Ralph Compton the Evil Men Do

by Ralph Compton

  “All my askin’ finally paid off,” Tyree said. He’d done it in St. Louis. In Kansas City. In Denver. Now here in Cheyenne.

  “I’ll be honest, boy. I wasn’t going to tell you a damn thing,” Moses said. “But then I got a sign from heaven, as my ma used to say.”

  “An angel appeared to you in a dream?” Fred said.

  “Ain’t you funny?” Moses said. “No, it weren’t that kind of sign. I was at the other end of town, or the city, I should say, and I went into a general store for some chaw. I saw someone with an apron sweepin’ the floor, and it shocked me so much I turned around and walked back out.”

  “It must have been Dunn or Lute,” Fred guessed.

  “Sweepin’ a floor? What do you use for brains? They’d no more work at clerkin’ than they would herdin’ sheep. They kill for a livin’. That’s what they do.”

  “You saw Tucker,” Tyree realized.

  Moses nodded. “He looked a heap different. A lot of his hair is gone and what’s left is mostly gray. And he’s lost a lot of weight. But it was him. I’m as sure as anything.”

  “Dunn and Lute?” Tyree said. “Do you know where they are?”

  “How would I, boy?”

  “Tucker might,” Aces said.

  “If anyone does, it’d be him,” Moses said. “And for five hundred dollars I was going to take you over there personally and introduce you. But now you’ve spoiled that. Now you can go yourself. And you know what? I hope he doesn’t know. I hope he’s no help at all.”

  “That’s damn mean,” Tyree said.

  “What do you expect after your pard went and walloped me? I was going to play fair by you, as your pard likes to say, but now you both can go to hell. I want nothin’ more to do with you.”

  “I like that idea,” Aces said.

  “About us bein’ shed of him?” Tyree said.

  “About him introducin’ you to Tucker.”

  Moses sat up. “Didn’t you hear me? I’m not doing any such thing. You know all you need to. You’re on your own.”

  “How about you take us there right now?” Aces said.

  A flush spread from Moses’s chin to his hair. “You prod and you prod. I suppose if I don’t, you’ll pistol-whip me again.”

  “No,” Tyree said. “He won’t.”

  Both Aces and Moses said, “What?” at the same time.

  Tyree regarded the old outlaw a few moments. “I’m much obliged for what you’ve told me. To be honest, I’d about given up hope of ever learnin’ who was to blame. Like you say, comin’ across you was a godsend. I don’t blame you for being mad at us, what with us runnin’ you down and all.”

  “You don’t?” Moses said.

  “You say you had a ma and pa, and you left them to be on your own,” Tyree said in mild amazement. “I can’t imagine doing that. I’ve gone my whole life without any parents. To me, you turned your back on the two people who should have mattered the most. The two who brought you into the world. The two who fed you and put clothes on your back. So what if it was hard work? You were a family. Don’t you know how precious that was?”

  “Hell, boy,” Moses said.

  “So go your own way,” Tyree said. “I’d like for you to take me to this Tucker, but I won’t have my pard force it on you. And as soon as I make some bail money, I’ll pay you. Not the full five hundred. That’s too much and you know it. But I’ll pay you a hundred when I can, and that should make us even.”

  “You’d do that after I damn near choked you to death?”

  “I would,” Tyree said, not at all sure what was making him say it. By rights he should shoot the old goat.

  “Well, now,” Moses said, “if you can be that generous, so can I. I’ll take you to Tucker. Just don’t hold it against me later.”

  “Why would I?” Tyree said.

  “Because if Tucker does know where you can find Dunn and Lute, you’ll likely go after them and they will kill you dead.”

  Chapter 27

  Tyree was glad that Moses had come around to doing as he wanted. The old man wasn’t as coldhearted as he’d appeared.

  They made their way along the busy streets of Cheyenne, Tyree only a few steps behind Moses, Aces and Fred Hitch trailing after.

  Statehood had put most everyone in a festive mood. There was a lot of laughing and people whooping and hollering.

  When someone nudged his elbow, Tyree assumed it must be one of the people who hemmed him. Then Aces materialized, looking grim.

  “It’s a trick,” Aces said so only Tyree would hear.

  Distracted by all the commotion, Tyree said absently, “What is?”

  “Are you turnin’ into a simpleton? Moses is up to somethin’. Don’t let your guard down.”

  Tyree was all interest. “What makes you think so?” He’d pegged Moses as being sincere.

  “He did all he could to get away from us and wouldn’t cooperate until I threatened to shoot him.”

  Tyree shrugged. “He had a change of heart, is all.”

  “Not him. He’s a chip of flint inside. A lot of the old-timers are like that. They don’t back down, ever. And they sure don’t betray their friends.”

  “I don’t know as I agree.”

  “You want to believe him, fine. Just be careful. Fred and I have your back, but there’s no tellin’ what Moses will do.” Aces dropped back to be with the marshal.

  Tyree grew uneasy. His newfound pard was a good judge of character. If Aces said not to trust Moses, then he shouldn’t.

  But Moses sure was acting friendly. He looked at Tyree every now and again and gave a slight smile.

