“I should have never told you her name,” Pearlie said. “Damn, Cal, you are being insufferable.”
Sally smiled, and applauded, lightly. “Insufferable is it? My, Pearlie, that’s a great word! ‘Damn,’ not so good a word, but I applaud you for the proper use of ‘insufferable,’ for indeed, on this subject at least,” Sally cast a disapproving look toward Cal, “I agree with you. Cal is being most insufferable.”
“Gee, Miss Sally, you really know how to hurt a guy,” Cal said, though the smile on his face and the way in which he spoke let it be known that he was not really offended by Sally’s remark.
As they waited for the coach to leave, Smoke stepped outside for a moment. That was when he saw, and heard, the exchange between the driver and another man.
“There’s ten thousand dollars in the pouch,” the man said. “You’ll be met at the Audubon stage depot by Mister Charles Montgomery from the Bank of Audubon. Do you know him on sight?”
“Yes, I’ve taken money shipments to him before,” the driver replied
“We have very strict instructions in regard to handling this money. Don’t give the pouch to anyone but Charles Montgomery.”
“I won’t,” the driver said.
Still unnoticed, Smoke watched the banker walk away as the driver climbed up onto the coach to stick the pouch under the seat.
“You got Harry on this trip, Mr. Parsons,” one of the hostlers called up to the driver.
“Where did you put ’im?”
“He is in the first row offside, just like you said.”
“Good. Ole Harry’s got it in mind that he’s a lead horse, ’n that’s about the only place you can handle ’im.”
“Have a good trip,” the hostler said as he headed for the barn.
The driver climbed down then walked around the coach, grabbing hold of each wheel and trying to move it back and forth, checking the security of their attachment. Then he checked the doubletree, as well as the attachment of each of the horses.
Smoke felt a sense of appreciation for the driver’s professionalism as he watched Mr. Parsons make a thorough pre-trip inspection of team and coach. Finally, satisfied that all was in order, Parsons stepped back to the depot itself.
“You folks inside!” Parsons shouted. “If you’re goin’ with me you better get out here now, ’cause I don’t have no intention of a-waitin’ on you.”
At the driver’s call, Sally and the others came out of the depot and boarded the coach. Because the coach could carry six, twelve when the center seats were used, and there were only the four of them, there was enough room for them to ride without being crowded.
“Hey, do we stop anywhere between here and Audubon?” Cal asked.
“No, why?” Smoke replied.
“’Cause if we don’t, than that’ll mean we won’t be taking on any more passengers. And look at this,” Cal said, turning so he could spread his legs out on the seat between him and Pearlie. “A fella could really get comfortable in here.”
“Cal, you really are puerile,” Pearlie said.
“Puerile,” Sally said. “Another good word. I’m quite impressed.”
“He’s just showing off,” Cal said. “You might say that he’s being a bit supercilious.”
“Sally, you should never have given them that thesaurus, I’m afraid we’ll never hear the end of their attempts to impress us with big words,” Smoke said with a little chuckle.
“Well, I, for one, am proud of them,” Sally said.
“By the way, just so you know, I think we should keep a sharp eye open, during this trip,” Smoke added.
“Oh? Why? Keep a sharp eye open for what?” Pearlie asked.
Smoke told the others what he had overheard about the money shipment.
“That’s a lot of money to be sending by stagecoach,” Pearlie said.
“Other than by a special courier, stagecoach is the only way to send money to a place like Weatherford,” Smoke said. “And couriers attract more attention than a stagecoach.”
“That might be so,” Pearlie agreed. “But it seems to me like ten thousand dollars is enough to make a very tempting prize, no matter how it is being shipped.”
“Smoke is right,” Cal said. “We had better keep a sharp eye out, until we get there.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Ed Slater was afoot on the Ft. Worth road, still some distance from Weatherford. He had no idea how far he had come, but his feet were sore from the long walk, and he was hurting from the bruises he had sustained when he was thrown from the train. He didn’t even hear the lone rider until he was right upon him.
