“Well, I’ll be . . .” Billy started. It was difficult to believe, but it couldn’t be better for his purposes. He now knew exactly where to find Ben, and he could be sure he would be there. This chance meeting with these two tenderfoot settlers was the best piece of luck he’d ever had.
Judging by the expression on Billy’s face, Robert was prompted to remark. “I expect Ben will be real surprised to see you. Do you two go way back?”
“Yes, sir, we sure do—way back. We used to be Rangers together. And you’re right, Ben’s gonna be plum tickled to see me again.” And if you think so much of him, you can come to his funeral, he thought. “Yes, sir, Ben’s gonna be plum tickled,” he repeated.
It turned out to be a pleasant time for Billy Turner, visiting with the Griers while his horses were watered and rested. Even though he was anxious to get about the business he had traveled far to accomplish, just knowing his reward was sitting and waiting for his appointment with Mr. Colt and his six friends was enough to make his spirits soar. He knew in his heart that he would kill Ben Savage. Everything pointed to that end. Maybe it was pure luck, but if it was, it was the luck of the devil. He could have taken any number of directions out of Austin to reach Buzzard’s Bluff. There was no road from Austin to Buzzard’s Bluff, no wagon track, no old Indian trail. He just pointed the Palouse’s nose in the general direction of the Navasota River, and the trail he picked took him right to this cabin and two people who could tell him exactly where to find Ben Savage. By the time his horses were ready to go again, Robert and Sue Ann were convinced that they had met one of Ben’s old friends, and they were glad they had helped them get together again.
Billy wished the couple luck with their plans to grow their peaches and promised that he would be sure to come back when he was in this part of the territory again. They watched him as he rode away. “What a nice man,” Sue Ann remarked. “He said he couldn’t wait to surprise Ben.”
* * *
“Damn, I’m impressed,” Billy said to himself when he reined his horse to a halt by the hotel and paused there to look up the main street of Buzzard’s Bluff. It had grown considerably in the years since he had been there. On his ride from Robert Grier’s cabin, he had tried to decide how best to execute his plan to kill Ben Savage. His initial plan was to simply take him by surprise, walk up to him and shoot him down, jump on his horse, and make tracks. But that was with the picture of the town in his mind as he had last seen it. Looking at Buzzard’s Bluff now, he had to consider the possibility that instant escape might not be as easy as he thought. There was even a jail here now. There was the option of calling Ben out to face him in a fair fight, but Billy didn’t believe in fair fights. Those who did were fools as far as he was concerned. He needed an advantage, and surprise was the best advantage he could count on.
He considered the option of waiting in ambush and taking Ben down with his rifle, but as he walked his horse slowly up the street, he couldn’t see a spot where he could sit unnoticed while he waited for Ben to walk by. He discarded that plan. When he went past the sheriff’s office, Mack Bragg stepped out on the porch and stood there to look him over. Billy nodded. “Sheriff,” he acknowledged. Bragg returned the nod. Billy rode on by the Golden Rail, then a little farther up the street, he saw the sign he was looking for. “The Lost Coyote Saloon,” he murmured under his breath, “a dumb name for a saloon.” He felt the muscles in his forearms tense up, and all thoughts of clever plans to assassinate this man he hated were overwhelmed by the primeval desire to walk in and shoot him down. With that thought only, he rode up to the hitching rail and dismounted. He paused to look right and left to make sure he didn’t spot Ben or that sheriff who had just given him a looking over. Satisfied that no one was giving him a second look, he looped the Palouse’s reins over the rail and walked up on the porch. Before walking inside, he stopped at the batwing doors to peer into the saloon. Seeing no sign of the man he hunted, he pushed through the doors and stopped to scan the lightly crowded room again. He looked from one side to the other, up at the top of the stairs and back down. Ben wasn’t there. He headed toward Rachel, who was talking to Cecil Howard at her usual spot at the end the bar.
Moving down the bar to meet him, Tiny greeted him. “Evenin’, stranger, what’s your pleasure?”
“I’ll take a shot of rye whiskey, if you’ve got rye,” Billy said.
“We sure do,” Tiny assured him and produced a bottle from under the bar. “Don’t believe I’ve seen you in before.”
