook her hand and gave her another wide grin. “I sure as hell don’t know nothin’ about runnin’ a hotel, so you’ll be the one makin’ the decisions.” He saw by her big smile that that was the way she preferred it. “We’ll go see Ralph Wheeler in the mornin’ and take a look at them plans he’s got for the buildin’.”
Perley was an interested spectator to the evening’s discussion and wasn’t surprised when Possum threw in with Emma on the financing. It was a good investment for a man like Possum with a small fortune he didn’t know what to do with. The two women were determined, and he, like Possum, felt they could make a successful go of it. If the venture was a success, it could provide a reasonable income for the partners, and that was probably all Possum was looking for.
* * *
About two miles south of Bison Gap, past the long turn in the creek, Shorty Thompson sat by the fire before the small tent he and his two partners used for a camp. It was late, well past midnight, and he had expected Coy and Whit back before then. He wouldn’t worry for some time yet, however. They might end up burning Rooster’s cabin to the ground, if they were unsuccessful in catching Rooster and his gunman friend, Perley Gates, outside and it became a standoff. He hoped they could save the cabin. It would be a helluva lot better camp than this old tent. He had thought about riding with them, but his shoulder was aching something fierce, and he didn’t like the idea of lying around somewhere in the dark, waiting for them to come out of the cabin.
He picked up a stick and poked around in the fire with it to keep the wood in the flame, and he thought about Perley Gates, and he wondered if he was really that fast. He tried to re-create the moment in his mind, and it seemed that was all it was, one moment. When Coy went head-on into that counter, he spun that fellow around. I went for my gun, and he pulled his and shot me before I raised mine to fire. “Maybe he already had his gun out before he spun around,” he muttered. “That musta been it, and he just got off a lucky shot, likely didn’t even know he squeezed the trigger.” He reached with his left hand to pull his .44 from his holster, then placed it in his right hand, testing the weight of it. It served to tell him that it was going to be some time before his shoulder would be healed to the point where he could use that arm again. “Perley Gates,” he announced to the fire before him. “If Coy and Whit don’t send you to hell tonight, you ain’t seen the last of me.”
* * *
He awoke with a start, started to push himself up, then exclaimed sharply when the pain in his shoulder reminded him of his wound. “Damn,” he muttered, realizing it was approaching daylight. Thinking his partners had just left him to sleep sitting by the fire, he rolled over on one hand and his knees, then holding his wounded arm up, did a three-legged crawl to the tent. “What the hell?” He wondered when he looked in to find no one there. He got to his feet and looked all around him. “Whit! Coy!” He shouted out, but there was no answer. Then he looked toward the creek and saw that their two horses were not there with his. They didn’t make it back! Not sure what to do, he remained standing in front of the tent for several long moments, looking all around him as if expecting to see them showing up. “It don’t mean they were ambushed or shot,” he said aloud. “Maybe they shot those two jaspers, and they stayed in the cabin all night. Those bastards, I bet that’s what they did.” That seemed a reasonable assumption, so he decided that was the case. “They stayed there and divided up everything they found between ’em, no doubt,” he snuffed. “Ain’t nothin’ to do but wait till they get back.” Satisfied they would show up when they were ready, he started to make himself some breakfast. “It ain’t so easy with just one hand,” he mumbled when he sliced some bacon to fry.
Morning faded into afternoon with still no sign of Whit and Coy. And when the afternoon wore on with still no appearance, he finally decided that things had not gone well last night, and they were not coming back. The question now was what to do. With one arm out of business, he needed his partners. There was no telling how long he would have to lay low, waiting for his shoulder to heal. It would help a helluva lot if he knew for sure if he was on his own or not. In the meantime, he thought, I’ve gotta be able to protect myself. So, after he had eaten some breakfast, he drew his .44 with his left hand and proceeded to take some target practice on a tree near the creek. “Not bad,” he said when he hit the tree somewhere with every shot. Clutching that little bit of confidence, he decided to go see if he could find out what happened to his partners. It took some time to saddle his horse, but after a great deal of frustration, he finally got it done.
His plan was to ride around the town and pick up the Oak Creek trail on the other side and follow it until he got to Rooster Crabb’s cabin. As he neared the town, however, his curiosity triggered a notion to take a look, just to see if anything was going on. If, for example, Coy and Whit had somehow managed to get themselves ambushed by Perley Gates, he might see their bodies on display like some towns were inclined to do. It was a practice that was supposed to discourage outlaws from breaking the law, but all it did was encourage outlaws not to get caught. There was plenty of cover in the trees on the south end of town, near the stable, so he figured he could get close enough to see down the street.