“Mister, what are you doin’ afoot out here, a long way from nowhere?” the rider asked.
“I fell off the train,” Slater said.
“How in the world did you fall from a train?”
“I stepped out onto the platform to have a smoke because I didn’t want to bother any of the ladies in the car. The train hit a bump, and I was thrown off.”
“You were fortunate that the car didn’t run over you, but it was very gentlemanly of you to look out for the ladies as you did.”
“What’s the next town?” Slater asked.
“Parker, it’s about three miles down the road.”
“I’ll give you ten dollars to carry me double into town.”
“Are you serious? Ten dollars, just to carry you three miles?”
“It may as well be three hundred miles,” Slater replied. “I’m about wore out.”
“Yes, sir, bless your soul, I can see that you are. I tell you what, Mister, I can’t take ten dollars from you for just carryin’ you three miles. The Christian thing of me to do would be to take you for nothing. But, if you would make it a dollar, I could buy some candy for my kids. They don’t get a lot of nice things, and this would be a happy surprise for them. I’ve got three of ’em now, ’n a fourth one on the way,” he said, proudly.
“All right, here’s a dollar,” Slater said as he produced the bill.
The rider took the dollar and smiled. “Ha! I can not only buy the kids some candy, I can even buy the wife something without her feeling guilty about it. By the way, my name is Morgan. Brother Morgan some call me, because I’m a part-time preacher at the Brotherhood Assembly Church. What would your name be?”
“Slater.”
“Well, Mr. Slater, climb up here and take a load off your feet,” he suggested as he reached his hand down toward Slater.
With the assistance offered by Morgan, Slater climbed up behind him. As soon as he was astraddle of the horse he pulled his pistol and stuck it in the preacher’s back.
“What? What are you doing?” Morgan asked, the break in his voice showing his fear.
Slater pulled the trigger.
Morgan fell from the horse and lay facedown on the ground, moaning.
Slater dismounted and looked down at him.
‘”Why? Why did you shoot me?” Morgan asked.
“I don’t like to ride double,” Slater said. He fired again, this time shooting the wounded man in the head. Then he retrieved his dollar bill and searched the body for more money, finding another two dollars.
“Two dollars? Damn, you really was a poor sumbitch. You must not of been all that good of a preachin’ man.”
Slater pulled the body off the road and pushed it over into a depression so that it wouldn’t be seen unless someone was actually standing over it.
Morgan had told him that the town of Parker was only three miles away, but Slater figured why stop in Parker, when he could ride all the way to Weatherford?
* * *
Through his recruiting effort, Clete Lanagan had managed to gather twelve men for his gang. There was a negative side to having so many men to be responsible for, for he had to find ways to support such a large number. On the other hand he now had enough men to allow him to do just about anything he wanted to do in Parker County, or even the adjoining counties such as Pinto, Wise, Jack, and Denton.
In ord
er to keep the men happy he had to maintain a steady source of income and so far he had managed to do that, by robbing a store here, or rustling a few cattle there. Except for robbing the bank in Salcedo, which he had done when there were only four of them, he had not yet made a significant score. But a few days ago he had received a letter from his cousin telling him about an opportunity that seemed promising. Lanagan had kept the information to himself until the day the money was scheduled to be transferred. Not until today did he share it with the others.
“Ten thousand dollars,” Lanagan said.
“How do you know the coach is carryin’ that much?” Chaney asked.
“Somebody told me.”
“Who told you?”
“You don’t need to know. Let’s just say that it’s somebody who knows what he is talking about.”
“How do you know you can trust him?” Chaney asked.
“He’s somebody that I have knowed for a long time. If he tells me there’s ten thousand dollars comin’ in on this stage, then you can take it to the bank.”
Lanagan laughed. “Take it to the bank. That’s funny, seein’ as this money is goin’ to the bank, ’n we’ll be stoppin’ it from goin’.”
“This feller that told you about the money, will he be gettin’ anythin’ from it?”
“He gets a thousand dollars, once we get the money.”