  They rounded a corner and started up another street. A particularly loud crowd filled it, and Tyree found himself completely surrounded. He lost sight of Moses. He tried to shoulder through those ahead of him, but they were slow to give way. “Let me by,” he said. Hardly anyone paid attention.

  Panic set in. Tyree rose onto the tips of his toes but couldn’t see Moses. He jumped up and down and still didn’t. He commenced to push and shove, and more than a few glares were thrown his way.

  “Watch what you’re doing, boy,” a burly man warned.

  “No pushing,” another snapped.

  Tyree ignored them. If he lost Moses, all the trouble he had gone to would be for nothing. All the years of going from city to city, all his time spent tracking down wanted men, all the hours of mingling with those on the wrong side of the law to ask if any had ever heard of his folks.

  A dandy in a suit and derby suddenly barred Tyree’s way. He sought to go around, but the wall of people prevented him. “Let me pass,” he hollered, but the dandy didn’t so much as look at him.

  Tyree was losing his temper. The celebration was no excuse for people to be rude. He attempted to squeeze between the dandy and another man and the dandy pushed him.

  “Watch what you’re doing, youngster.”

  “Out of my damn way,” Tyree bristled.

  The dandy was talking to a friend and smiling, but now he looked sharply at Tyree and lost the smile. “Don’t cuss at me, boy. And don’t tell me what to do.”

  “I’m tryin’ to get past.”

  “You’ll have to be patient,” the dandy said. “Everyone is moving as slow as turtles.”

  “Just move a little.”

  “Quit pestering me,” the dandy said, and turned back to his friend.

  Tyree placed his hands on his Colts, but just then Moses appeared in front of the dandy and wagged a finger in his face.

  “Let the kid past, consarn you.”

  “What are you, his grandpa?” the dandy said, but he moved enough that Tyree could move on.

  “I’m obliged,” Tyree said to Moses.

  The old man wheeled. “Keep up, boy. I’m doing this against my better judgment and I want to get i
t over with.”

  It continued to be slow going. Tyree chafed at the delay every step of the way. He distinctly recalled Moses saying that Tucker worked at a general store, so he was surprised when the old man veered toward the right side of the street and made as if to enter a saloon. He snatched Moses by the arm.

  “What are you doing? That’s not a general store.”

  “The store is farther on,” Moses said. “I don’t know if Tucker is workin’ today. When he’s not, this is where he comes.”

  Tyree was instantly suspicious. Moses had told them he didn’t talk to Tucker. He would have grabbed him and demanded to know what was really going on, but Moses pulled ahead and gained the batwings. “Hold on,” Tyree hollered.

  Moses pushed on in.

  “What is this?” Aces asked, suddenly at Tyree’s side. “He didn’t say anything about a saloon.”

  “I don’t know,” Tyree said.

  Fred was at his other elbow. “He gave in too easy. It has to be a trick.”

  “Or worse,” Aces said.

  Barreling in, they stopped and looked about. The place was almost as jammed as the street.

  “I don’t see him,” Marshal Hitch said.

  Neither did Tyree. Panic set in again and he bulled his way deeper in, not caring who he had to shove. He went clear across to the bar and there was no sign of Moses. “We’ve lost him!”

  Aces said, “What have I told you about losin’ your head? Moments like these are when you need to think clearly.”

  “Easy for you to say.”

  One of the bartenders came over and said to Aces and Fred, “What will it be, gents?”

  “Did you see an old man come in here?” the lawman asked.

  “You have to be joshing.”

  “It’s important.”

  “Do you want drinks or not?”

  Tyree was about to reach over and grab the barkeep by his apron, but a hand fell on his shoulder.

  Aces pointed toward the back.

  Tyree glimpsed someone going through a door. From the back it looked a lot like Moses. “Damn him anyhow.”

  Aces started to follow, but Tyree beat him to it, darting past and weaving like mad. The door was to a narrow hall. He ran down it, looking into the rooms he passed. One was a storeroom for the liquor. Another had a desk in it.

  The rear door hung partly open. Tyree burst outside and blinked in the glare of the sun. An alley ran in both directions. And there, running toward the far end, was Moses.

  “Stop!” Tyree cried.

  Moses glanced over his shoulder and grinned.

  Tyree took off after him. He heard Aces yell for him to wait, but he would be damned if he would. The old man had played them for fools. Moses must never have intended to help all along but had strung them like a fisherman playing out a fish line, waiting for an opportunity like this to slip away.

  Tyree felt a powerful impulse to shoot him. But no, that wouldn’t help them find Tucker. And it would bring the law down on their heads.

  So Tyree ran. He reached the end of the alley and was confronted by another river of people. A crate sat against a wall. Climbing onto it, he scanned the street.

  Moses was gone.

  Tyree’s frustration knew no bounds. To be so close, and to be thwarted. He sagged against the wall, momentarily crushed.

  “No sign of him?” Aces asked.

  Tyree bleakly shook his head.

  “He hoodwinked us,” Fred said, “and we fell for it.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Aces said.

  Tears of frustration filled Tyree’s eyes and he wiped them away with his sleeve. “I see him again, I’ll kill him.”