“I’ve been here before,” Billy said, “but this place wasn’t here the last time I passed through Buzzard’s Bluff.” He took another look around the room to be sure, then tossed his whiskey down.
“Is that a fact?” Tiny asked. “What brings you back this time? You just passin’ through this time, or you plannin’ to stay a while?”
Billy gave him a slow smile, thinking he asked a lot of questions. “I came to look up an old friend of mine. I heard this was where he hung out.”
“Oh?” Tiny responded. “Who’s that?”
“Ben Savage.”
At the sound of Ben’s name, the conversation between Rachel and Cecil stopped, and they both turned to see who might be inquiring after him. “Good evening,” Rachel greeted him. “Ben isn’t here right now. You say you’re a friend of his?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Billy answered politely. “Me and Ben rode together when we was both Rangers. I couldn’t ride through this way unless I stopped to see ol’ Ben.”
“He just stepped out for a little while,” Rachel said. “He should be back pretty soon. Why don’t you sit down and have another drink? I’m sure Ben will be glad to see an old friend from the Rangers.”
He sure will, Billy thought. To her, he said, “That’s a good idea. That’s what I’ll do.” He waited for Tiny to pour him another shot of rye, then walked over to an empty table on the side of the room, thinking Ben would more likely glance toward the bar when he walked in. He pulled a chair back and sat down facing the door. When he was sure Rachel and the two men at the bar were no longer looking at him, he eased his Colt .44 out of his holster and put it in his lap. Ready to welcome Ben, he sat waiting. He took another glance toward the bar to make sure Rachel was still there, just in case she was somehow suspicious. Evidently, she wasn’t, so he returned his full attention to the front door.
After about fifteen minutes, with no sign of Ben, Rachel walked over to the table. “I thought Ben would be back by now,” she said to Billy. “He just went to eat supper. I’m sure he’ll be back any minute now. Can I get you another drink?”
“No, ma’am,” Billy replied. “I’m gonna hold off for a while, ’cause I expect I’ll do plenty of drinkin’ when Ben gets here. Don’t you worry ’bout me. I’ve got plenty of time.” She smiled at him and returned to the bar.
* * *
“Are you gonna need another cup of coffee?” Cindy Moore asked when she came up to the table carrying the coffeepot.
Ben gave Henry Barnes a questioning look, but Henry shook his head. “I reckon I’ve had enough, too, Cindy. That’s gonna do it for me. You be sure and tell Myrtle that she’s outdone herself again.”
“Tell her I agree with him,” Henry said, then turned back to Ben. “You goin’ back to the Coyote now?” Ben said he was, so Henry said, “I’ll walk with you. I’m goin’ back to the stable.”
Lacy James came over to the door to dispense her customary sassy nonsense to Ben while he paused to strap on his six-gun. “All our customers appreciate the fact that you didn’t shoot anybody while you had your supper.”
“If I had, it wouldn’ta been any of your customers,” Ben returned, “maybe some of the hired help.”
“I’m gonna tell Cindy and Myrtle you said that,” she joked. “There might be a little something extra in that soup next time.” He laughed with her, and he and Henry walked out to the street.
“Seein’ as how I’m supposed to be a businessman now, it doesn’t seem right to be we
arin’ a gun belt and a six-gun around town, does it?” He looked over at Henry. “You don’t ever wear one.”
“No, I reckon not,” Henry remarked as they took a casual walk past the sheriff’s office and the Golden Rail. “I ain’t seen many occasions when I thought I needed one. I couldn’t hit nothin’ with one, if I did wear it. It’s a different situation with you, though.” He was thinking of the confrontations Ben had survived in the short time since he had arrived in Buzzard’s Bluff. “If I was you, I wouldn’t take it off.”
Ben started to respond, but his thoughts were interrupted by something that caught his eye, causing him to become immediately alert. Tied at the rail in front of the Coyote, he saw a Palouse horse and a packhorse. Although an unusual breed of horse, you might occasionally come across one, but he knew for sure one man who rode one, and Captain Mitchell’s warning about Billy Turner came to mind. There was no reason to believe Billy could know he was here in Buzzard’s Bluff. His appearance here might be strictly coincidence, or the horse might not be the one that Billy rides. Whatever, he decided, it wouldn’t hurt to take precautions. So, as they approached the Lost Coyote, he said, “I’ll say good evenin’, Henry. I’m gonna go in the back door. I think I might need to visit the outhouse.”
