Shot to Hell

by William W. Johnstone; J. A. Johnstone

  “Are you all right?” Bess asked. “You ain’t shot or nothin’, are you?”

  “Nope,” he answered and held his arms straight out and turned a complete circle before sitting down at the table.

  “Thank goodness for that,” Rachael said. “And thanks, Perley, I’m glad that damn snake is dead.”

  “Mama!” Alice scolded. “You’re not supposed to use those cusswords.”

  “You’re not supposed to listen so hard when grownups are talking,” her mother responded. “Now, eat your dinner and let Perley eat his.” Back to Perley then, she asked, “Do you think Ned Stark will send somebody looking for you?”

  “Can’t say,” Perley replied, but he was wondering if it would be better for him to move out of the hotel to keep any trouble away from there. He decided then. “If they start showin’ up, I’ll move outta here and get the word around town that I ain’t here anymore. Then maybe they won’t be botherin’ you folks.”

  “That might be a good idea,” Emma said, just entering the room from the door to the hotel. “I heard what happened and I’m glad you’re all right. I just got back from a meeting with the mayor and the sheriff.” She looked directly at him and said, “Perley, the sheriff and the mayor both agreed that it would be best if you left town. Sheriff Mason is convinced that there will be gunmen coming to look for you. And he and Ralph Wheeler are afraid for the safety of the people when the shooting starts.

  “What do you think, Emma?” Perley asked.

  She didn’t hesitate to answer. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I have to agree with Ralph and the sheriff. I can’t afford to have this hotel turned into the scene of a battle. I’ve worked too hard to get it to this point.”

  Both Rachael and Bess appeared to be truly shocked by Emma’s statement and turned to Perley at once. “I respect that decision,” Perley said. “I’ll get my things out of the room right away.” He paused, then asked, “Is it all right if I go ahead and finish eatin’? Things are pretty quiet in town right now.”

  Emma nodded. “I think that would be all right. Perley, I truly am sorry.”

  “I am, too,” Rachael said, “after all you’ve done for us. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”

  “Damn right,” Bess exclaimed. “Sorry, Alice.” She apologized for her language. “I’m worse than your mama.” Back to Perley then, she said, “Yes, sir, you finish your dinner. And then eat a big piece of that apple pie I baked. I reckon it ain’t for me to say, but it don’t make sense to me. We’re talkin’ about maybe a bunch of gunslingin’ outlaws coming to town and so we send the only man who stands a chance to protect us outta town. ’Scuse me if I think that’s the definition of crazy.”

  “It won’t take me long to finish up,” Perley said to Bess. “I understand why Emma has to feel that way. She’s got everything she has invested in this hotel. And I understand the mayor and the sheriff’s thinkin’, too. They figure, if they can convince Stark’s men that I left town, then maybe they won’t waste their time searchin’ for me and causing a lot of damage.”

  Emma returned to the hotel while Rachael and Bess sat at the table to keep him company while he ate. Kitty kept his coffee cup filled and Bess cut a huge slice of pie for him. “It’s gonna be hard to camp somewhere after this,” he said.

  “You oughta hear John Payne tellin’ about that shootin’.” Bess couldn’t help bringing it up. “He said it was so fast, you couldn’t see your hand movin’.”

  “Don’t pay any attention to that,” Perley said, not wanting to build a reputation. “I don’t know what Payne thinks he saw. The truth of the matter is, Curly was just slow, and he let his temper get in the way. That’ll slow you down.”

  “If you say so,” Bess responded, tongue in cheek.

  When he finished the last bite of apple pie and the last gulp of coffee, he said his good-byes and left to get his things out of the hotel, feeling like he would never have to eat again. There were things he would have to buy, since he was going to have to make a camp out of town somewhere. His first thought after getting kicked out of the hotel was to move in with Rooster. But now he was wondering if he should stay away from there for the same reason he was getting out of town. The picture in his mind of Rooster’s little cabin surrounded by a gang of angry gunmen was not one he would care to cause.