“A thousand dollars?” Chaney said. “Ain’t that a awful lot of money for someone that ain’t takin’ the same chance as the rest of us?”
“He’s a good source of information,” Lanagan said. “He knows ever’ thing that’s goin’ on, ’n there don’t nobody suspect him of doin’ nothin’ wrong. I expect that, over time, he’ll be a-bringin’ us a lot of tips like this.”
“All right, you’re the boss. How are we going to do this?” Chaney asked.
“To begin with, for this job, I don’t intend to use no more ’n six men.”
“Why six?” Claymore asked.
“Any more than six men would make it difficult to handle, but with as many as six, it’s likely that once we kill the shotgun guard, there won’t be nobody who happens to be on the stage that’ll get any notions to do anything about it. And as long as we have the edge in any confrontation, we’ll come out ahead.”
Lanagan chose the men he wanted to ride with him, purposely choosing only the newer men.
“Hold it, Lanagan, that ain’t right,” Chaney said.
“We ain’t pulled a good job yet, ’n now that we finally get one, you’re only goin’ to use six men? Why are you usin’ these here new fellers to do the job instead of the ones of us that’s been here the longest? This way all the money’s goin’ to wind up with just you ’n them six, ’n that’ll leave the rest of us plumb out of it.”
Lanagan shook his head. “No it won’t. From now on no matter who it is that actually pulls the job, the rest of us is goin’ to share ’n share alike, just like as if we was all there when the job is done. Besides which, just look at it this a-way. You ’n the others won’t be goin’ out this time, which means that those of you who don’t go, ain’t a-goin’ to be in no danger with this job. But that won’t matter none, on account of you’ll be gettin’ your share of the money anyway, just like as if you’d stood up the stagecoach with us.”
“Yeah, well, what about Slater? I mean, bein’ as he ain’t even back from Ft. Worth yet, it don’t look to me like he ought to get a share.”
“If we’re goin’ to share, ’n share alike, seems to me like Slater ought to get his share too, seein’ as he’s one of us now,” McCoy said.
“Yeah, maybe that would be so iffen he had ever rid with us before. But the thing is, he ain’t even done one job with us yet. So I don’t think he ought to get nothin’,” Chaney said.
“If he is one of us, he’ll get his share just like the rest of us,” Claymore said. “Ain’t that right, Clete?”
“Yes, that is how it will be,” Lanagan replied. “Put yourselves in Slater’s shoes. If you was the one that was gone right now, wouldn’t you want us to look out for you?”
“Yeah, well, it don’t seem right to me,” Chaney said.
“Them’s my rules,” Lanagan said. “If you don’t like ’em, you can leave.”
“No, no, you’re the one in charge, so if it’s your rules, then that’s the way it’ll be,” Chaney said.
Lanagan nodded, then turned to the men he had chosen to ride with him. “All right, men, let’s go,” he said.
“Where we plannin’ on hittin’ ’em?” Emile Gates asked. Gates was one of the newest of Lanagan’s recruits, having recently left Weatherford.
“There’s a place on the road where it makes a curve, ’n right in the curve is a hill that hides the road. I’ll put someone up on the hill so’s he can look out for the coach as it approaches,” Lanagan said.
“Hey, Smitty, what are you goin’ to do with the money?” Collins asked as the men rode out to wait for the stage.
“Why, I’m goin’ to spend it,” Smitty replied.
“What are you goin’ to spend it on?”
“I’m goin’ to spend it on good whiskey ’n bad women,” Smitty said, and the others laughed.
* * *
MacMurtry watched Lanagan and the six men ride off, then he stepped back inside and poured himself a cup of coffee.
“You want some sweetener with that coffee?” McCoy asked.
“I don’t never put no sugar in m’ coffee ’cause they’s too many times when I ain’t got it,” MacMurtry replied.
McCoy smiled. “I ain’t talkin’ about sugar,” he said, as he held up a bottle of whiskey.
“Yeah,” MacMurtry said, with a smile. “That kind of sweetener I will take.”