“You think that soup mighta already had somethin’ in it,” Henry said with a chuckle. “I’ll see you later.” He continued on and Ben headed toward the back of the saloon.
CHAPTER 18
He truly hoped he was wrong as he unlocked the back door of the saloon, but with a man like Billy Turner, it was better to be cautious. If it was Billy, Ben decided he was in Buzzard’s Bluff for only one purpose, so he wanted to make damn sure before he walked in that barroom. Inside the back hallway, he walked as quietly as possible past the rooms located there. When he got to the kitchen door, he paused to take a quick look inside to make sure Johnny Grey had already picked Annie up. When he confirmed that, he continued on to the door to the saloon. He opened the door slowly, a little bit at a time, until he could view the entire room. There were a few customers, but not the usual crowd, since it was still early. He glanced at the bar and saw Tiny and Rachel talking to Cecil Howard. Then he scanned back across the broad room and stopped on the back of a lone customer. There was little doubt. It was Billy Turner, seated facing the front door, waiting for him to come walking in.
Trying not to make a sound, Ben walked in the door, his eyes on Rachel and Tiny. As soon as he took two steps into the room, Rachel caught sight of him and started to call out. But she hesitated when she saw his finger pressed to his lips, signaling her not to speak. She thought she understood at once, he wanted to surprise his friend, so she told Tiny and Cecil not to give it away. All three turned to watch Ben’s surprise move with wide smiles of anticipation upon their faces.
So intent upon watching the front door, Billy was totally unaware of the big man moving silently up behind him. When he was close enough to see the pistol Billy was holding in his lap, Ben was sure then that there was no chance Billy was there for any reason other than murder. He drew his six-gun then and said, “You lookin’ for me, Billy?”
Startled, Billy’s reaction was akin to an explosion. His natural instinct was to turn and fire without time to see what he was shooting at. Ready for such a move, Ben caught him beside his head with the barrel of his pistol, as hard as he could swing it, knocking Billy flat and sending a shot into the ceiling before he hit the floor. Stunned from the force of the blow, Billy could offer no resistance when Ben snatched the Colt out of his hand and rolled him over on his belly. “Tiny!” Ben yelled. “Go out front and get a rope off that Palouse tied at the rail.”
Tiny stood frozen, his eyes and mouth wide open, until Rachel punched him on the shoulder and yelled, “Go!” She looked back at Ben, kneeling on Billy, his knee in the middle of Billy’s back. She had seen Ben in action before, against Bob Wills and Ed Hatcher, but this was different. This time he was angry. It was apparent in his face and in the force with which he struck Billy down.
At that moment, Tuck Tucker walked in the front door, stepping aside to keep from being bowled over by Tiny on his way to get the rope. “Hey,” he blurted, “what was that shot I heard?”
“Go get Mack Bragg!” Ben ordered. Tuck sputtered, confused for a few seconds, before going back out the door. By the time he was back with the sheriff, Billy’s hands were tied behind his back and his ankles tied together. It was unlikely he could have struggled, even had he not been tied, for he was still not recovered from the blow to his head.
Mack Bragg was no longer surprised by the confrontations Ben Savage seemed to have with those on the wrong side of the law. So he was very calm when he looked at the trussed-up body of a stranger he had seen riding through town less than an hour before. After taking a close look at Billy, he looked up at Ben. “Trouble?”
“Yeah. This one’s gonna be a lotta trouble, but it’s gonna be mostly me that has to deal with it. Let me tell you right off that this is a legitimate arrest, so let’s take him to jail till some arrangements can be made. I’ll explain it all after we put him in jail.”
“All right,” Bragg said. “You usually know what you’re doin’. That’s his spotted-lookin’ horse out front, ain’t it?” Ben nodded. “I’ll take it to the stable after we put this one in a cell. You wanna throw him across the saddle?”