  When he left the hotel, his first stop was the stable to get some things out of his packs. He was going to need his camping gear. Then he would go to Wheeler’s store. He and Possum had used up most of the supplies on their trip from the Triple-G. His plan was to find a spot to set up a camp and after he got everything he needed from his packs, he’d leave the packhorse at the stable, so he wouldn’t have the worry of it. He told Horace Brooks of his situation and his intentions, and Horace offered to let him stay in the stable. “Then you’d be right here in town, so you’d know what was goin’ on,” Horace said.

  “I ’preciate the offer, Horace, but I wouldn’t want to put you in the same fix the hotel would have been in. I’ll tell you what, maybe if they come and search your stable and barn, then I might wanna take you up on that offer. I’ve got me a spot picked out that ain’t too far from town and that’ll do me for a while.” The spot he had in mind was halfway to Rooster’s cabin where a healthy stream emptied into Oak Creek.

  His final stop before leaving town was at Wheeler’s for some bacon, coffee, and hardtack. He figured, with the supplies he still had, he could make it a few days on that. “Did Emma talk to you?” Ralph asked.

  “She did,” Perley answered. “I’ve already moved out of the hotel.”

  Wheeler shook his head. “That was bad business, that gunslinger coming after you this morning. I talked to Sheriff Mason, and he told me what happened. Nobody here in town blames you for killing that man.”

  “They just want me to leave town, right?” Perley couldn’t resist remarking.

  “I don’t blame you for getting a little sore about it when none of this is your fault. You just happened to be standing where the lightning struck. But I’m sure you can understand you’re now a lightning rod for the town.” He watched Perley’s face for his reaction. “I hope you know there are no hard feelings on my part or the town’s part.”

  “Nope,” Perley said. “No hard feelin’s. I understand the problem you’re facin’, Mayor.”

  CHAPTER 7

  “Hellfire!” Eli Priest exclaimed. “Where the hell is he? He oughta been back by now.” He walked out the front door and stood on the little square porch, peering at the trail leading up to the house. After a few minutes, he came back inside. “That little town ain’t big enough for that jasper to hide in.”

  “Maybe ol’ Curly shot him and that sheriff threw him in jail,” Carl Leach suggested.

  “Hah,” Ned Stark grunted. “I got my doubts about that.” The only reason he could consider after this length of time was that Perley got Curly, instead of the other way around. Unless Perley Gates had left town, Curly should have found him, shot him, and been back here by now. He expressed as much to his gang. They had been sitting around this small ranch house for too long now. Every one of them was developing rough edges, and nobody had any money left from the last cattle sale to blow off some steam in town. “I reckon we’d best hit that herd down in Blanco County,” he said. “They oughta be just about ready. Soon as we finish this business in Bison Gap, we’ll get ridin’ again.”

  “I thought we were gonna wait till your cousin got here before we were goin’ after those cattle,” Jim Duncan said. “Ain’tcha gonna wait for him?”

  “I figured I would,” Stark replied, “but I thought he’d be here by now.” His cousin was supposed to be on his way to join them. He had been released from prison two weeks ago, and Stark figured he’d be there in a week. He wasn’t really surprised that he was late. He no doubt had a few things to take care of, like a horse and a weapon and anything else he needed. Stark almost chuckled when he thought of his cousin’s way of acquiring the things he ne
eded.

  “I want that money you promised for Perley Gates,” Slim Garrett said, breaking into Stark’s thoughts. “I think that lowlife nailed Curly, and that’s the reason he ain’t back here yet.”

  “How ’bout it, Ned?” Frank Deal spoke up. “One of us can go into town and find out what happened to him. Whoever goes in won’t get the hundred bucks if he sees Gates and shoots him. That’s fair, ain’t it? Then it’ll be open season on Gates tomorrow and everybody’ll have a chance to collect that money.”

  “That’s better’n settin’ around here waitin’ for Curly to come back,” Eli said.

  “All right,” Stark said. “Maybe that ain’t a bad idea. Slim, you ride on into that town and find Curly. Tell him, if he don’t find Perley Gates by tonight, he’s just gonna have to take his chances with the rest of you tomorrow.”

  “Hell,” Eli protested, “why Slim?”

  “’Cause he ain’t raised no hell in town for a while,” Ned answered. “And you broke out the front window of the saloon last time you went into town.”

