Ralph Compton Straight Shooter

by Ralph Compton

  Afterward, Aldus and Hayes walked back down the street as the sounds of other people’s merriment drifted around them from saloons and a few restaurants hosting the theater crowd.

  “So that’s it?” Aldus asked. “The law ain’t gonna do a thing about us nearly getting robbed?”

  “They told me they’d keep an eye out for those two men. The sheriff thinks he knows who it might have been and has already been looking for them.”

  “Yeah,” Aldus grunted. “And doing a real good job of it.”

  “We handled ourselves well enough,” Hayes said. “That’s all that ever counts. I doubt those two desperadoes will want to tangle with us again. Even if they do, we’ll be ready for them.” The salesman stopped at a saloon named the Corsican and said, “I need a drink.”

  “And I need to get off my feet,” Aldus grunted.

  “Well, I believe there are chairs as well as libations inside this establishment, so I propose that we take full advantage.”

  “It’s too late for all them big words.”

  Hayes put a hand on his partner’s shoulder and steered him toward the batwing doors. “How are these words for you? I’m buying.”

  Chapter 6

  Aldus was used to getting up before sunrise. In his fighting days, he would wake up when it was still dark so he could hone his craft by punching wooden beams until his knuckles bled. Then he would drag sacks of grain up and down an alley or empty lot. Even though his work wasn’t quite so demanding any longer, his schedule had been ingrained too deeply for him to keep his eyes from popping open at the same time every day.

  Hayes, on the other hand, was a different sort of animal. The salesman kept later hours, oftentimes gambling away his portion of their profits at a card table or spending it on expensive liquor. Oddly enough, he would buy the same bottle of liquor as a consolation for slow days as he would to celebrate the busy ones. Aldus wasn’t particularly opposed to such indulgences. He simply didn’t partake in them because he knew how hard it would be to rein himself in again.

  When Hayes couldn’t be found after Aldus had his breakfast, it wasn’t much of a surprise.

  Aldus spent his morning preparing the wagons for the trail, making sure everything was tied down and cinched in tight. He took stock of their inventory, counting all the rifles and pistols while ensuring that all of the panels on the side of the larger wagon were locked. By the time he was done with that, despite the eggs and bacon he’d had earlier, Aldus’s stomach was growling.

  He went to their familiar restaurant nearby and had a big bowl of hot oatmeal with honey drizzled on top. Resisting the urge to order a pork chop to go along with it, Aldus finished his coffee and walked back to the wagon. Hayes was still nowhere to be found. While it was possible the salesman was sleeping off a hard night, it wasn’t like him to be so late on a day when they were going to be leaving town. Because of the trouble the night before, Aldus still had the Schofield at his side. He checked to be certain the gun was loaded and then reached down to pat the ankle where his knife was strapped. He started walking to Kay Felts’s hotel, confident he was prepared for any trouble he might find along the way.

  As soon as he rounded the corner that brought him to the correct street, Aldus saw the hotel. More important, he spotted the two people huddled on the porch in front of the hotel. Hayes was sitting on a stool and Kay herself was hovering over him, dabbing at his head with a rag.

  “Where have you been?” Aldus asked once he’d gotten close enough to be heard.

  “There was a bit of trouble,” Hayes replied.

  Kay fretted over him still. When she pulled the rag away from his head, Aldus could see the blood that had soaked into it. Aldus hurried onto the porch and leaned in to get a closer look. “What happened to you?” he asked.

  “I was on my way down to breakfast when I thought I noticed one of those fellows from the other night standing in the street,” Hayes explained.

  Aldus looked out at the street and then cast his gaze across the way as if the outlaw might still be there. “Which one was it?”

  “The big one. The one who knocked you around.”

  “You were attacked as well?” Kay asked.

  Not wanting to explain to her, Aldus quickly said, “I’m fine. They’re just a couple of idiots who thought they could take our money.”

  “That’s terrible,” she said. “Someone should tell the sheriff.”

  “So what happened to your head, Zeke?”

  Hayes didn’t flinch upon hearing that nickname. It seemed he’d already flinched more than enough while Kay dabbed the wet rag against the bloody portion of his scalp. “That big fellow was gone before I could notify anyone, so I went about my preparations for the day. I gathered up my things, took the strongbox under my arm, and headed outside.”

  “You just walked out there with that box under your arm?” Aldus asked. “You knew them other two would be after it!”

  “I didn’t just have it out for all to see! Besides, I was armed.”

  Normally Hayes wore a nickel-plated .45 that was one of the most visually striking pistols in his inventory. It packed a tremendous kick and was easy on the eye. Big seller. Now his finely tooled holster was empty.

  “The box was wrapped up in my coat,” Hayes said while waving toward the porch. “I stepped outside and walked down the street and was struck from out of nowhere.”

  “Was it that big fella?” Aldus asked.

  “Couldn’t tell you who it was exactly, but it had to be one of them. All I know is I felt a sharp pain, my ears were set to ringing, and before I knew it, I was on the ground.” Placing a hand gingerly on his temple, Hayes added, “Still feels like my head is full of cotton.”