“That’s as good a way as any,” Ben allowed. He reached down and grabbed Billy by the shoulders and stood him up on his feet. He bent over and let Billy fall across his shoulder, then stood up and walked out the door. Tuck ran out the door in front of him in a hurry to get the horse turned around, but the spirited Palouse was suspicious of the little redheaded gnome and continued to pull away, at times lifting Tuck’s feet off the ground. Impatient and not entirely over his anger at having Billy come after him, Ben said, “To hell with it, the jail ain’t that far.” And he walked down the street to the jail with his bundle on his shoulder. Mack Bragg walked along beside him asking questions.
“Who is he?” Bragg asked.
“His name’s Billy Turner. He was a Texas Ranger, workin’ outta Fort Worth. He was just thrown out of the Ranger service for executing prisoners while he was transportin’ ’em back for trial. I had the misfortune of workin’ with him to arrest two outlaws down at Navasota. The low-down varmint tricked ’em into makin’ a play for a gun he knew was empty. Then he shot ’em down when they went for it. I didn’t like it, and I told him so. He blames me for gettin’ his ass kicked out of the service.” Bragg hurried on ahead as they approached the jail to unlock the door. “I wish to hell there was a telegraph line near this town,” Ben commented as he carried his package inside.
Once they had Billy laid out on a cot in one of the cells, Bragg started to question Ben. “What am I supposed to do with him?” he asked. “I understand what you told me he did, but as sheriff of this town, I don’t know what to do with him but hold him in jail for a while. From what you told me, he needs to be picked up by the Rangers. And like you just said, there ain’t no telegraph near here to wire the Rangers to come get him. You know the town ain’t gonna pay to feed him but for so long, and I’ll have to let him out. So he’s liable to be after you again.”
“Like I told you back at the saloon, it’s gonna be my problem and not yours. I’d appreciate it if you’d keep this just between the two of us.” Bragg nodded, anxious to hear what Ben was going to tell him. Ben continued to explain the predicament. “The thing is, I’m still a Texas Ranger. I went to Austin to resign, but my boss talked me into keepin’ my badge and givin’ him a hand when there’s something in this area that needs my help. So what it boils down to is I made an official arrest of Billy Turner, and it’ll be my responsibility to transport him back to Austin for trial.”
“Damn,” Bragg swore. “That’s a helluva note. Why didn’t you just shoot him instead of knockin’ him in the head?”
“Now you sound like him,” Ben cracked, nodding toward the cell room. �
��That’s what got me in all this trouble in the first place.”
“I swear,” Bragg said, shaking his head. “What gets me is, how did you manage to stay alive up to now? Operatin’ a saloon and still a Texas Ranger, but you’re gonna still be stayin’ right here, right?”
“That’s right, but don’t let it concern you. I won’t be interferin’ with the town’s business at all. You’re the sheriff, and it ain’t none of my business.”
“I understand,” Bragg said. “There won’t be no problem.” To himself, he thought, The hell you ain’t. I’m gonna be calling on you anytime I need help. “Are you gonna transport him to Austin right away? I need to know what to tell Lacy about feedin’ him.”
“Keep him a day or two, or at least till he acts like he knows which side is up. I don’t know how hard I hit him and I wanna be sure he ain’t outta his head, if I’m gonna be ridin’ with him all the way to Austin.”
“Well, I hope he’s just got a headache,” Bragg declared. “I ain’t set up to run no mental hospital.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll take him off your hands.” Ben assured him and started for the door. “I’ll take his horses up to the stable and tell Henry what’s goin’ on.” With a shake of his head, he added, “I’ll see if Tuck is still swingin’ on the reins of that Palouse.”
When he got back to the saloon, he found it unnecessary to tell Henry. Henry was at the Coyote when Ben got there. So were quite a few other people who were curious about the one gunshot. Rachel, Tiny, and Cecil were the ones most anxious to hear the story, for they were the three who watched what they thought was a practical joke on an old friend. “Honestly, Ben,” Rachel marveled, “we thought you just suddenly went loco.” She was especially chagrined that she had been so cordial to the man, oblivious to the fact that he had come to kill Ben. He told them the story behind the whole bizarre occurrence. Later on, when it was just the two of them, he could tell her about the trip he was going to have to take to Austin. It’s a damn good thing she’s the one who really runs this place, he thought. There was still the worry about what was going on at the Double-D, and that was the main reason he hated to leave for the time it would take to get Billy to Austin. All had been peaceful, but he couldn’t bring himself to believe Daniel Dalton had come to the peace table.
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