  “How ’bout loanin’ me enough to buy a drink while I’m in there?” Slim asked Stark. “I swear, I’m flat broke.”

  “Then don’t go in the saloon,” Eli cracked. “We ain’t sendin’ you in there to get drunk.”

  “But if Curly’s waitin’ around for that jasper, he’ll most likely be in the saloon,” Slim insisted.

  “Well, maybe Curly will buy you a drink,” Junior Humphrey cracked, drawing a laugh from the others.

  “All right, here’s two bits,” Stark said. “Now get goin’.”

  “What about my supper?” Slim asked then. “I’ll miss my supper, and you hogs won’t save me any.”

  “I’ll send somebody else,” Stark said, knowing full well if he gave Slim money to buy supper, he’d spend it on whiskey.

  “Never mind,” Slim bellowed, “I’m goin’, I’m goin’.” And he hurried out the door.

  * * *

  “Where’s Perley?” Possum asked when he walked into the dining room for supper. He was alone, since Rooster had decided it best if he stayed home, instead of sleeping and eating at the hotel. He figured he was losing too much time for his chores.

  “He ain’t here,” Rachael answered him. “Emma said he had to get out.”

  “Get out? What are you talkin’ about?” Possum asked. “The hotel, the dinin’ room, what?”

  “There’s a lot happened here while you were at Rooster’s, so sit down and I’ll tell you.” She then told him everything that had taken place that day, starting with Curly Williams coming into town, looking for Perley, the shoot-out at the blacksmith shop, and Perley’s departure.

  “Damn,” Possum dragged out. “He shot Curly. . . I’ll be . . .” he started, then asked, “Where did he go?”

  “I don’t know,” Rachael said, already feeling sorry that she had not thought to ask. “I don’t think he knew where he was goin’. Emma’s eviction notice hit all of us kinda sudden-like.”

  Possum was beside himself. “I’ve gotta find him!” He looked frantically from Rachael to Bess, and back to Rachael again. “We’re partners. We came down here to try to help you folks. I’ve gotta find him!” No one had any idea where Perley had gone. Finally, Possum got up from the table and started for the door.

  “Where you goin’?” Rachael called after him. “Ain’t you gonna eat your supper?”

  “I ain’t hungry right now,” he yelled over his shoulder and went out the door. With no place else to look, he decided he would see if Perley was somewhere in town. Since he had already left his horse at the stable, he started walking down the street. He went in every door that was still open, asking if they had seen Perley. The answer was the same everywhere: no one had seen him. Possum went to the sheriff’s office on the chance Mason had locked him up. He hadn’t. He stopped dead still, startled when he got to Floyd Jenkins’s barbershop. There by the front door, stood an open casket. It contained the body of Curly Williams, a neat bullet hole in his forehead, another in the center of his chest. Possum was shocked to find it on display. Surely the sheriff and the mayor didn’t know it was there. Floyd must have been out of his mind to display the body. If that didn’t rile Ned Stark’s gang, nothing would. He hurried along to the blacksmith shop.

  Still a little shaken, he checked with John Payne and got a full retelling of the shooting, but like everyone else, Payne had no idea where Perley had gone. He didn’t even know he had left.

  The only two places left to check were the Buffalo Hump and the stable. The saloon was the closest, so he went in there first. He walked in to find a rather slow evening, even for this early hour. Jimmy McGee greeted him when he walked up to the bar. “Evenin’ Possum, what’s your pleasure?”

  “Nothin’ right now, Jimmy. I’m lookin’ for Perley. Has he been in here this evenin’?”

  “No, not so far,” Jimmy answered, “but it’s early yet.” He flashed a wide grin. “He sure took care of ol’ Curly Williams, didn’t he? I’da sure loved to have seen that, if it happened like John Payne says it did.”

  “None of the rest of that sorry crew been in tonight?” Possum asked.

  “Nope, nary a one, this afternoon or tonight. It sure has made things a lot more peaceful.” He paused, looking at the door, then said, “Until right now, here comes one of ’em in the door right after I said they hadn’t.”

  Possum turned to look. “You know him?”

  “He ain’t been in lately, but I think he’s the one called Slim.” Jimmy and Possum watched him as he stopped and looked all around the room before coming over to the bar. “What can I do for ya?” Jimmy asked.

