Ralph Compton Straight Shooter

by Ralph Compton

  Aldus studied the man in front of him and said, “You really take comfort from that?”

  “Of course, you’re right. There’s no comfort to be had in hearing that. I suppose what I really wanted to tell you . . .” Mclean shifted in his seat as if he’d suddenly grown too big for his own skin. He wasn’t quite able to meet Aldus’s eyes, and his lips moved as if he was taking a dry run at saying the words he meant to spit out.

  Thinking about the times when he’d been asked to throw a fight, Aldus said, “You want me to do what that man in the mask asked me to do.”

  “I actually didn’t hear everything,” Mclean said.

  “But, whatever he said, you want me to do it.”

  “It could make things go a lot smoother. Did he ask you to do anything dangerous?”

  “No.”

  “Then you might want to consider it. These men,” Mclean said urgently. “They are well armed and will go to great lengths to get their way.”

  “Sounds like something the marshal ought to handle.”

  “It is, and Marshal Borden has taken many steps to try and get a grip on the situation. But when it comes to regular people, people like you and me, it’s better and safer to not make any waves.”

  Aldus stood up. “Is that all you wanted to tell me?”

  Standing up and setting his tea down, Mclean said, “I wanted you to know what you’re dealing with. There are several of these men. They’re armed and have already proven to be formidable.”

  “Sounds to me like they’re runnin’ this town.”

  Mclean seemed genuinely offended by that. “We are not being run by those men! They step in and have solved several potentially terrible problems in a way that’s discouraged more blood from being spilled.”

  “Make up your mind, sir,” Aldus said. “You can’t be against them and for them at the same time.”

  “I suppose they’ve done more harm than good.”

  “Suppose, huh?” Aldus handed over his teacup. “Not from where I’m standing. Anything else you want to tell me?”

  Once again averting his eyes, Mclean shook his head. “No.”

  “I hope you’ll at least refund a portion of my room to make up for the bath.”

  At the front desk, Mclean got some of the money Aldus had paid and handed it over. “Do you still wish to stay at the Main Rose?”

  “From what you told me, it probably wouldn’t make a difference if we moved to another hotel. At least this place has comfortable beds.”

  Although Mclean smiled and nodded, he couldn’t hide the disappointment in his eyes.

  • • •

  The rain had eased up a bit but was still dripping from the clouds that kept Aldus from seeing any stars in the sky as he stepped outside. He went straight across to the Prospector Saloon. At this time of night, the place was more alive than the rest of the town had felt all day long. It wasn’t filled to capacity, but the men inside told their jokes in loud voices and the women laughed loudly at every last one of them. Aldus had learned to ignore loud voices since most of the ones he’d heard in New York City rarely said anything worth hearing. One voice caught his attention, however, directing him to a poker game being played at a table closest to the bar.

  “All right, gentlemen!” Hayes declared. “How about we make things interesting? Antes are double and jacks or better to open.”

  He sat at a table with four other men, two of whom had working girls on their laps. Hayes didn’t have a companion yet, but he seemed a few drinks away from remedying that situation. Aldus approached and motioned for him to step away.

  “This here is my friend Aldus Bricker!” Hayes announced. “He used to be a fighter in New York City. You’ll be able to hear all of his gruesome stories of survival in the ring when you pay us a visit at my shooting gallery, which will be constructed as soon as the weather permits.”

  Aldus responded to the couple of drunken cheers he got with a lazy wave. Leaning in close to the salesman, he whispered, “Step outside so I can have a word?”

  “I’m in the middle of a game.”

  “It’s important.”

  “What’s more important than this game?” Hayes asked.

  “Being in the sights of a bunch of vigilantes.”

  Hayes’s eyes snapped back and forth to assess the other players. Judging by their faces and thanks to the efforts of the girls, they hadn’t heard enough of that to become alarmed. “I fold,” Hayes said while standing up. “But I won’t be long, so save my seat.”

  A few of the players grunted that they’d heard him as Hayes staggered in a very familiar way from the table. Once they were outside, the salesman shed his drunken demeanor as if he were flipping a switch. “What did you say about vigilantes?”

  “Are you still pretending to be drunk when playing cards?” Aldus scoffed. “Doesn’t that act ever get old?”

  “Not when it helps me slip past their guard. Now, what’s this about vigilantes?”

  “I was having a bath when a fella wearing a sack over his head stormed in to toss me around a bit.”

  “Good Lord. Are you all right?”

  “My stitches are aching, but I’m fine,” Aldus said. “I would have knocked him into next week if he hadn’t pulled a gun on me.”

  “Why would anyone do that?”

  “He told me to march over to the marshal’s office and tell him I chased down the wrong man.”

  “You mean the one who was shooting at you?” Hayes asked. “The one who’s locked up?”

  “I’m guessing so.”

  Hayes glanced in the direction of the marshal’s office, but there wasn’t much to see down the darkened street. His mind moved like an intricate machine as he sifted through countless angles and possibilities. Finally he said, “That man in jail must be a friend of the man who barged in on you.”

  “Really?” Aldus chided. “I hadn’t thought of that! Now I see why you run the show, with you being so smart and all.”