  “It is,” Aldus grunted while taking rough hold of Hayes and pushing aside Kay’s hand. “You should have come and got me before walking out with that money.”

  “Why didn’t you come for me this morning?”

  “I did! I knocked on your door and you didn’t answer. What was I supposed to do? Break it off its hinges?”

  Hayes looked up to Kay, who nodded to him and said, “He was there, all right. Bright and early.”

  When Aldus smacked Hayes upside his head, the salesman twisted around and asked, “What was that for?”

  “For having to look to her instead of taking my word for it.”

  “I suppose I had that coming,” Hayes sighed.

  Feeling guilty more because of the look he got from Kay than the swat he’d given to Hayes, Aldus pushed aside some of the other man’s hair.

  “I already said I had it coming,” Hayes groused. “No need to make it worse.”

  “Just hold still,” Aldus said as he leaned in closer. “Let me have a look. I’ve had plenty of these kinds of wounds myself and have seen plenty more.”

  The wound was ugly and wet with blood, but that was to be expected. Hayes had been hit toward the back of his head on the right side. “Doesn’t look so bad,” Aldus said.

  Kay grimaced. “I don’t know. It was bleeding an awful lot.”

  “Any knock to the head is gonna bleed a lot. What about this?” Aldus asked as he grabbed Hayes by the shoulder and rocked him back and forth.

  The salesman planted his feet and used his arms to steady himself before reaching back to knock Aldus away. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Feel like you’re gonna vomit?”

  “No, but I feel like I would have been in better hands if those robbers were still here.”

  Coming around to stand in front of Hayes, Aldus squatted down to get to his level and held up three fingers. “How many fingers do you see?”

  “Three, now get them away from me!”

  Holding his hand as far back as he could, Aldus switched it to four fingers that were kept close together. “What about now?”

  If Hayes had gl
ared at his attacker the same way he now glared at Aldus, the outlaw might still have been rooted to his spot. “Four,” he said in a terse voice.

  “You’ll be fine,” Aldus said. “If you were hurt really bad, you would have heaved up yesterday’s supper when I shook you that way and you wouldn’t be able to see straight enough to count two of my fingers. Now answer me one question.”

  “What?”

  “Why didn’t you answer your door when I knocked?”

  Hayes sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I was still asleep. It was a rough night.”

  “By that, you mean you drank too much.”

  “Yes. If you insist on pressing the matter, yes. I probably drank too much. Are you satisfied?”

  “I’d be satisfied if you could pay me my share of the profits,” Aldus said. When he saw the pained expression on the other man’s face, he said, “Fine. I’ll ease up a bit. You want to see a doctor for that head?”

  Reaching up to tenderly touch his bloody scalp, Hayes looked at his fingers and said, “Looks like the bleeding’s stopped. Do you recall enough from your fighting days to dress that wound?”

  “I could stitch your face back together and set a broken nose if it came down to it,” Aldus told him. “This shouldn’t be much of a problem.”

  “Fine, then. Let’s get to it.”

  Kay brought Aldus clean water and some thin material he could tear apart for a dressing. Since she’d already been tending to the wound before he’d arrived, there really wasn’t much left for Aldus to do other than wipe away the last of the blood and wrap some makeshift bandages around his head. Although cuts in a man’s scalp tended to bleed profusely, they didn’t do so for long. Hayes was back on his feet in no time. A little wobbly for his first couple of steps, but doing better by the time he’d walked back to the sheriff’s office. This time, Aldus didn’t even bother going inside with him.

  The salesman stepped outside in a few short minutes, wearing an expression that didn’t inspire much hope.

  “So, what did he tell you?” Aldus asked, even though he was reluctant to hear the answer.

  Hayes held his top hat in hand and placed it on his head. Despite the pained wince that drifted across his face, he forced the hat down as far into place as it would go over the bandages. “He offered his condolences and assured me he and his men would be looking for those outlaws.”

  “And what about our money?”

  “If it is found, he will keep it safe for us until we can claim it.”

  “I just bet he will,” Aldus grunted.

  “No need for that kind of talk,” Hayes scolded. “The sheriff may not have exactly risen to the occasion here, but I highly doubt he’s the sort that would deliberately cheat us. If he finds that money, I have no doubt he’ll keep it safe until we come back to town.”

  “So that’s it? We just tuck our tails between our legs and leave town?”

  “Unless you want to organize a posse to scour the country looking for those two outlaws.”

  That was exactly what Aldus wanted to do, but even he couldn’t entertain that thought for long. First of all, he was not a tracker or a lawman. Since the lawmen in Cedar Rapids didn’t show any interest in taking this bull by its horns, there wasn’t much of a chance that Aldus could convince them any better than Hayes could. Second, there was no telling where those outlaws had gone. They could be hiding somewhere in town or miles away in any direction. Third, even if he did catch up with them, Aldus wasn’t a gunfighter. He’d been lucky to survive last night’s fight and knew his chances were slim of walking away from a rematch.

  “You’re right,” Hayes said as he started walking down the street. “It was my fault.”

  “I never meant it was your fault.”