  Slim threw his money on the bar. “Gimme a shot of corn likker,” he said. He tossed it back as soon as Jimmy poured it before saying, “I’m lookin’ for Curly Williams. Has he been in here today?”

  Jimmy gave Possum a wink and said, “He was in here first thing this mornin’, sat down right over there at that table to eat breakfast, but he got up and left before he finished it.” He didn’t tell him that Curly left because the sheriff came in and told him Perley was at the blacksmith shop. “And he ain’t been back,” Jimmy went on. “Did you look up by the barbershop? Somebody said they thought they saw him there.”

  “The barbershop?” Slim asked, wondering what Curly would be doing there. “The barbershop ain’t open this late, is it?”

  “Not usually,” Jimmy said and let it go at that when it suddenly struck him that, no matter how harmless the skinny little man looked, he rode with a mean bunch. And their idea of amusement would be the gutting of a smart-ass bartender.

  Possum decided to end the mystery for him. “Curly Williams is dead, Mister. If you need proof, his body’s in front of the barbershop. He came into town with the idea he was gonna kill somebody. And you and your friends need to know that’s what’s gonna happen to any other outlaws that come in this town lookin’ to kill somebody.”

  Slim’s eyes opened wide in shock, and he backed away from the bar. Possum was afraid for a moment that he was going to draw his weapon, but he suddenly spun around and made for the door. When he had gone, Jimmy gasped, “Are you crazy? I hope to hell none of his friends are outside waiting for him. After what you just told him, there ain’t no tellin’ what Ned Stark will do.”

  “Lost my temper there for a minute, I reckon. It don’t make no difference, though, does it?” Possum answered him. “Whether they find out tonight or in the mornin’. There’s gonna be hell to pay, no matter when they find out.” He left the saloon then and walked across the bridge, heading toward the stable.

  “I’ll be right there,” Horace Brooks yelled back when he heard someone calling his name. He put his pitchfork aside and walked to the front of the stable. “Howdy, Possum, forget somethin’?” he asked, when he saw who it was, back after having just left his horse a short while before. The look of concern on Possum’s face prompted him to ask. “You lookin’ for Perley? ’Cause, if you are, he ain’t here.”
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  “Do you know where he is?” Possum asked.

  “For a fact, I don’t,” Horace replied. “He was here, but that was a couple hours ago, maybe more. He said Emma kicked him outta the hotel, so he picked up some stuff from his packs and left. I asked him where he was goin’, but he said he wasn’t sure.” He paused then to watch Possum’s obviously worried reaction. “I offered to let him stay here in the stable with his horse, and he said he might take me up on that after he gives Ned Stark’s boys time to search the place. Like I said, though, he took some supplies, so I reckon he’s fixin’ to take to the woods.”

  Or Rooster’s place, Possum thought. Hell, I just came from there. I woulda passed him on the way. He shook his head, amazed that Horace hadn’t told him all that when he was just there. He must have thought I knew. He knew he was going to have to go back to make sure, so he told Horace he was going to have to saddle his horse again and go back to Rooster’s.

  “Are you gonna be back tonight?” Horace asked, thinking he would be locked up by the time Possum rode to Rooster’s and back.

  “No,” Possum answered. “I’ll just stay with Rooster tonight.” He walked back to pick up his saddle while Horace fetched his horse.

  * * *

  “That’s far enough!” Rooster warned the rider approaching his cabin. “You’d best state your business here.”

  Possum pulled his horse up short. “Rooster, it’s me, Possum! Where the hell are you?” He peered at the little porch, but in the darkness, he could not see him.

  “Over here by the fence,” Rooster answered as he walked out of the small corn patch near the side of the cabin. “I was fixin’ to blow your head off, if you hadn’t said who you was,” he said, holding an ear of corn in each hand, pointed at Possum like a pair of pistols. “Whadda you doin’ back here? You get to missin’ me, already? Or did Emma throw you outta the hotel?”

  “No, but she threw Perley outta the hotel,” Possum answered, “and I ain’t been able to find him nowhere. I was hopin’ I’d find him out here.”