There was no one around the front of the stable, so he rode as close as he thought it safe, then dismounted and made his way to within thirty yards of it. As he had figured, he could see the length of the short street, as well as the jail and The Buffalo Hump across the creek. He was relieved when he failed to see two coffins propped up in front of any of the businesses. That didn’t mean his friends weren’t dead, but it was a positive sign. Now go to Rooster’s cabin, he thought. About to turn away, he paused when a horse whinnied in the corral next to the stable. He looked at the horse but shifted his gaze to another one when he realized it looked like the gray that Coy rode. If it was Coy’s, it would have an eight-inch scar on its left croup where a bullet had grazed it during a chase by a sheriff ’s posse. He stared at the horse until it finally turned its tail to him and he froze when he saw the scar. It is Coy’s horse! He then scanned the other horses, looking for Whit’s sorrel. It was not as easily distinguished as Coy’s, but he saw one that looked an awful lot like Whit’s. They’re in jail, he realized, knowing there was no other reason their horses would likely be in the corral.
“Well, I can’t go sashayin’ up to the jail and ask the sheriff if they’re in there,” he mumbled. He didn’t feel like he wanted to try it on his own with just one good arm. He needed Coy and Whit, so he decided to circle back and cross the creek. He could come up behind the jail and look at the back of it to see if he could get to a window and maybe pass a gun in to them. That didn’t seem too risky, so he decided to wait until dark to try.
CHAPTER 14
It was an interesting day for the citizens of Bison Gap. The seldom-used jail held two dangerous outlaws awaiting the town’s first trial by jury, and jury selection was already underway. In addition to that, rumor had circulated the little settlement that there might be a new hotel in the planning stages. And to make it even more interesting, rumor had it that two women were to be the proprietors. As for Emma and Possum, it was no longer a rumor. After their meeting with the mayor, they approved the plans he had already had drawn up for the building, and Henry Lawrence agreed to contact the carpenter who had built The Buffalo Hump.
The whole affair seemed the most unlikely thing to happen from Perley’s perspective. His brothers would find it hard to believe his simple gesture to escort a young widowed mother and a friend of her late husband could turn out to have such significance for the town of Bison Gap. On the other hand, they might not, since a lot of things Perley got involved in turned up the unexpected. Even now, when he had ridden with the man and woma
n to their destination, he was not free to return to the business of the Triple-G cattle ranch. Ready to bid farewell to Emma and Possum, he was persuaded to wait a couple of days more, this time by Ralph Wheeler and some of the other businessmen of the town. The reason was his role in the capture of Coy Dawkins and Whit Berry, making him a key witness in their trial. Reluctantly, he agreed to stay until the trial was settled. It was far too late to catch up with the cattle drive to Ogallala, anyway, so he wasn’t opposed to spending a couple more days in town.
When word got out around the county of the activity stirred up in Bison Gap, the little town saw a small influx of strangers. One such stranger was a tall, lean man named Eli Ballenger who rode into town on a dark Morgan horse in the early afternoon. He tied the Morgan at the hitching rail in front of the saloon and went in to have a drink. “Howdy,” Jimmy McGee greeted him when he walked up to the bar. “Whaddle it be?”
“I’ll have a glass of beer, if you’ve got it,” Ballenger replied, reaching in his vest pocket for a coin.
“Yes, sir,” Jimmy said. “I’ve got beer today, but if business keeps up like it has been, I won’t have any tomorrow.”
“Is that a fact? Well, I’ll drink it today, then,” Ballenger said with a chuckle. “Never been to Bison Gap before. Are you sayin’ it ain’t usually this busy?” Jimmy said that was the case, then proceeded to tell him why there were so many strangers in town. When he had finished, Ballenger asked him to tell him more about the new hotel.
“I hear it’s gonna be a first-class hotel,” Jimmy said.
“Gonna be run by two women, you say?”
“That’s a fact,” Jimmy answered. “There’s a feller who can tell you all about it.” He pointed to Possum, sitting at a side table, having a drink with Horace Brooks. “He came here with the two women who’re gonna run it.”