  “You should always let the other fella start it,” Aces said, “or you’ll be the one behind bars.”

  “I don’t care,” Tyree said. “Not with him.”

  “Don’t give up,” Aces said. “I suspect he wasn’t a complete liar.”

  Tyree would clutch at any straw. “How do you mean?”

  “He might have really seen Tucker workin’ at a general store,” Aces speculated. “We look for the nearest one, and if Tucker’s not there, go on to the next.”

  “That’s better than givin’ up,” Fred said.

  They retraced their steps down the alley into the saloon and out the front to the street. Aces assumed the lead. Tyree found that following his wake was a lot easier than following Moses. Aces only had to ask once for someone to move aside and he usually did.

  The entire city was in fine fettle. Statehood was the goal of every territory. It took years, and a lot of work. Wyoming would become the forty-fourth state, Tyree had heard tell. There had been a lot of talk about what to call it. A nickname of sorts. All the states had them. The newspaper said they should call Wyoming the Equality State on account of Wyoming being the first place in the country where women were granted the right to vote. Others wanted to call it the Cowboy State on account of all the ranches and the cattle trade. Tyree reckoned the Saloon State would be a great name since Wyoming had more saloons than anywhere he’d ever been. He was thinking of that when Aces abruptly angled to the left and motioned for them to catch up.

  AVERALL’S GENERAL MERCHANDISE, a large sign on a false front proclaimed. Under that was GOODS OF ALL KINDS. And under that was CASH ONLY.

  The place was doing brisk business, with people buying things for the celebration. A rake-thin man who must have been the owner and his young helper were kept busy answering questions and taking payment.

  Aces went down a side aisle and along a wall to a spot where they could watch the front counter.

  “What are we doing?” Tyree wanted to know. “Let’s go ask if Tucker works here.”

  “And risk him being warned that someone is lookin’ for him?” Aces shook his head. “Let’s wait and see if he’s around.”

  “He might be off for the day,” Fred said.

  “As busy as it is? Not likely,” Aces replied.

  Tyree hated waiting. He kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other and running his hands over the handles of his Colts.

  “You’re a bundle of nerves,” Aces remarked at one point.

  “Can’t help it,” Tyree said.

  “Don’t be discouraged,” Fred said. “If it’s not this store, it might be the next or the one after that. A city this size, there has to be quite a few.”

  “And we’ll check them all,” Aces said.

  They were trying to help, but that didn’t put Tyree at ease. It could be that Moses had lied about everything. There was no Tucker. There might not even be a Dunn and a Lute. It could be that Moses had killed his ma and pa. At that idea, Tyree burned under his collar.

  Just then another man in an apron came out of the back. He was carrying a lot of fireworks and took them to a display near the front window.

  “I’ll be damned,” Fred Hitch said.

  The man fit Moses’s description. He was old. A lot of his hair was gone. He set the fireworks down and began arranging them in the display.

  Tyree took a step, but Aces grabbed him by the shoulder.

  “Not yet.”

  “He’s right there,” Tyree said. To be so close and have to wait was more than he could bear. “Give me a good reason.”

  “He might take one look and bolt.”

  “Why should he?” Tyree argued. “He doesn’t know me from Adam. And he has no idea anyone is lookin’ for him.”

  “I have an idea,” Fred said. “You two stay put.” Plastering a smile on his face, he went over to the man working on the display.

  “He better not give us away,” Tyree said.

  “Give him more credit,” Aces said. “He’s not you.”

  Fred and the man talked a bit, but they couldn’t hear what was being said. Finally Fred said something that mad
e the other man laugh, and then came back around to where they waited.

  “Well?” Tyree said impatiently.

  “He says he likes brandy more than whiskey and he does his nightly drinkin’ at the very saloon we were at a while ago,” Fred related.

  “That’s what you talked about? Drinkin’?” Tyree could have hit him.

  “I mentioned how I was a drinkin’ man and new in town and asked him if there was a saloon he’d recommend.”

  “Smart,” Aces said.

  “Dumb,” Tyree said. “We don’t know if he’s Tucker or not.”

  “He says his name is Finch,” Fred revealed. “And when I asked where he’s from, guess what he told me?”

  “Missouri,” Aces said.

  Marshal Hitch smiled. “The very same.” He clapped Tyree on the arm. “I believe you have found your man.”

  Chapter 28

  It took Aces and Fred both to keep Tyree from barging on over. They each grabbed an arm and Aces moved in front of him.

  “Not here, pard.”

  “Why in hell not?” Tyree demanded. He was so close to at long last finding his parents’ killers.

  “Keep your voice down, you lunkhead,” Fred said.

  Tyree saw the man working on the display raise his head and idly look around, but he didn’t look in their direction.

  “Didn’t you learn anything from Moses?” Aces said. “If that’s Tucker, you can’t confront him here, with all these people around. We lay a finger on him, and someone is bound to holler for the law.”

  “True,” Fred said.

  “And even if he’s friendly and will talk to you,” Aces went on, “his boss ain’t about to let him stand around jawin’ when he should be workin’.”