  “Didn’t you? Well, you should have.”

  Aldus shook his head. “That wasn’t the first time someone tried to rob us. Wasn’t even the first time someone got away with it.”

  “It’s the first time they got away with so much of our money,” Hayes said with an edge in his voice that was sharp enough to cut to the bone.

  “I just wanna do something about it, is all.”

  “Unfortunately, my friend, there isn’t a lot we can do.” Hayes lifted his chin and pulled in a deep breath. Soon he was wearing a smile that was as tired as it was genuine. “All that’s left for us to do is dust ourselves off and move along. We may yet reclaim our money when we come back here, and then it’ll be like a found fortune. In the meantime, we roll up our sleeves and work harder to line our pockets once again.”

  “I hear what you’re saying. . . . I can even see how you’re right about a few things,” Aldus grudgingly admitted.

  “Just a few things?”

  Not ready to let go of the dark scowl that had taken residence on his face, Aldus placed his hand on the holstered Schofield as if he was looking for any excuse to draw it. “I just don’t like running away from a fight.”

  “Don’t knock running away. If we’d done that sooner, we wouldn’t have been in this predicament.” Since his partner wasn’t responding to the joke, Hayes himself chuckled at it. “We’re not running,” he said. The single nod he gave after those words made it seem as if he’d said them for his benefit more than anyone else’s. “We’re just getting on with our lives. We were set to pack up and move on today, and that’s just what we’ll do. Somehow those outlaws will pay for what they did. Until then, it doesn’t do us one ounce of good to hinder ourselves any more than we already have been.”

  “They’ll pay, huh?” Aldus asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Most assuredly.”

  “Are you just saying that to keep me quiet?”

  The salesman shrugged. “I would think of it more as lifting your spirits, but we do have a schedule to keep.”

  “We do, don’t we?” Aldus took a deep breath and lifted his chin the way Hayes had done a few moments ago. The air was crisp, cool, and smelled of burning wood. Someone was baking bread nearby, which always brightened his spirits. At least, it took some of the sting out of the day’s events. “Tell me one thing, Zeke.”

  “No, Aldus. I’m not going to pay you out of my own pocket. We’ll have to pool everything we have just to make it to the next town and make enough to put us flush again.”

  “That’s not what I wanted to ask.”

  “Oh,” Hayes replied. “Go ahead, then.”

  “Did you at least wound that gunman when you shot at him last night?”

  “I hit him in the heel.”

  “So he’s slowed down at least,” Aldus said with a grin.

  “Not as such. Just the heel of his boot, mostly.”

  Aldus didn’t say much else as they got their horses from the stable where they’d been kept. He knew every fighter had to take his losses, but he didn’t have to like it.

  Chapter 7

  It was a bit early in the day for the showgirls to be kicking up their skirts on either of the stages at Tennison’s. Apart from a few drunks who’d probably spent the entire night passed out in one of the saloon’s corners, most of the customers in attendance were sitting at poker games that had been going on for several hours or even several days. With no music drifting through the air, the place felt somehow darker now than it did at midnight. The sunlight coming in through the front window was an unwelcome guest, and the tables it shone upon were purposely left empty.

  Wes and Mose sat at one of the small square tables near the bar. While the bigger of the two scraped at a plate of runny eggs, Wes sifted through a small stack of money. “Where is that weasel?” Wes snarled.

  “You mean Jimmy?” Mose asked through a mouthful of dry toast, which added crumbs to the strings of egg stuck in his beard.

  “He was supposed to be here. I thought he was always here.”

  “Man can’t stay in one room forever. Have some breakfast.�
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  “I’ll eat when we get this matter settled,” Wes said. Sneering at his partner’s messy face, he added, “And I’ll eat something other than the slop they serve in this place.”

  “Suit yerself.”

  After watching the front door for a few seconds, Wes asked, “You sure nobody saw what you did this morning?”

  Mose nodded.

  “Tell me again what happened.”

  This time, Mose at least swallowed the food he was chewing before saying, “I waited in front of that hotel where we followed them gun salesmen to the other night. When the one in the fancy suit came out, he was carrying a whole bunch of things with him. I waited for him to walk by and then I cracked his skull open with the butt of my pistol. As for anyone seeing me, I can’t say for certain. I do know no lawmen saw me because there wasn’t much of a commotion.” Mose scooped up some eggs and studied his plate as though he were painting a scenic landscape in yellows and whites. “I went through the things he was carrying and found the lockbox. Didn’t want to linger any more than I had to, so I took the lockbox and the guns he was carrying with him and left.”

  “And did you walk back out to the street or go through an alley?”

  “I ain’t stupid,” Mose replied. “I cut across a couple different streets until I was sure there weren’t nobody following me.”

  “What about the other one that was with the dandy?” Wes asked. “The big fellow that knocked you around last night.”

  Pointing the dirty end of his fork at him, Mose said, “I knocked him around plenty. Don’t you worry about that.”

  “Did you see him or not?”

  “No. What are you so worried about, anyways? There’s enough in that lockbox to pay Jimmy’s fee with some left over. You should be happy about how things are panning out.”