  “All right, so maybe I did have a few drinks to sell my little act. How do you know they’re vigilantes?”

  Aldus quickly spelled out what Danny Mclean had told him in his office at the Main Rose. When he was done, Hayes was completely sobered up.

  Running a hand over his head, Hayes said, “That explains why men from this town would want so many guns. They’re supplying a group of vigilantes. I should have guessed as much.”

  “How could you have guessed that?”

  “Maybe not that exact thing, but I should have seen something was wrong. And I should never have insisted on coming here.” Suddenly Hayes needed to walk forward so he could lean against one of the hitch rails in front of the saloon.

  Standing beside him, Aldus nodded to a man and woman passing by on their way down the street. To his unsteady friend, he said, “There was no way you could have known about any of this. Besides, I agreed to it, too. I ain’t just some dog that follows you around everywhere. We both look out for our interests.”

  “I know, but I’m the one who’s been in this business the longest, and if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you should always be wary when you’re selling guns. I usually do keep my eyes open, but after the robbery and losing all of our profits, I guess I just let my guard down.”

  “It doesn’t do us any good to assign blame,” Aldus said. “What we need is to figure out what comes next.”

  “As appealing as it may sound to just load up the wagons and put this town behind us, I think that would be a mistake.”

  Aldus’s eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t thinking of running away.”

  “It’s not running,” Hayes insisted. “It’s just getting away from a mess before it becomes an even bigger mess. Besides, our odds of making it out of here without the marshal or one of his deputies spotting us are fairly slim. I’ve seen one of them walking up and
down Main Street at various times while I was at the saloon. Marshal Borden has a pretty tight grip on this town.”

  “Not tight enough to keep that masked fella from slipping into the hotel. Have you taken that ledger over to the marshal yet?”

  “I walked down there not too long ago, but there was just a deputy available and he told me to come back in the morning.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do,” Aldus said. “And while we’re there, I’ll tell the marshal about the man who paid me a visit.”

  “Do you intend to do what he wanted?” Hayes asked.

  Speaking through gritted teeth, Aldus replied, “I ain’t about to jump just because someone shouts at me.”

  “He had a gun,” Hayes reminded him. “If what that man at the hotel said was correct, there’s a lot of these men about and they all have guns. This isn’t the first time I’ve ever crossed paths with vigilantes, Aldus. They’re dangerous men. In fact, the only thing separating them from a bloodthirsty outlaw is the speech they give before they kill a man. Many of them are even tolerated by the law to some degree.”

  “I don’t think Marshal Borden tolerates these men to any degree. I do think there’s more that he could tell us, though.”

  “We don’t need to hear much,” Hayes said. “All we have to do is find a way to get out of this town clean and without anyone coming after us.”

  “If we want to be able to leave quickly, we might wanna reconsider setting up the gallery.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  “Then we have our talk with the marshal tomorrow morning,” Aldus said. “Skinning out of town in the dead of night looks suspicious and is cowardly besides.”

  “Do me a favor,” Hayes said earnestly. “Just don’t go off half-cocked. When you’re dealing with the law, things can go astray very quickly. Vigilantes wear masks for a reason. We don’t even know which one of these locals could be one of them.”

  Aldus nodded and patted the salesman on the shoulder. “Can you do me a favor?”

  “Name it.”

  “Go back in there and try to win us some traveling money.”

  Chapter 14

  Since he didn’t need to set up the shooting gallery after all, Aldus thought it would be nice to sleep a bit later than normal. Unfortunately his eyes were on their own schedule and they snapped open at the same time they always did. Aldus tried to overrule them by rolling over in his bed and trying to get a few more minutes of sleep, but it was no use. His blood was flowing and his stomach was growling. The day had started without him.

  He pulled on his clothes and took a look outside. At least the rain had stopped, but judging by the large puddles on the street and the rivulets running down his window, it hadn’t stopped very long ago. Aldus slipped into his boots and almost left his room without buckling the gun belt around his waist. Wearing the gun was a reminder of the events that had happened since they’d arrived in town. And just in case those things slipped his mind again, there was always the ache in his face and side to bring them right back.

  Not having to assemble the gallery was peculiar enough. Finding Hayes sitting at breakfast as if he’d been there for hours made Aldus wonder if he was having a strange dream. Hayes was known to get up when he had to, but he was usually more inclined to spend late nights in saloons gambling and drinking in what he referred to as drumming up business and spreading the word of his arrival among the locals. Today, the salesman sat at one of the few tables in the hotel’s dining room with a plate of eggs and a cup of coffee in front of him.

  “Care to join me, Aldus?” he asked.

  “You seem chipper,” Aldus said. “What’s wrong?”

  “Just anxious to see today through. Have you eaten yet?”

  “No, but I’ll have some oatmeal.”

  Aldus ate quickly as Hayes flipped through the ledger he’d brought with him to make sure everything was accurate and up to date. When they finished, both men headed straight down Main Street to the marshal’s office. Two of the deputies stood outside the door. One held a shotgun and the other carried a Winchester rifle. Both glared at Aldus and Hayes, their grips tightening around their weapons when the two men tried to approach the door they guarded.