McCoy poured some whiskey into MacMurtry’s cup, then fixed a cup for himself.
“So, tell me, McCoy, do you think Lanagan really will see to it that we all get a share of that ten thousand dollars?” MacMurtry asked as he took a swallow.
“Yeah, I do. Lanagan is a good man.” McCoy chuckled. “And I ought to know. I was about to get myself hung, hell, they already had the gallows built ’n the invitations was sent out. But the day before I was scheduled to do my dance, Lanagan ’n Claymore showed up, ’n broke me out of jail.”
“What kind of setup do we have goin’ here? I’ll tell you the truth, I ain’t never seen a outlaw outfit that had this many men. They’s seven of us here, ’n Slater, he’ll more ’n likely be back, plus the seven that’s gone out to stand up the coach that’s carryin’ ten thousand dollars. That means we’re goin’ to have to divide it by fifteen. No, wait, there will only be nine thousand for us to divide up, seein’ as he said that the feller that told him about it is goin’ to get a thousand dollars, all by his ownself. That’s goin’ to cut it down some considerable.”
“Can you cipher?” McCoy asked.
“I can cipher some.”
“I can cipher real good, ’n I done figured this out. This’ll come to over six hunnert ’n ninety dollars for each ’n ever’ one of us. Now, let me ask you this. What is it that you’ve had to do to earn this near ’bout seven hunnert dollars?”
MacMurtry stared at McCoy for just a second, then he broke into a wide grin. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, you’re right, I ain’t had to do nothin’ for it.”
“You ain’t done nothin’ for it, but it’s goin’ to be put right in your hands. So, what do you think of Lanagan’s outfit now?”
“I say it sounds like a pretty good outfit to ride with.”
“I’ll say. ’N this won’t be the all of it, neither. What with the fool Dalton Conyers actin’ as the sheriff in Audubon, why we can have our run of the place, ’n he won’t be able to do nothin’ at all about it.”
“What does Conyers look like? Have you ever seen ’im?” MacMurtry asked.
“Hell yeah, I’ve seen ’im. He’s the son of a bitch that took me over to Antelope, so’s I could be hung.”
“What’s he look like?”
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“Well, he’s kind of tall and gangly lookin’, got blond hair ’n a few freckles. Why do you ask? Do you think you know ’im?”
MacMurtry took another swallow of his coffee. “I don’t know, I have to say that, that sounds like the Conyers I know. But the one I know is the son of a big rancher that I once rode for. I can’t see him actual bein’ a deputy sheriff. If he is the same man, don’t sell ’im short. The Dalton Conyers I know is smart and pretty determined. The only thing is, I can’t see someone as rich as Dalton Conyers bein’ a sheriff’s deputy, so we more ’n likely ain’t got to worry none about ’im.”
“Well, I don’t know whether this is the feller you’re thinkin’ about or not,” McCoy said. “All I know is that he’s the one that’s actin’ as the sheriff now, seein’ as Peabody has been shot ’n all.”
“I wonder,” MacMurtry said as he refilled his cup with coffee and the “sweetener.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Cal, who had stretched his legs out on the seat, was sitting with his head resting in the corner of the coach. His eyes were closed.
“Ha!” Pearlie said, pointing to his friend. “I see where Cal is being extra vigilant.”
“Well, after all, Pearlie, you did have a mule kick him in the head,” Sally said. “So are you going to begrudge him a little nap?”
“What? I had a mule . . .” Pearlie paused in mid-comment as he realized what Sally was talking about.
“I reckon he’s got a right to sleep some,” he said. The coach had come ten miles in the last hour, and was now about halfway to Audubon. Pearlie looked out the window. “No trouble so far,” he said. “We may be worrying about nothing.”
“It’s better to be alert and have nothing happen, than to have something happen and not be alert,” Smoke said.
“Well, I sure can’t argue with you about that,” Pearlie agreed.
About five minutes later, Cal woke up, then stretched. He was aware that the others were staring at him.
Torture of the Mountain Man Page 16
