by Paul Green
‘No, sir.’
‘Good. C’mon fellas, let’s get this mess tidied up, start a new game and have a drink.’
They settled down again to play. Ellis sat in surly silence while Samuels appeared to get progressively drunk. Eventually, his head lolled forward and he started to snore.
‘I guess I’ll be on my way,’ said Ellis, rising from the table.
The others waited until he had closed the door behind him, then prepared to make their move. Esterhaz carefully removed the ring of keys from the deputy’s belt and went over to unlock the cell. Jorge and Pablo got up from the table and followed.
‘Come on, Murray, time to wake up,’ hissed Esterhaz through the bars but Harrison lay on his side, his hand on the pearl-handled revolver he had hidden under the pillow. The Mexican stepped inside and put a hand on his shoulder to wake him. Harrison was on his feet in a flash, his gun thrust into a face whose eyes widened in astonishment.
Jorge and Pablo turned to run for the door but a suddenly sober Samuels stopped them in their tracks. ‘I think you should stay awhile,’ said the deputy. He gestured back towards the cell with his weapon. At that moment Ellis returned, accompanied by Johnson, both men holding their pistols ready.
‘You see, boys, I’ve got plenty of back-up,’ said Samuels with a sly smile.
Harrison tossed his false beard to one side without taking his eyes off Esterhaz.
‘Drop those keys on the bed and then turn round.’
The Mexican did as he was told and was then ordered to kneel, placing his hands behind his head. Harrison picked up the keys and backed warily out of the cell.
‘Go on, get your asses in there too,’ said Johnson as he shoved Pablo and Jorge forward. Once they were inside, Harrison locked the door behind them and threw the keys over to Samuels. The three men glowered at them through the bars as Johnson and his companions retreated towards the door.
‘Will you be all right, guarding them by yourself?’ Harrison asked Samuels.
‘Sure I will. You can all get yourselves off to bed now.’
‘You haven’t seen the last of me, Harrison. I’ll kill you, I swear it!’ Jorge called through the bars as they all turned to leave.
‘I’ll be ready for you,’ Harrison replied as he stepped outside.
‘I won’t lose any sleep about him coming to find me one day; I’ll probably be dead by the time he gets out of jail!’ Harrison told his companions as they joined him outside. Then Ellis was warmly thanked for his help before he disappeared in search of a drink.
‘I’ll meet you tomorrow outside the post office,’ Johnson reminded Harrison.
Harrison nodded his agreement, then trudged wearily towards his hotel. The long period of waiting in that cell and the constant need to remain alert had tired him more than he realized. He would be glad of a good night’s sleep.
Back inside the jail, Jorge pleaded for a drink. ‘Give us some of that whiskey, Joe.’
Samuels sighed and took his feet off the table. ‘I shouldn’t really, so don’t tell Sheriff Lawson when he comes in tomorrow, or he’ll get mad.’
The deputy poured out three glasses and brought them over. Three sets of hands reached through the bars but it was Jorge who deftly whipped Samuels’ gun from its holster. He grinned as his jailer found himself staring helplessly at his own gun.
‘The party’s over, Joe.’ Jorge reached through again to take the keys but Samuels stepped back so that they were out of reach.
‘Don’t mess with us, just unlock the door or I’ll shoot.’
There was a split second’s hesitation before Samuels decided to make a run for it. It was awkward firing between the bars of a cell door and he calculated that he might just make it. The first shot missed but the second caught him between the shoulders as he reached the table. He pulled it to the ground as he fell, sending its contents rolling across the floor.
The body lay crumpled on the flagstones, the keys out of reach, but Pablo’s long arm stretched out between the bars and managed to grab hold of a foot. Heaving with all his might, he shifted the corpse a fraction nearer the cell. Jorge and Esterhaz could now reach the other foot and with another heave they brought the body near enough to get the keys. Frantically, they unlocked the door and went to pick up their gunbelts.
The two shots, fired one after the other, sounded very loud in the stillness of the night. Harrison spun round, suddenly alert once more. He was sure the noise had come from the jail and ran back towards it, a gun in each hand. Pausing by the window, he peered through in time to see the three prisoners unlock the cell door and pick up their weapons from among the debris on the floor. Pablo was out first and Harrison fired through the window, aiming as best he could. The shot hit Pablo in the face; the burly Mexican threw up his arms with a cry and fell backwards. Jorge and Esterhaz flung themselves down. Harrison could no longer see them from this angle. Cursing, he ran round to the door and kicked it open, then he charged in with both guns blazing.
The next moments passed in a blur. He hit Esterhaz before the lamp was shot out and continued firing into the darkness at the moving shape he sensed just a few feet away. His shots were returned, then there was a sharp pain in his chest before he felt himself falling and his world dissolved into oblivion.
Harrison was running through the desert while ahead of him the wind blew a cloud of rhundred-dollar bills. In vain he reached out with his arms to catch them but each time he drew near they were whipped further away from him. He tried to run faster but his legs were as heavy as lead while inside his head a voice echoed, growing ever louder and more insistent: ‘It’s the Devil’s payroll! The Devil’s payroll! THE DEVIL’S PAYROLL!!!’
He awoke to feel Maggie wiping his brow once more with the cool, damp cloth. ‘You were having a nightmare, but it’s over now.’
Harrison stirred and asked sleepily. ‘What the hell happened to me? I feel as if I’ve been run over by a steam train.’
‘You were shot, but a surgeon got the bullet out and you’re going to be fine.’
He frowned as he struggled to remember. ‘Did I get the man who did it?’
‘You got one of ’em and I got the other,’ said Johnson, who had quietly entered the room just in time to witness his friend’s recovery.
Harrison smiled weakly. ‘Nice work, Eli. What did we do with the money?’
‘You don’t need to worry about that any more, John. The colonel figured you’d done enough already so he sent it ahead to the army depot by stage with two officers guardin’ it.’
‘Oh, that’s good news.’ He looked across to where Maggie was sitting, her eyes glistening with tears. ‘Don’t cry. You just said that I’m going to be all right.’
‘Yes,’ she told him. ‘I know you are. From now on we’ll both be all right and nothing will ever separate us again.’
‘Does that mean you’ll marry me?’ he whispered.
She nodded her assent. ‘I was beginning to think you’d never to ask.’
‘I was beginning to think I’d never get the chance.’ Then he smiled weakly as he drifted back to sleep, at last finding the peace that had eluded him for so long.
Copyright
© Paul Green 2011
First published in Great Britain 2011
This edition 2013
ISBN 978 0 7198 0882 1 (epub)
ISBN 978 0 7198 0883 8 (mobi)
ISBN 978 0 7198 0884 5 (pdf)
ISBN 978 0 7090 9302 2 (print)
Robert Hale Limited
Clerkenwell House
Clerkenwell Green
London EC1R 0HT
www.halebooks.com
The right of Paul Green to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