  “What’s your business?” the shotgunner asked.

  Hayes held up the ledger. “The marshal asked me to bring this by so I could register my weapons.”

  “Stay here while I check if he wants to see you.” The deputy stepped inside, leaving the man with the Winchester on the porch. Before things could get too uncomfortable, the deputy with the shotgun opened the door and said, “Come on in.”

  Marshal Borden sat behind his desk wearing a smile that shone through the thick whiskers on his upper lip. “About time you two showed up. I was about to send some of my boys to collect you.”

  Putting on a grin to match the marshal’s, Hayes said, “I got a little sidetracked, Marshal. My apologies. I’m sure you know how that goes sometimes. The important thing is that I brought you that list of guns I promised.” He set the ledger upon the lawman’s desk.

  Aldus, on the other hand, wasn’t feeling so amicable. “You could have sent someone to my hotel last night,” he said. “Then you might have caught the man who came to attack me.”

  The marshal’s face shifted back to the more familiar scowl he’d had the day before. “What did you say?”

  “You heard me. Someone stormed into the Main Rose last night, dragged me out of my bath, and threatened me with a gun. For a town that has more deputies than streets, I would have expected things to be a whole lot safer.”

  “I didn’t hear anything about this,” Borden said. “Why didn’t someone tell me?”

  “I’m telling you right now. Besides, it wouldn’t have done any good since the man came and went without anyone but me lifting a finger to stop him. Why is it that I see deputies walking your streets in front of the saloon, but they seem to miss an armed man with a burlap sack over his head?”

  “This was last night?” Borden asked.

  “That’s right.”

  “And he wore a burlap sack?”

  “Yeah,” Aldus said. “I got a real good look when he was sticking a gun in my face.”

  The marshal opened one of his drawers and removed something. “Was the sack anything like this one?” he asked while slapping an empty sack onto the desk.

  Aldus reached out to pick up the mask and have a look. It was burlap and there were two square holes cut for the wearer’s eyes. “Just like this,” he said. When he held it even closer, Aldus even found blood spattered onto the burlap in the approximate spot where he’d spat into his attacker’s face. “In fact, this could be the very one.”

  “And what about this?” Borden asked as he removed another item from his desk. This time, he placed a pistol in front of Aldus. “You recall that from when you were attacked?”

  Despite the fact that he’d worked with Hayes for a while, Aldus wasn’t as good at spotting firearms as his employer. At the time when the man had pointed a gun at him, he’d been more concerned with staying on his feet so he could defend himself. Between that and the blood rushing through his head, all he’d seen for certain was that the gun was a .45 Peacemaker. Aldus nodded and said, “That looks like it. I couldn’t say for certain if that’s the same one that was pointed at me, though.”

  “I’d bet everything I made this year that it was,” Borden said. “Especially since the man who wore that there sack over his head is stewing in one of my cells right now.”

  “You caught him?” Hayes asked.

  The marshal was already flipping through the salesman’s register when he nodded. “Found him late last night, thanks to me having enough deputies to patrol my streets at all hours. Mark spotted this one skulking about and we went out to snag him.”

  “Congratulations!” Hayes exclaimed.

 
“Can I get a look at him?” Aldus asked.

  Looking up from the ledger, Borden asked, “You don’t believe we got him?”

  “That man nearly killed me,” Aldus said. “If he’s behind bars, I want to get a look at him.”

  For a few moments, Borden merely stared up at him. Then he shrugged and nodded toward one of his men. “Go ahead and show him the prisoner. Couldn’t hurt to have one more witness identify him.”

  Aldus followed the deputy into the next room, which was cut in half by a row of bars built into the floor and ceiling. The space behind the bars was halved again into two separate cells. One of them contained the man whom Aldus had knocked out when he’d first arrived in town. He lay on a cot in the corner of his cage, looked up at Aldus, and spat a tired profanity at him.

  The man in the second cell was sitting on his cot with his back against the wall and his legs stretched out in front of him. He had cloudy blue eyes and a face that looked as if it had been trampled by a stampede of wild horses. A knot of thick bloated flesh on his forehead was stretched almost to the point of bursting. Unlike the dark purple bruises covering most of his face, the lump above his eye was bloodred. He couldn’t hold Aldus’s stare for more than a second or two before he shifted on the cot to put his back toward the front of the cell.

  Walking into the main room, Aldus asked, “You sure that’s him?”

  “Course I am,” Borden said. “My deputy caught him red-handed.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Someone took a shot at Mark. He’s the one who stitched you up. I helped drag him in myself and he was wearing that burlap sack while carrying that gun.”

  Looking down at the sack and gun that were still on the marshal’s desk, Aldus said, “He just seems different.”

  “They all seem different when they’re behind bars. Kind of like a dog once it’s been tamed.”

  “I’d hate to see the wrong man get blamed for something.”

  Borden put the ledger down, stood up, and placed his hands on his desk. “Why don’t you leave the speculating to those whose job is to decide who’s guilty and who’s innocent? Besides, there are men who deserve to be behind bars other than the ones who come after you.”